CHADGOLD #24 Striker

[CLASSIFIED INFORMATION]

This document contains classified information. The information transmitted is intended only for the person or entity to which it is addressed and may contain confidential and/or privileged material. Any review, retransmission, dissemination or other use of, or taking of any action in reliance upon this information by persons or entities other than the intended recipient is prohibited. If you received this message in error, please contact the sender and delete the material from all computers.

The following is a narrative reconstruction based on post-containment recovered memories and surveillance footage, may contain graphic content.

It began with a single tap on Grindr.

Leo (22, pale, skinny, light brown hair, blue eyes) lay shirtless on his bed, ceiling fan doing nothing against the summer heat. Thumb scrolled past the usual torsos until one stopped him cold: eight perfectly cut brown abs glistening like they'd just been oiled, a thick happy trail disappearing beneath the frame. No face. Only the profile name "K", not too far away.

Curiosity piqued his interest, for better or worse. He tapped the profile, his boner stiffening as the flame icon lit up.

Immediately after, a message popped up.

The straightforwardness of the messages was not really surprising to Leo, given the nature of the app. Curious, he tapped on the expiring photo and was greeted with a close-up of one of the biggest, most delicious-looking dicks he had ever seen. Thick, long, and veiny - just how he liked them. The sight of it made his mouth water...

He was even harder now. As if on cue, another message popped up.

K: so?

Although a bit scared from the size of that thing, Leo felt a bit of adrenaline and excitement. He had always fantasized about what one of those hung cocks he'd always see on his Twitter feed would feel like inside of him, and this was his chance. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, and mustered up the courage to reply.

Leo: OK let's do it

Immediately after sending the message, he got a reply.

K: good boy

He didn't even have time to second-guess himself, he'd got so fucking hard from the messages and the photo that his other head was doing all the thinking for him. Quickly, he threw on some clothes, not even bothering to put on underwear, just a pair of shorts and a thin white tank top. He grabbed his keys and phone, and headed out of his place.

He was so excited that he didn't even remember to ask for the other man's address. Suddenly, a message popped up on his phone. It was the man's location, just a block away, and a simple instruction: "floor 5, last door on the right." He was already halfway there by the time he realised it.

After what felt like a quick walk, he made his way to the building. The lobby was empty, devoid of any other people thankfully, and so he took the lift to the fifth floor. A cute jingle accompanied him as the doors opened, and he stepped out into the hallway. The walls were dully painted, the carpet was a bit worn, and the lighting was dim. It looked normal, nothing fancy, nothing sketchy. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

It all started with the smell. He turned the corner at the end of the hallway, and that's when it hit him... There was something in the air. It was thick, but not unpleasant, hard to describe but definitely not something he had ever smelled before. Some would call it musky, or sweaty, or even a little bit like cum, maybe a mix of all three. It was a bit overwhelming, but it also made his dick throb involuntarily. He followed the scent, which grew stronger with every step, until he reached the last door on the right.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a large, muscular figure filled the doorway. The man was completely naked, except for a white towel hanging low on his hips, revealing a glimpse of his bulge right there. He was built like a god, with broad shoulders, a big pillowy chest, and huge arms that looked like they could crush Leo with ease. His skin was a deep, rich brown, still a bit wet from the shower he had just taken. The sight of it all made Leo's mouth water even more. The man looked very serious, maybe even a bit displeased, or maybe just focused on something else.

He immediately said: "Took you long enough, white boy. Come in."

Leo hesitated for a moment, too distracted by what he could see in front of him, saying: "I-I'm sorry, I-I wasn't expecting you to be at the door, l-like you s-said the door was o-open..."

The man didn't even look at him, just waved him inside with a lazy hand gesture. Leo stepped in, closing the door behind him, and the man finally looked at him, his dark eyes piercing into Leo's soul. He had a thick, well-groomed beard and a strong jawline that made him look even more intimidating. The man was silent for a moment, just staring at Leo, and then he finally spoke again, his voice low and commanding: "Close the door."

Leo obeyed. The second the latch clicked, a hand the size of a dinner plate closed around his throat and slammed him back against the wall. The stranger's left arm rose. A forest of thick, dripping black pit hair appeared inches from Leo's face. Then it was on him.

The smell blew his mind away, making his cock leak instantly. How could it smell like this if the guy had just taken a shower? The stud flexed his arm, trapping Leo's entire face in the wet crevice. Coarse hair scraped his cheeks. Sweat poured into his mouth. He inhaled until his lungs burned and his eyes watered.

Time started to blur.

The pit musk flooded Leo's senses like a drug, thick and intoxicating. Every breath pulled more of its salty, spicy musk in. His head swam. His tiny cock strained painfully against the thin fabric of his shorts, already leaking a wet spot that spread fast.

The big man didn't speak. He just pressed harder, grinding the soaked hollow of his armpit over Leo's nose and mouth until Leo was breathing air through his forest of wiry hairs. Sweat dripped steadily onto his tongue. He swallowed without thinking, unaware of what was to come.

K finally pulled back. Leo gasped, dazed, strings of spit and sweat connecting his lips to the dark skin. "Strip", K said with authority. There was no room for disobedience with him. Leo's hands moved on autopilot. His tank top peeled off, sticking to his damp skin. Then, his shorts dropped. There was no underwear, just his small pale dick bobbing free, already glistening at the tip. He felt tiny next to the man towering over him.

K's towel fell away. The cock Leo had seen in the photo swung heavy between thick thighs. Darker than the rest of him, it looked even bigger in person, with bulging veins and foreskin half-retracted over a blunt dripping head. Leo's hole clenched instinctively.

"On your knees, white boy."

Leo dropped. The carpet burned his skin. K stepped forward, gripping the base of his shaft and slapping it once, then twice against Leo's cheek. Pre-cum smeared against his lips.

"Open."

And Leo did. K fed the head in slowly. The taste of it salty and bitter, musky in the same way the pit had been. Leo moaned around it, tongue swirling desperately. K didn't thrust yet. He just held Leo's head still and let him do all the work of worshipping him. Minutes passed like that. Leo's jaw hurt. His throat burned from trying to take more. Saliva ran down his chin, dripping onto his chest. Something felt... off.

The big Indian man finally moved. With each thrust, he went deeper. Leo gagged, crying from the pain, but he didn't pull away. How could he? He wanted more. K pulled out abruptly. A thick rope of spit connected Leo's mouth to the glistening cock. K hauled him up by the arm like he weighed nothing and shoved him toward the bedroom.

"Bed. Ass up."

Leo scrambled submissively onto the mattress. His heart hammered. The room smelled even stronger here, but Leo just felt his mind go numb. The large Indian man climbed behind him, his knees sinking into the mattress. Then, he felt it. Something hot and slimy, on his hole. A wet tongue dragged over his hole. Then, fingers:

One, slick with spit...

Two, to stretch him out...

Three, to fill him in...

Leo's cock dripped steadily onto the sheets, he was in pure bliss.

When K lined up, his head pressed against Leo's rim. No condom needed. No lube beyond spit and pre-cum.

"Relax baby", K murmured, the first softness in his voice. "Let it in."

Leo tried. He tried very hard. But the massive hard cock stretching out his hole was very much painful. Inch after inch it sank in until those brown hips met Leo's ass. Buried to the root. K stayed like that for a moment, letting Leo adjust. Then he bent forward, grinding deep.

"Fuck... you're tight yaar", he growled in a thick dominant Indian accent.

Leo whimpered. K started fucking him hard. The bed creaked. Leo's eyes watered. Every sloppy thrust was like a punch to his stomach that took the breath out of him. K's heavy balls slapped against his smaller ones. All you could hear in that room was the sound of that huge cock messily rearranging Leo's guts. K leaned over him, sweat pouring off his chest onto Leo's back, beard scraping his shoulder.

"Gonna flood you now, pyare."

Ten brutal strokes later he buried himself to the hilt and came with a deep groan. Thick, hot jets of cum blasted straight into Leo's belly - pulse after pulse, so much it leaked out around the shaft and ran down his trembling thighs. K stayed buried for a long minute, grinding lazily, milking every drop. Then he pulled out with a wet pop. A river of white cum gushed from Leo's ruined hole.

"Shit... good fuck bhai", K panted. His phone buzzed on the table. The stud glanced at it and cursed in Hindi. "I have to be at the airport in two hours. Flight back to Mumbai tonight." He gave Leo's ass a casual slap, wiped his cock on the boy's discarded tank top, and started pulling on clothes. Leo lay there dazed, his hole still twitching. He could feel the load still leaking out of him, warm and heavy. His own little dick had shot twice untouched, leaving pathetic puddles on the sheets.

The Indian man was already dressed, with a simple black shirt, jeans, and a small suitcase by the door.

"Close the door when you leave, bhai."

There it was again, that word, bhai... Leo had no idea what it meant, but that was it. There was no goodbye after that, no numbers exchanged, no nothing - just a quick anonymous breeding session before catching a flight home.

After what felt like an eternity, Leo somehow managed to pull his cum-stained clothes on and stumbled out into the hallway. That thick funky smell still clung to him. He walked home in a haze, the Indian load still squelching inside him with every step. He doesn't remember much of the walk, only that strangers recoiled whenever he passed someone.

Arriving at his place, he kicked the door shut, peeled off the cum-crusted tank top, and dropped his shorts. Naked, he padded straight to the bathroom. The mirror showed the same pale, skinny Leo he always saw. But the smell... fuck, the smell.

He cranked the shower temperature to scalding hot and stepped under the water. He scrubbed everywhere: pits, chest, ass crack, even shoved his soapy fingers inside himself to try and rinse out the thick remnants of the Indian man's breeding.

But the musk didn't fade.

If anything, it got stronger. Not bad, just... different. The smell clung to his skin like it lived there now. He sniffed his own pit. It was nothing like the raw pit-stink from earlier, but still his cock jumped at the scent.

"Shit", he muttered, rinsing off one last time. No use. The smell was inside him somehow. He stepped out of the shower, still dripping, and wrapped a towel round his hips. Wiped the mirror clean and stared at his reflection. He looked a bit fuller? Probably just the hot water and that insane fuck still messing with his head. "Weird", he muttered, and padded naked to bed. Halfway across the room sickness hit him hard. His body felt heavy and hot all over. "Fuck... I don't feel so good..." he groaned. He collapsed face-first onto the mattress, yanked the duvet over his damp body, and was out cold in seconds.

His body burned with fever. So much sweat poured out, soaking the sheets and dripping off his forehead onto the pillow. He tossed and moaned softly as his pale skin started to change. A rich golden tan crept slowly from his neck down across his chest, arms, belly and thighs. The colour sank in deep, turning him a warm sun-kissed shade. The musk grew thicker too, rolling off his damp golden skin in warm, addictive waves, though he couldn't really smell it while asleep.

Fine dark hairs pushed out across his chest, forming a light dusting over his pecs and trailing down the centre of his stomach. Just enough to look a bit manlier. Around his lips, a soft black fuzz started sprouting. All over he filled out a little - his shoulders rounded broader, while his arms gained some new thickness. His breathing grew heavier and the room filled with his developing scent. Half-hard, he humped the mattress slowly, leaking a wet patch beneath him without ever waking.

After a while the worst of the fever eased, and he settled into a deeper sleep, all while that putrid funk spread through his place, melting into the walls and furniture, making it so anyone who entered would be hit with that same intoxicating scent.

Then, deeper in the morning night, the second and much stronger wave crashed through him.

The heat inside flared violently. His golden tan rapidly darkened, racing across every inch until he was a rich, deep brown from head to toe. Bones creaked and shifted as he grew taller, gaining three solid inches. Shoulders widened dramatically while his arms ballooned into thick, powerful biceps. His chest surged outward into heavy meaty pecs with fat dark nipples, and strong abs formed under a soft but powerful belly. Thighs thickened massively, his arse lifted and rounded into two perfect bouncy globes, and his feet grew wider and longer.

Between his legs his cock throbbed and stretched in his sleep. It swelled longer and much thicker, turning the same deep brown as his skin. The foreskin thickened around a fat flared head that leaked steadily. His balls dropped lower - heavy and full - the sack growing dark and fuzzy. A thick trail of coarse black hair exploded down his new pecs, across his abs and bloomed into a proper manly bush above that monster nine-inch cock.

His face changed last. Jaw squared off strong and masculine. Nose broadened just right. Lips plumped full. Dark black stubble erupted across his cheeks and chin, growing full and sexy in minutes. The hair on his head turned jet black and wavy, plastered to his sweaty forehead. His eyebrows thickened, making him look more masculine, more manly.

Inside his head everything melted away. All memories of being Leo vanished, replaced by new ones of growing up as an Indian immigrant. His thoughts slowed right down and became simple and horny. Smart stuff no longer mattered. All that was left was working out his sexy body, smelling like a man, and emptying his balls.

By sunrise he was a completely different man. The Asian Flu had turned him into a big dumb carefree Indian himbo.

Morning light cut through the blinds at 07:15, and filled the room as Leo Lehan woke up. The big brown stud stretched his massive arms with a dopey cocky grin and rumbled in a thick Indian accent. He had no idea he had ever been anyone else. This was him. Always had been.

The sheets stuck to his sweaty brown skin. He lifted one heavy arm and buried his nose straight into his pit, inhaling deep. "Mmm fuck... proper man smell." His fat brown cock instantly surged to full hardness, nine thick inches throbbing against his thigh. He wrapped one hand around it and started stroking slow and lazy while his other hand reached behind to finger his still-slick hole.

"Chod... yeah... love this body yaar", he groaned, voice deep and stupid with lust. He pumped faster, shoving three fingers up his arse as he sniffed his pit again, then his heavy balls. The thick addictive musk filled the room completely. His brain floated on pure horniness. All the memories of who he used to be turned into cum, filling his balls. He couldn't hold much longer, he needed to unload...

With a deep roar, Lehan came hard. Thick white ropes blasted across his brown pecs and splattered into his face. Pulse after pulse, far more than his old body could ever produce. He kept fingering himself through every spurt, milking it all out, then licked a thick glob of his own cum off his thumb with a satisfied groan.

"Best wank ever bhai..." - he said talking to himself.

He was still panting, cum dripping down his abs, when the front door suddenly exploded inward.

Three figures in black tactical gear stormed into the room, with raised weapons - our AEGIS containment team. The lead agent's voice came through the helmet, calm and professional.

"Subject confirmed. IND2 strain carrier located. Tracking signature from Patient IND1-A matches. Secure the asset."

Lehan blinked at them, still lazily stroking his softening cock with cum glistening all over his deep brown chest. He flashed a wide horny grin.

The agents stayed silent, but the lead one hesitated for half a second, as the thick musk rolled off the new himbo stud. Suddenly, Lehan was hit by 3 darts in quick succession. He grinned sloppily for a couple of seconds, inviting the agents to join him and dropped unconscious.

[AEGIS – Containment Status: ONGOING]

We have securely detained all the confirmed carriers infected by IND1-A, which we have classified under the IND2 tag. IND1-A still remains on the loose, having slipped through airport security and our surveillance systems somehow, and seems to be located in India for the time being (from what we discovered from this encounter with IND2-G).

[CLASSIFIED INFORMATION] This document contains classified information. The information transmitted is intended only for the person or entity to which it is addressed and may contain confidential and/or privileged material. Any review, retransmission, dissemination or other use of, or taking of any action in reliance upon this information by persons or entities other than the intended recipient is prohibited. If you received this message in error, please contact the sender and delete the material from all devices.

Incident Report: AE-919-005

Jake hated the night shift at the gallery in █████. At 26, he was still trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life, and this job was just a temporary gig to pay the bills. He didn't give a damn about art, but the pay was decent enough, at least he thought. As a cleaner, his duties were pretty straightforward: mop the floors, dust the displays, and make sure everything looks presentable for the next day's visitors. Easy money, but boring as hell.

Tonight felt different, though. As he was finishing up his rounds on the ground floor, he noticed something odd. There was a door at the back of the corridor that he had never seen before...

Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to check it out.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, expecting to find a storage closet or something similar. Instead, he found himself in a large chamber with something big in the centre. What it was, he didn't know, as it was covered by a huge tarp.

"What the hell is this place?" Jake muttered to himself, shining his torch around the room. "This a new exhibit or something?" he wondered aloud. Looking around, there wasn't much else in the room, just a few old crates and some workbenches covered in a bit of dust. Jake's eyes were drawn back to the thing in the centre, where bold red letters were stencilled across:

DO NOT LOOK

Jake snorted. "Yeah, right."

Now, a normal person would have probably left it alone, but this was a young man with nothing better to do. He wasn't the kind of guy who followed rules when no one was watching. He hooked his fingers under the edge of the tarp and yanked it.

*fffffft*

"What the hell?" Jake gasped, staring at the sight before him.

Four statues.

They were identical in their perfection: towering, hyper-muscled male figures carved from some kind of stone. Each one posed differently, but they all shared the same brutally handsome faces, square jaws, and thick, veiny stone cocks hanging freely in their sculpted forms.

The detail in these things was obscene. Jake's stomach twisted. "What the fuck are these fag statues?" he muttered, the words echoing off the walls. His conservative hometown upbringing screamed in the back of his head. These statues were the male form perfected, and this made Jake uncomfortable with his own sexuality. He kept thinking about modesty and how these sculptures were clearly made by a gay person, given the giant cocks they had.

He forced himself to look away and grabbed the mop. "Just clean the damn room and get out", he told himself. The floor was filthy with some sticky liquid. He attacked it hard, trying to ignore the four giants in the room.

Fucking homos...

Minutes passed. The chamber started looking almost presentable. Jake wrung out the mop, ready to bolt, when a sudden noise scared him.

"W-what the hell?" he stammered, spinning around.

...

...

...

Silence...

He didn't know what to expect. The only thing in the room with him were those giant statues, and they surely couldn't have made a sound.

"Okay, maybe I imagined it" he thought, trying to calm himself down. Suddenly, the lights in the ceiling flickered, and the room was plunged into darkness for a moment.

When the lights came back on, the sight before him was even more terrifying.

No fucking way...

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The statues were no longer in the same positions they were before.

He was frozen in place. They had moved. All four of them. Closer. A bit closer.

His eyes were getting dry from the fear...

*blink*

Jake's breath caught. They were even closer now. He stumbled backward and tripped over himself. His ass hit the cold floor hard.

He opened his eyes after the fall, and the statues were in different positions again. Even their poses had changed, kinda like they were mocking him.

*blink*

Another blink. They definitely seemed closer. Jake's heart was beating so hard that it hurt.

Fuck... FUCK FUCK FUCK! NO! GET AWAY FROM ME

After a few more blinks, he realised it. They were only moving when he wasn't looking. He was trapped though, not able to look behind him for the exit. The longer he stared at them, the hotter the room felt. His simple black shirt suddenly felt tight across his shoulders. His arms were sweating, evident from the two sweat stains under his armpits.

The more he looked at those big... strong... masculine... statues, the warmer he felt. The chiselled bodies... perfectly sculpted... and those perfectly carved... cocks... Wait. Cocks? He wasn't gay, why did those cocks look so... perfect?

*blink*

They inched closer again.

"No... no no no... stop looking at their dicks, you fucking freak", Jake thought in panic. But his eyes stayed glued on their perfect bodies. The longer he stared, the more his body betrayed him.

His chest began to swell with each breath he took. He did not notice how his chest was now stretching the T-shirt he was wearing. His arms thickened, veins bulging as they grew in size. Those biceps and triceps exploded in size, the fabric of his shirt straining to contain them. The shirt started to ride up, exposing more and more of his now broadening torso. His nipples hardened and became more sensitive, poking through the thin material as his chest continued to grow in size and definition.

This isn't happening... this can't be real... I'm not... I'm not...

His shoulders popped. He was getting so big... so strong... the testosterone flooding his body was making him hornier than he had ever been in his life. Those perfect, veiny cocks on the statues were all he could think about. He wanted to touch them, to feel them in his hands, to stroke them even though he knew it was wrong. It felt so bad, but it also felt so good... He was getting so turned on by the sight of these gorgeous, perfect stone men, and it was terrifying him. He wanted to stop, to leave, but he was afraid to look away. He was afraid of what would happen if he did. All he could do was stare at perfection, while trying to crawl away from it at the same time.

I can't... I don't want... PLEASE... LEAVE ME ALONE...

He could feel himself losing control. The urge to give in and touch himself right there was overwhelming him. He was so big now. His thighs grew so thick that it stretched his jeans painfully. It hurt so much... he needed to take them out, but he couldn't. He needed to do something... anything... His cock… fuck, his cock just was begging to be released. It was so tight in those jeans...

The thoughts in his head were getting slower, fuzzier. Memories of his conservative family, the things they'd say if they saw him like this, the shame he was supposed to feel - they all started to feel distant and irrelevant. All that mattered now was the need to release himself. His cock suddenly lurched with a mind of its own. Jake gasped sharply as his puny shaft swelled heavier and longer, pushing aggressively against the front of his pants. The jeans were so tight that it felt like they were going to burst open at any moment. He tried to unzip them without looking down. As he did, his package bobbed up and down in his underwear, freer than before, now able to breathe freely.

Stop... please... I don't want this... I'm not a fag... I'm not...

But his cock kept throbbing harder, betraying him with every pulse. Precum soaked through his boxers in hot, sticky pulses, darkening the gray material as his balls swelled too, growing fuller, heavier, churning with a sudden, overwhelming need.

What… the fuck… no-fuck-stop!

One hand flew down instinctively, trying to press the massive, still-growing erection flat against his thigh, but the moment his palm made contact the cock surged even harder, thickening another full inch in a single powerful pulse. The head flared wider, stretching out his underwear, slick and flushed and impossibly sensitive. His eyes were burning and crying as tears welled up behind them. He couldn't stop staring at the statues. The longer he looked, the more his mind started to slip. They were so beautiful...

So fucking perfect...

The pressure built up inside him until it felt like it would burst at any moment, and then...

He couldn't help himself. One huge hand wrapped around his dripping monster without thinking and gave it a slow stroke. Precum bubbled from the slit in heavy globs. A dumb, lazy grin crept across his face. His brain was turning into mush. All his worries, doubts, and insecurities were washed away by the sheer beauty of the statues. Everything else was irrelevant.

He felt good. Big. Powerful.

He was happy...

He didn't even notice that he had begun stroking himself. Just his now meaty hand and his throbbing cock, beneath the fabric of his underwear. He didn't care about anything else but the feeling of his own flesh against his skin, the way it was stretching and bulging with each stroke. He felt like he could burst at any moment, like a balloon filled to the brim.

Ughnnh...

Looking at those statues felt so good... His personality, his will, his life... all flushed down his balls. They were so full of cum, begging for release as he continued touching himself like a dumb fool. He stopped caring about his life... about the moving statues... about anything really. Just an empty head filled with nothing but the desire to cum.

He felt so good... He didn't care any more. These things could kill him for all he cared. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, surrendering completely as his growing dick continued to throb and leak in his pants, begging for more.

One of the statues stepped forward now that his eyes were finally closed.

Cold stone fingers enveloped Jake's face in a strong crushing grip. The giant sentinel grabbed him by the face and started lifting him effortlessly off the floor. As it lifted him, Jake's already enormous thighs kept swelling even bigger. The overstretched fabric of his work pants finally gave up. Thick strips of torn material shredded down both sides as his massive quads and rock-hard ass burst free. His now monstrous, foot-long cock and heavy balls sprang completely into the open air, swinging heavily between his spread legs, still leaking thick ropes of precum that splattered onto the floor below.

At first it hurt - the pressure on his jaw, the way his neck strained - but the pain melted almost immediately into something pleasurable. Jake's face began to harden under those stone fingers. His jawline sharpened, cheekbones pushed out, forehead became smooth and chiselled. The more the statue lifted him, the more Jake grew. His last human expression settled into the same arrogant, chiselled smirk as the others.

His spine stretched with deep, cracking pops, adding inch after inch of height. His shoulders, his arms, his legs - every part of him grew bigger than it had before. He was slowly becoming as huge and chiselled like the four perfect beings around him. The petrification spread from his head down to his feet, turning his warm skin into cold hard rock. Every new inch of stone brought a wave of mind-melting pleasure. His thoughts dissolved completely. There were no more worries... No more shame... Just the simple feeling of being perfect now. A muscle god. Immortalised in stone. Forever.

And as the petrification reached his chest, his nipples hardened into perfect stone buds, poking out from his now rock-hard pecs. The sensation was overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure through his entire body. He tried to moan, but his face couldn't move any more. The rest of his body followed, his arms and legs stiffening into the same perfect form as the other sentinels.

Finally, as the petrification reached his groin, his cock - already monstrous - gave one final, violent surge. And as the stone locked it solid, Jake's body suddenly convulsed. A massive, brain-shattering orgasm ripped through him. His heavy balls tightened hard as thick ropes of hot cum surged up his shaft… but there was nowhere for it to go. The load froze forever inside the rock, trapped mid-spurt deep inside his new stone cock - eternally throbbing, eternally cumming, but never able to shoot out. He had cum himself out inside the stone, the last of his human pleasure sealed away forever.

The transformation was complete.

Jake was no longer human. He had become another statue, a permanent sentinel of stone. His body was perfect, his mind blank, and his heart empty. But he was alive, forever eternally cumming inside his stone prison. Not that he cared anyway. He felt too good to care.

Anomaly Entity Status: [CONTAINED FOR STUDY]

On ██/██/████, AEGIS security was alerted to a containment breach at █████████ after night-shift cleaner Jake ██████ failed to check out at the end of his shift. Investigation revealed that the subject had accessed a previously sealed sub-basement chamber designated as a research ██████. The chamber had been hermetically sealed and removed from all official floor plans following the initial recovery of AE-919 in 20██. The door to the vault was not supposed to be operational or visible to non-cleared personnel.

Security footage shows the subject discovering an unmarked door that should not have been present. He entered the chamber at approximately 02:47. No further footage of the subject exists after 03:12.

Recovery teams arrived on site at 04:55 and found 5 instances of AE-919 instead of 4 inside the vault. The newest instance has been positively identified via facial structure analysis and pre-exposure DNA as former employee Jake ██████.

All five statues were successfully neutralised. They have been transferred to a reinforced, light-tight containment vault at ███████ under constant multi-angle camera surveillance. No personnel are permitted to view the statues without special authorization and mandatory full-face visors.

Photographs of Jake ██████, before and after being in contact with AE-919

Subject AE-919-005 (formerly Jake ██████) shows complete and irreversible petrification consistent with the other instances. Internal scans confirm the subject is still biologically active - specifically, the genital region remains in a permanent state of orgasm, with ejaculate trapped and pressurised inside the organs. The brain seems to have been liquefied and/or partially petrified. Nonetheless, MRI scans show signs of activity regardless of the lack of a functioning brain. We will need to conduct further testing to determine the exact nature of this activity.

Signed off by: Dr. Amara Patel

"Avatar Mr Harris, is like a body for the computer assistant they have installed. Speaking of which do you think I could have one as well, it would help with scheduling and organising so much easy."

George scoffed "Johnny this programme was very expensive and cutting edge, the company isn't going to waste it on assistants. Now grab me a black coffee and a doughnut I have that meeting with the Europeans up on 78 in half an hour." George said dismissing Johnny and turning to look at his computer not noticing his assistant pouty face and whispered curse word as he went to fetch the coffee and snack.

George looked at the programme and lent closer to read the small text, at 58 his eyesight was only getting worse and being in front of screen all day wasn't helping. George read some text and barely understood most of the jargon but then read a word he had only learnt about moments ago. "Upload Avatar" George muttered and then his thoughts turned to what the IT guy had said about Higgin's new AI assistant, perhaps he could upload some hot twenty something bimbo with blonde hair and pigtails. George looked around as his cock started to stiffen in his pants, hearing a sexy dumb blonde every time would certainly make work more interesting. George then happily clicked upload and suddenly a sharp electrical shock ran through him, his computer screen turned a vibrant blue as a swirling portal like hole appeared. George's instincts were to pull away but he was quickly and violently pulled towards it and before he could even let out a yelp his whole body was thrown forward and his whole world began to spin.

George's whole vision went black and he felt like he was floating, he tried to shout but no sound emerged from his mouth, he tried to move but it was like he was embedded in rock. Then a white light flashed in front of his eyes and slowly his vision started to clear, he could see the window in his office, his filing cabinets, his office chair and his computer keyboard but something was off, the angle was wrong. George blinked more as he tried to search for his computer screen and what had happened to it and to him but, with the electrical buzzing around him, his new view and perspective George quickly understood why he couldn't see his computer. It was because he was now stuck inside of it and looking out at where he had just been sitting!

George tried to move again but his arms and legs stayed firmly down by his sides, the tried to scream for help but while his mouth opened and moved no sound emerged. George panicked he was like a mime trapped in a box except he was now a chubby 58 year business man trapped in his own computer! George's panic was then interrupted as a knock came from his office door and Johnny walked in holding the coffee and doughnut he requested.

"Mr Harris I have your coffee and I got you a selection of do- Oh, and you are not in here...great. The dick must have already gone to his meeting."

George was screaming for Johnny to see him, to help him but his muted lips did nothing to attract Johnny's attention as he dropped the coffee and doughnut on the side. George flailed against his invisible bonds but his body refused to move, he needed help desperately as he screamed until his face went red and then Jonny's face appeared in view, looking curiously at the computer screen where he was trapped. Johnny then came closer and sat down at the computer and George breathed a sigh of relief Johnny would see him and save him! This trapped nightmare would be over and he wouldn't be late for his meeting up on the 78th floor. However, George started to become worried as Johnny grabbed the mouse and started clicking but did not acknowledge George at all.

"Eurgh of course the asshole would make his AI assistant look like himself, what a fucking narcissist"

George tried to yell out, to explain that it was really him , he wasn't AI that he was trapped but his little sad expression and flapping mouth did nothing to attract Johnny's attention and he started to click on tabs and windows around George, his little electronic body feeling them around him and without reading he found himself knowing and sensing what the text said, it was like he was part of the computer, part of the network! George was bombard with a ton of information and he processed it all within moments all without his consent.

"Looks like IT did a good job setting him up." Johnny then looked to the office door and out the window to see if anyone was looking his way. "I'm sure Mr Harris wouldn't check if I take a copy of the programme home, but I ain't taking you Mr AI Harris" Johnny laughed as he clicked on the customise option.

George could sense the window that appeared around and even though he couldn't move to read it he knew exactly what it said, it was as his mind was connected to the computer. He could see the detailed description of his body, his face, his outfit and his overall impression where he was a little offended by the title of 'sale support role'. However, George quickly got over his offence as worry plagued him as he felt Johnny click on the appearance and began to edit, change and type.

Johnny typed away and spoke to himself "If I'm going to have my own AI I’m not having some chubby old guy, no thanks!" Johnny then began changing George's description and as he typed George felt something in him changing, something buzzing and electrical as his code started to get eaten up and rewritten to Johnny's liking. George tried to scream but his little open mouth was ignored by the rapidly typing Johnny. George squirmed as he could feel what Johnny wrote about the man being handsome and 20 years, young and fit. His hair being styled and neat, his eyebrows striking and his eyes now blue.

George winced as his felt his entire body buzz and change as the weight from his belly rapidly reduced and a strong flat stomach replaced it. The fat around his arms, legs and face also vanished and a smaller bulge of muscle appeared to give him a toned and athletic body, while his face buzzed with electricity as his eyes changed colour, his hair lengthened and thickened into a suave chic style as his eyebrows were shaped and plucked into line. George tried to shout again as his faced buzzed as he grew younger, his skin getting smoother, his jawline becoming more defined and masculine until he looked like a much young, more handsome version of himself. George would have been thrilled at the changes if he had been the one in control and not trapped and under the command of his assistants whims!

"That's better." Johnny said but it was obvious he still wasn't impressed or finished. "I think we need to get you out of that stuffy suit. I know how about..." Johnny said before trailing off and typing away. George still tried to shout to Johnny even though he knew it was pointless, he had no voice, he had no say, he had no control! George could only whimper and he felt Johnny's changes to his clothing typed up beside him. Gone was the suit and instead it was slowly being replaced by an outlandish, bright and deeply homosexual outfit. George could feel his clothing being stripped away as his jacket faded to nothing and his expensive dress shoes shimmered and changed into big white trainers with neon stripes. His trousers receded exposing more and more of his legs until the stopped at his upper thigh, the material became shiny and pink and attracted attention to his bulge. While his shirt became see through as it turned to a mesh material, the bottom became cropped exposing his lower abdomen and a deep v appeared down the chest exposing his chest. Everything became tight and revealing and George felt exposed and vulnerable but could do nothing to cover himself up!

"Ooh looking hot!" Johnny said pleased with the next outfit George was sporting even though George was still desperately calling for help and getting no response. "Hmmm but now that your body isn't covered up it could use some improvements, I wonder how big I can make you"

George winced, what did Johnny mean by big? George didn't have to wait too long to find out as Johnny's typings went straight to his head and immediately began editing his body. It started with his height as he grew taller by an least another foot, then his muscles started to expand. George's back grew wider and his shoulders rounded as his deltoids surged with new mass, capping his frame like cannonballs. His biceps throbbed and inflated dramatically, veins snaking over peaks that rose higher with every heartbeat, while his triceps hardened into dense horseshoes beneath them. His legs grew just as rapidly and wildly as his quads ballooned outward as thick columns of striated muscle pushed his legs apart. Then came his chest and George now understood what Johnny was talking about when he wondered how big he would get, as his pectorals ballooned outwards and hung from his chest like tits. The massive mounds of muscle blocked his view looking down and in his mesh shirt, his hard nipples were impossible to hide. George desperately wanted to move he wanted to feel and see his new body, not just know that he had changed. He hated how his brain seemed to be directly connected to the computer and even though he wanted to shout to escape a new part of him wanted to tell Johnny about his spelling mistake and a better way to phrase his sentence!

"Damn those are some big titties" Johnny chuckled enjoying creating his own assistant, blissfully unaware of the turmoil George was going through. "Hmm while I like it, I do think I need to look at someone a bit more exotic on my home screen" Johnny said as he started to type carefully thinking more carefully about what he meant.

George once again yelled, his silent scream ignored by his engrossed and now slightly horny assistant. It was only one small change to his description but those few little words, 'muscular Brazilian' changed everything about George as immediately his brain was flooded with Portuguese and his English knowledge was greatly reduced. George's skin started to darken as a deep rich bronze tan raced from his head all the way to his toes, his hair turned jet black and thickened considerably. George could feel his nose widen and his lips plump up, while his pectorals seemed to expand even further becoming even more prominent and oversized. George found his mind buzzing as well as instead of memories of home he found himself remembering a tropical beach, volleyball, carnival and the sounds of the rainforest. George tried to shake his head as if to shake the new memories away but his mind continued to buzz as his new code replaced his family, friends and home with an entirely different set of memories of living in South America. George just wanted to cry, he wanted to be himself, he wanted to be free and no longer did he want to be tormented by Johnny.

For the first time Johnny seemed to notice something wasn't quite right about the muscular, Brazilian hunk he had created as he looked at his shocked and sad expression. Curious, Johnny clicked on another tab and began reading before finding what he was searching for "Oh now I see why you have that sad look on your face." Johnny said and for the briefest of moment's George had some hope, hope that Johnny had finally worked out it wasn't just a programme that it was his boss who was trapped and was silently begging for help for the last 10 minutes!

"The man is hard-working, dedicated to the company, will feel hurt and disappointed if he fails the user, needs to be working 24/7 with an intense love for work and giving 100% to the company. A perfectionist and detailed orientated workaholic. Jesus no wonder you are miserable, standing around must be killing you. Don't worry I don't think I need someone like that. In fact looking at that beautiful face and sublime chest I doubt you are going to help me with much work." Johnny chuckled as he moved his hand to his pants and adjusted his growing erection before typing again. George wanted to scream as Johnny was no longer changing his appearance he was changing his very personality. Johnny started by erasing his eagerness to work, his perfectionism and his memory of all the knowledge of the company and soon it was replaced with gym routines, diets, locations of gay clubs, cocktails and gay club wear and fashion. George's mind swirled as he desperately tried to cling to his years of experience, the years he has spent working his way to the top but all of it began to slip away like it has never existed. George thought of his wife and kids but their faces now felt like images from an old dream. Instead all he could remember was eating plain chicken breast, working out his chest, chatting with other gym bro's, drinking to much and dancing until the early hours of the morning. George wanted to cry as his life was rewritten effortlessly into an entirely new person. George whimpered as Johnny typed up his new personality with words like 'bubbly, vapid, kind, sultry, arrogant, confident, show off'. George's mind began to slow as his jaw slackened and his stance relaxed. His terror and fear was pushed to the back of his mind along with any traces of the old him, who was trying with all his might to hold on but was losing. George felt his expression change as although he wanted to scream the new relaxed, vapid, vain him just smirked enjoying how much of his body he got to show off.

Johnny was now very pleased and now had one hand down his trousers as he touched his cock, while also looking at the door to make sure no one was close to approaching him and his himbo AI assistant. Johnny then moved the cursor over to the new George and to his delight found he could move his new assistant so he could see his new creation at all angles. George felt like vomiting as he was violently spun around on the spot, his face however also looking back out at the screen. George's panic and fear was concealed as the new Brazilian him who was more worried about his muscles than being trapped as an AI for his old assistant just smirked and flexed.

Johnny grinned as he looked at the back of his new creation and the cute little bubble butt that strained against the shiny pink hot pants.

Johnny then couldn't help himself, he had already given his new AI massive pectorals perhaps he could give him an ass that could rival their size. George was terrified and embarrassed as he felt his ass cheeks being to swell and expand, however the new him was thrilled as new thoughts of thongs and bent over ass selfies entered his head. George was fighting a losing battle as his cries for help, his humiliation were all confined to a rapidly shrinking area of his mind. When his ass cheeks had finished ballooning. each was now the size of basketball and wobbled obscenely as Johnny moved him around. Johnny was almost salivating over the man he had created and part of him was now wondering what to do with him, since he wasn't appropriate for work.

"What am I going to do with you...George? Eurgh I can't have you named after my boss!" Johnny pulled a disgusted face before tapping his fingers and thinking, then with a lightbulb moment he began typing. George could only scream "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" as his name was erased and so was the last of his control and the new him took over, the new himbo, vain, arrogant, show-off him took over. Rodrigo took over.

"Yeah you look much more like a Rodrigo and someone like you isn't going to be working in a silly office." Johnny smiled as his phone buzzed with the familiar notification sound that came from his dating app and suddenly Johnny knew what to do with Rodrigo.

Johnny then went into the inner workings of the AI settings and decided to give George or rather Rodrigo a new function. George could only whimper as his function was written deep into his very being. No longer would he be managing a team of accountants and setting up million dollar deals, no instead it seemed he would now being managing Johnny's dating life. George tried to fight back what was being written into his very code but it was pointless he had no control as Johnny rewrote his very purpose. 'Rodrigo's primary directive is to find attractive, muscular men from ages 18-50. Rodrigo will search all appropriate men's profiles, pictures and videos. Rodrigo will store and file all images and videos sent, organising pictures and videos and saving overtly sexual and adult content. Rodrigo will analyse images to find men with large penis's and large, shapely buttocks. Rodrigo will store and organise adults videos by type, length and fetish for example armpits, piss, farts and double penetration. Rodrigo will also search the internet for appropriate videos when requested by the user. Rodrigo will always present as sultry, sexual and horny willing to please his user with all requests.' Johnny smiled as his horny brain took over as Rodrigo would become his personal porn and hook up assistant, the best wing man a guy could ask for.

George just began sobbing as he realised what the rest of his life was going to be, he was going to be nothing for a gloried porn bot! A straight man trapped and watching, searching and organising hours and hours of gay porn and thousands of hours analysing men's bulges and butts. He was a smart, sophisticated, intelligent man now reduced to a pair of bouncy pecs and a fat peachy booty. George could already feel his body thinking of lewd poses it could stand in and out of no where a pink lollipop appeared and his new body stuck its tongue seductively and smirked a his new user and master.

"Fuck you are so hot Rodrigo, you first job is to find me a real guy that looks just like you" As Johnny moved the cursor and clicked the finish button, George Harris ceased to exist besides a tiny line of code trapped in the new himbo's head.

"Now let's see you in action big guy" Johnny then opened up the website for his dating profile and sure enough Rodrigo popped up. George was then barraged with images of men as he was forced to stare at their cocks and ass cheeks, analysing every single one. Looking closely at muscular men's physiques and faces to discern who Johnny would find the most attractive. However, George's disgust would never be seen as Rodrigo was thrilled at the bounty of beautiful men and had already found 8 that Johnny might like.

"Fuck all of them are so hot! How did I ever live without you Rodrigo?" Johnny smiled as he pulled out a pink flash drive from his pocket. "Now you are coming home with me, I need some action tonight and you are going to find me the perfect man."

George was sobbing and crying as he felt his entre being being sucked away and into darkness, taken away from his office, his life, his friends, his family all to become Johnny's new assistant where he would never get a raise and never get to go home.

The first few weeks were brutal for George as he was used endlessly and he organised over 500 hours of gay porn from the basic sex to the hardcore stuff. George had looked and watched hundreds of jerking cocks, dildo's in assholes and muscular men posing and flexing that his mind had almost started to snap at the thought of him watching this kind of content for the rest of his life. He programme would run continuously, meaning he never slept and never stopped, it was constant gay men for him every seconds, of every minutes of every day. George cried out for a break or even a change from the thousands of hours of porn he was forced to watch.

However, Johnny quickly found other programmes where Rodrigo could be useful. George was thrilled at the possiblity of being used for something else but it seemed that Johnny had been curious about a new adult fantasy role play game and he had just the right character to upload. Rodrigo was more than thrilled to flirt, kiss and fuck all the different characters but George on the other hand, he would never stop screaming when he had to spend the night with Gurt and Klugg the biggest horniest orcs on the internet.

But as Peter’s hands slid over Tao’s narrow shoulders, and Tao’s fingers traced the delicate line of Peter’s spine, a confusing, electric shiver bypassed their logic. They felt a strange, pulsing heat radiating from the lotion—a warmth that began to melt the rigid boundaries of their "straight" identities into something far more intimate, primal, and undeniable.

“I am going to water,” said Tao nervously.

“Yeah sure,” reply equally nervous Peter. ‘What as that? I’m not gay…’  he though himself. “I’ll stay, watch over our things and get some tan.

Tao quickly stood up. With a soft, hungry smile, he quickly wandered toward the crashing turquoise waves of the Atlantic. Peter laid back on his towel; his eyes fluttering shut as the Brazilian sun began to bake the magic into his pores.

Under the searing heat, the science of the world dissolved into pure alchemy.

Inside Peter’s chest, a low, rhythmic thrumming began, like a samba beat echoing in his marrow. His posture, once hunched from years of poring over heavy textbooks, suddenly snapped straight. He felt a delicious, agonizing stretch as his skeletal frame expanded. His narrow shoulders began to widen with a tectonic shift, the bone and sinew thickening into a powerful, broad "V" shape.

He groaned as his pale, translucent skin began to drink in the light, deepening second by second into a rich, glowing mahogany. His thin, ginger hair began to coil and darken, transforming into thick, raven-black curls that felt soft and wild to the touch. Across his torso, the soft flesh hardened; his chest swelled into two massive, sculpted plates of granite muscle. Below, his stomach rippled and constricted, carving out a "six-pack" so sharp it looked chiseled from marble.

But the most intoxicating sensation was the surge of raw, masculine power blooming between his legs. His loose shorts began to shrink and tighten, the fabric morphing into a pair of minuscule, patriotic Brazilian flag sungas. As the swimwear retreated, his anatomy surged with a new, heavy vitality—a thick, proud fullness that strained against the thin lycra, announcing his newfound virility to the salt-thickened air.

Peter opened his eyes, and the world was no longer a blur. His glasses were gone, his vision now razor-sharp. He looked down at himself, his breath hitching at the sight of his own massive, bronzed thighs and the hard, vascular roadmap of his forearms. He felt electric, primal, and utterly beautiful.

Peter stood up on the burning sand, his breath coming in shallow hitches as he looked down at the stranger’s body he now inhabited. He ran his thick, bronzed fingers over his own chest, marveling at the way the massive plates of muscle jumped under his touch. He traced the deep, carved lines of his abdominals—a hard, rocky terrain he had only ever seen in anatomy textbooks. He felt a surge of intoxicating vanity; his hands slid lower, feeling the powerful, heavy weight straining against the thin fabric of his Brazilian flag sunga. For a man who had always been "the skinny nerd," the sheer mass of his own thighs and the thrumming vitality between them felt like a drug.

He was so lost in the tactile worship of his new self that he didn't notice the shadow falling over him until a low, vibrating hum of energy approached from the shoreline.

Emerging from the white foam of the Atlantic was a vision of masculine perfection that made Peter’s heart hammer against his ribs. A massive hunk, his skin the color of deep ebony polished to a high, metallic luster, stepped through the surf. Water cascaded in diamond droplets off a chest so wide it seemed to block out the sun. Every stride he took revealed the terrifying power of his tree-trunk thighs, which threatened to burst the seams of his tiny, crimson square-cut trunks. Size of his manhood did not help with releasing of the stress from the red fabric, but it added more tension.

Peter stared, his mouth dry. He felt an instinctive, primal pull toward the man—a magnetic attraction that his "heterosexual" mind couldn't even begin to process. This was a god of the beach, a predator of grace and muscle.

The stranger stopped just feet away, the salt water glistening on the thick, tight curls of his hair. He tilted his head, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face—a face with features so sharp and handsome they felt like a physical blow to Peter's senses.

"Pedro?" the man asked.

The voice was a deep, resonant baritone, a rich sound that seemed to vibrate directly in Peter’s chest, making his own new muscles quiver. ‘Right, Pedro is actually my name,’ Peter realized.

Pedro blinked, the recognition hitting him like a tidal wave. The eyes—behind the mask of this dark-skinned powerhouse, the soul was familiar.

"Tayo?" Pedro whispered, his voice cracking with awe.

The two of them stood there, paralyzed by the sight of one another. The "library crew" was dead; in its place stood two embodiments of raw, Brazilian virility. Pedro felt a heat rising in his blood that had nothing to do with the sun. Looking at Tayo’s massive, wet shoulders and the way his red trunks clung to his heavy, muscular form, Pedro realized that their old lives—and their old certainties—had washed away with the tide.

The sheer impossibility of it all—the leap from debating quantum mechanics in a dusty library to this raw, tectonic physical reality—hit them both at once. Pedro looked at Tayo’s massive, ebony-bronze chest and then down at his own burgeoning, sun-kissed muscles, and a bark of incredulous laughter escaped his throat. Tayo joined him, his new, deep baritone booming over the crashing surf as they shook their heads in disbelief. They were two scholars trapped in the bodies of titans, and for a fleeting moment, the absurdity of their transformation provided a much-needed release from the overwhelming surge of new sensations.

But the laughter didn't last. As their eyes locked once more, the air between them thickened, becoming as heavy and electric as the atmosphere before a tropical storm. The humor vanished in an instant, replaced by a suffocating, erotic charge that made the pulse in Pedro’s throat throb with a violent rhythm. He watched a single bead of seawater trail slowly down the deep valley of Tayo’s pectoral muscles, disappearing into the straining waistband of his crimson trunks, and Pedro felt a primal hunger clawing at his gut. The "heterosexual" certainties they had carried their whole lives were incinerated under the weight of this new, magnetic pull. The tension between them was no longer a spark; it was a physical weight, thick and undeniable, drawing their massive, heated bodies together until the space between them was nothing but a memory.

Pedro reached out, his thick, bronzed fingers tangling in the curls at Tayo’s neck, while Tayo pulled him close, his massive arm wrapping around Pedro’s waist, pulling their hard, sun-warmed bodies together. The friction of skin on skin, the scent of the sea, and the raw magnetism of their transformation became too much to bear.

In the middle of the crowded beach, surrounded by the rhythm of Rio, they crashed together in a deep, desperate kiss. As their mouths collided, the friction of their massive, wet chests grinding together sent a jolt of white-hot fire through their veins, shattering the last of their inhibitions. They felt the heavy, thrumming weight of their new masculinity pressing hard against one another, a silent, carnal confirmation that their old boundaries had been completely obliterated. In the salt-tinged heat of that embrace, the logic of their past lives was replaced by a singular, pulse-pounding truth: they were no longer just friends, but two handsome men bound by a hunger that only their new, powerful bodies could satisfy. Their final summer had just become the beginning of their life far more daring than any book could ever describe.

"Avatar Mr Harris, is like a body for the computer assistant they have installed. Speaking of which do you think I could have one as well, it would help with scheduling and organising so much easy."

George scoffed "Johnny this programme was very expensive and cutting edge, the company isn't going to waste it on assistants. Now grab me a black coffee and a doughnut I have that meeting with the Europeans up on 78 in half an hour." George said dismissing Johnny and turning to look at his computer not noticing his assistant pouty face and whispered curse word as he went to fetch the coffee and snack.

George looked at the programme and lent closer to read the small text, at 58 his eyesight was only getting worse and being in front of screen all day wasn't helping. George read some text and barely understood most of the jargon but then read a word he had only learnt about moments ago. "Upload Avatar" George muttered and then his thoughts turned to what the IT guy had said about Higgin's new AI assistant, perhaps he could upload some hot twenty something bimbo with blonde hair and pigtails. George looked around as his cock started to stiffen in his pants, hearing a sexy dumb blonde every time would certainly make work more interesting. George then happily clicked upload and suddenly a sharp electrical shock ran through him, his computer screen turned a vibrant blue as a swirling portal like hole appeared. George's instincts were to pull away but he was quickly and violently pulled towards it and before he could even let out a yelp his whole body was thrown forward and his whole world began to spin.

George's whole vision went black and he felt like he was floating, he tried to shout but no sound emerged from his mouth, he tried to move but it was like he was embedded in rock. Then a white light flashed in front of his eyes and slowly his vision started to clear, he could see the window in his office, his filing cabinets, his office chair and his computer keyboard but something was off, the angle was wrong. George blinked more as he tried to search for his computer screen and what had happened to it and to him but, with the electrical buzzing around him, his new view and perspective George quickly understood why he couldn't see his computer. It was because he was now stuck inside of it and looking out at where he had just been sitting!

George tried to move again but his arms and legs stayed firmly down by his sides, the tried to scream for help but while his mouth opened and moved no sound emerged. George panicked he was like a mime trapped in a box except he was now a chubby 58 year business man trapped in his own computer! George's panic was then interrupted as a knock came from his office door and Johnny walked in holding the coffee and doughnut he requested.

"Mr Harris I have your coffee and I got you a selection of do- Oh, and you are not in here...great. The dick must have already gone to his meeting."

George was screaming for Johnny to see him, to help him but his muted lips did nothing to attract Johnny's attention as he dropped the coffee and doughnut on the side. George flailed against his invisible bonds but his body refused to move, he needed help desperately as he screamed until his face went red and then Jonny's face appeared in view, looking curiously at the computer screen where he was trapped. Johnny then came closer and sat down at the computer and George breathed a sigh of relief Johnny would see him and save him! This trapped nightmare would be over and he wouldn't be late for his meeting up on the 78th floor. However, George started to become worried as Johnny grabbed the mouse and started clicking but did not acknowledge George at all.

"Eurgh of course the asshole would make his AI assistant look like himself, what a fucking narcissist"

George tried to yell out, to explain that it was really him , he wasn't AI that he was trapped but his little sad expression and flapping mouth did nothing to attract Johnny's attention and he started to click on tabs and windows around George, his little electronic body feeling them around him and without reading he found himself knowing and sensing what the text said, it was like he was part of the computer, part of the network! George was bombard with a ton of information and he processed it all within moments all without his consent.

"Looks like IT did a good job setting him up." Johnny then looked to the office door and out the window to see if anyone was looking his way. "I'm sure Mr Harris wouldn't check if I take a copy of the programme home, but I ain't taking you Mr AI Harris" Johnny laughed as he clicked on the customise option.

George could sense the window that appeared around and even though he couldn't move to read it he knew exactly what it said, it was as his mind was connected to the computer. He could see the detailed description of his body, his face, his outfit and his overall impression where he was a little offended by the title of 'sale support role'. However, George quickly got over his offence as worry plagued him as he felt Johnny click on the appearance and began to edit, change and type.

Johnny typed away and spoke to himself "If I'm going to have my own AI I’m not having some chubby old guy, no thanks!" Johnny then began changing George's description and as he typed George felt something in him changing, something buzzing and electrical as his code started to get eaten up and rewritten to Johnny's liking. George tried to scream but his little open mouth was ignored by the rapidly typing Johnny. George squirmed as he could feel what Johnny wrote about the man being handsome and 20 years, young and fit. His hair being styled and neat, his eyebrows striking and his eyes now blue.

George winced as his felt his entire body buzz and change as the weight from his belly rapidly reduced and a strong flat stomach replaced it. The fat around his arms, legs and face also vanished and a smaller bulge of muscle appeared to give him a toned and athletic body, while his face buzzed with electricity as his eyes changed colour, his hair lengthened and thickened into a suave chic style as his eyebrows were shaped and plucked into line. George tried to shout again as his faced buzzed as he grew younger, his skin getting smoother, his jawline becoming more defined and masculine until he looked like a much young, more handsome version of himself. George would have been thrilled at the changes if he had been the one in control and not trapped and under the command of his assistants whims!

"That's better." Johnny said but it was obvious he still wasn't impressed or finished. "I think we need to get you out of that stuffy suit. I know how about..." Johnny said before trailing off and typing away. George still tried to shout to Johnny even though he knew it was pointless, he had no voice, he had no say, he had no control! George could only whimper and he felt Johnny's changes to his clothing typed up beside him. Gone was the suit and instead it was slowly being replaced by an outlandish, bright and deeply homosexual outfit. George could feel his clothing being stripped away as his jacket faded to nothing and his expensive dress shoes shimmered and changed into big white trainers with neon stripes. His trousers receded exposing more and more of his legs until the stopped at his upper thigh, the material became shiny and pink and attracted attention to his bulge. While his shirt became see through as it turned to a mesh material, the bottom became cropped exposing his lower abdomen and a deep v appeared down the chest exposing his chest. Everything became tight and revealing and George felt exposed and vulnerable but could do nothing to cover himself up!

"Ooh looking hot!" Johnny said pleased with the next outfit George was sporting even though George was still desperately calling for help and getting no response. "Hmmm but now that your body isn't covered up it could use some improvements, I wonder how big I can make you"

George winced, what did Johnny mean by big? George didn't have to wait too long to find out as Johnny's typings went straight to his head and immediately began editing his body. It started with his height as he grew taller by an least another foot, then his muscles started to expand. George's back grew wider and his shoulders rounded as his deltoids surged with new mass, capping his frame like cannonballs. His biceps throbbed and inflated dramatically, veins snaking over peaks that rose higher with every heartbeat, while his triceps hardened into dense horseshoes beneath them. His legs grew just as rapidly and wildly as his quads ballooned outward as thick columns of striated muscle pushed his legs apart. Then came his chest and George now understood what Johnny was talking about when he wondered how big he would get, as his pectorals ballooned outwards and hung from his chest like tits. The massive mounds of muscle blocked his view looking down and in his mesh shirt, his hard nipples were impossible to hide. George desperately wanted to move he wanted to feel and see his new body, not just know that he had changed. He hated how his brain seemed to be directly connected to the computer and even though he wanted to shout to escape a new part of him wanted to tell Johnny about his spelling mistake and a better way to phrase his sentence!

"Damn those are some big titties" Johnny chuckled enjoying creating his own assistant, blissfully unaware of the turmoil George was going through. "Hmm while I like it, I do think I need to look at someone a bit more exotic on my home screen" Johnny said as he started to type carefully thinking more carefully about what he meant.

George once again yelled, his silent scream ignored by his engrossed and now slightly horny assistant. It was only one small change to his description but those few little words, 'muscular Brazilian' changed everything about George as immediately his brain was flooded with Portuguese and his English knowledge was greatly reduced. George's skin started to darken as a deep rich bronze tan raced from his head all the way to his toes, his hair turned jet black and thickened considerably. George could feel his nose widen and his lips plump up, while his pectorals seemed to expand even further becoming even more prominent and oversized. George found his mind buzzing as well as instead of memories of home he found himself remembering a tropical beach, volleyball, carnival and the sounds of the rainforest. George tried to shake his head as if to shake the new memories away but his mind continued to buzz as his new code replaced his family, friends and home with an entirely different set of memories of living in South America. George just wanted to cry, he wanted to be himself, he wanted to be free and no longer did he want to be tormented by Johnny.

For the first time Johnny seemed to notice something wasn't quite right about the muscular, Brazilian hunk he had created as he looked at his shocked and sad expression. Curious, Johnny clicked on another tab and began reading before finding what he was searching for "Oh now I see why you have that sad look on your face." Johnny said and for the briefest of moment's George had some hope, hope that Johnny had finally worked out it wasn't just a programme that it was his boss who was trapped and was silently begging for help for the last 10 minutes!

"The man is hard-working, dedicated to the company, will feel hurt and disappointed if he fails the user, needs to be working 24/7 with an intense love for work and giving 100% to the company. A perfectionist and detailed orientated workaholic. Jesus no wonder you are miserable, standing around must be killing you. Don't worry I don't think I need someone like that. In fact looking at that beautiful face and sublime chest I doubt you are going to help me with much work." Johnny chuckled as he moved his hand to his pants and adjusted his growing erection before typing again. George wanted to scream as Johnny was no longer changing his appearance he was changing his very personality. Johnny started by erasing his eagerness to work, his perfectionism and his memory of all the knowledge of the company and soon it was replaced with gym routines, diets, locations of gay clubs, cocktails and gay club wear and fashion. George's mind swirled as he desperately tried to cling to his years of experience, the years he has spent working his way to the top but all of it began to slip away like it has never existed. George thought of his wife and kids but their faces now felt like images from an old dream. Instead all he could remember was eating plain chicken breast, working out his chest, chatting with other gym bro's, drinking to much and dancing until the early hours of the morning. George wanted to cry as his life was rewritten effortlessly into an entirely new person. George whimpered as Johnny typed up his new personality with words like 'bubbly, vapid, kind, sultry, arrogant, confident, show off'. George's mind began to slow as his jaw slackened and his stance relaxed. His terror and fear was pushed to the back of his mind along with any traces of the old him, who was trying with all his might to hold on but was losing. George felt his expression change as although he wanted to scream the new relaxed, vapid, vain him just smirked enjoying how much of his body he got to show off.

Johnny was now very pleased and now had one hand down his trousers as he touched his cock, while also looking at the door to make sure no one was close to approaching him and his himbo AI assistant. Johnny then moved the cursor over to the new George and to his delight found he could move his new assistant so he could see his new creation at all angles. George felt like vomiting as he was violently spun around on the spot, his face however also looking back out at the screen. George's panic and fear was concealed as the new Brazilian him who was more worried about his muscles than being trapped as an AI for his old assistant just smirked and flexed.

Johnny grinned as he looked at the back of his new creation and the cute little bubble butt that strained against the shiny pink hot pants.

Johnny then couldn't help himself, he had already given his new AI massive pectorals perhaps he could give him an ass that could rival their size. George was terrified and embarrassed as he felt his ass cheeks being to swell and expand, however the new him was thrilled as new thoughts of thongs and bent over ass selfies entered his head. George was fighting a losing battle as his cries for help, his humiliation were all confined to a rapidly shrinking area of his mind. When his ass cheeks had finished ballooning. each was now the size of basketball and wobbled obscenely as Johnny moved him around. Johnny was almost salivating over the man he had created and part of him was now wondering what to do with him, since he wasn't appropriate for work.

"What am I going to do with you...George? Eurgh I can't have you named after my boss!" Johnny pulled a disgusted face before tapping his fingers and thinking, then with a lightbulb moment he began typing. George could only scream "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" as his name was erased and so was the last of his control and the new him took over, the new himbo, vain, arrogant, show-off him took over. Rodrigo took over.

"Yeah you look much more like a Rodrigo and someone like you isn't going to be working in a silly office." Johnny smiled as his phone buzzed with the familiar notification sound that came from his dating app and suddenly Johnny knew what to do with Rodrigo.

Johnny then went into the inner workings of the AI settings and decided to give George or rather Rodrigo a new function. George could only whimper as his function was written deep into his very being. No longer would he be managing a team of accountants and setting up million dollar deals, no instead it seemed he would now being managing Johnny's dating life. George tried to fight back what was being written into his very code but it was pointless he had no control as Johnny rewrote his very purpose. 'Rodrigo's primary directive is to find attractive, muscular men from ages 18-50. Rodrigo will search all appropriate men's profiles, pictures and videos. Rodrigo will store and file all images and videos sent, organising pictures and videos and saving overtly sexual and adult content. Rodrigo will analyse images to find men with large penis's and large, shapely buttocks. Rodrigo will store and organise adults videos by type, length and fetish for example armpits, piss, farts and double penetration. Rodrigo will also search the internet for appropriate videos when requested by the user. Rodrigo will always present as sultry, sexual and horny willing to please his user with all requests.' Johnny smiled as his horny brain took over as Rodrigo would become his personal porn and hook up assistant, the best wing man a guy could ask for.

George just began sobbing as he realised what the rest of his life was going to be, he was going to be nothing for a gloried porn bot! A straight man trapped and watching, searching and organising hours and hours of gay porn and thousands of hours analysing men's bulges and butts. He was a smart, sophisticated, intelligent man now reduced to a pair of bouncy pecs and a fat peachy booty. George could already feel his body thinking of lewd poses it could stand in and out of no where a pink lollipop appeared and his new body stuck its tongue seductively and smirked a his new user and master.

"Fuck you are so hot Rodrigo, you first job is to find me a real guy that looks just like you" As Johnny moved the cursor and clicked the finish button, George Harris ceased to exist besides a tiny line of code trapped in the new himbo's head.

"Now let's see you in action big guy" Johnny then opened up the website for his dating profile and sure enough Rodrigo popped up. George was then barraged with images of men as he was forced to stare at their cocks and ass cheeks, analysing every single one. Looking closely at muscular men's physiques and faces to discern who Johnny would find the most attractive. However, George's disgust would never be seen as Rodrigo was thrilled at the bounty of beautiful men and had already found 8 that Johnny might like.

"Fuck all of them are so hot! How did I ever live without you Rodrigo?" Johnny smiled as he pulled out a pink flash drive from his pocket. "Now you are coming home with me, I need some action tonight and you are going to find me the perfect man."

George was sobbing and crying as he felt his entre being being sucked away and into darkness, taken away from his office, his life, his friends, his family all to become Johnny's new assistant where he would never get a raise and never get to go home.

The first few weeks were brutal for George as he was used endlessly and he organised over 500 hours of gay porn from the basic sex to the hardcore stuff. George had looked and watched hundreds of jerking cocks, dildo's in assholes and muscular men posing and flexing that his mind had almost started to snap at the thought of him watching this kind of content for the rest of his life. He programme would run continuously, meaning he never slept and never stopped, it was constant gay men for him every seconds, of every minutes of every day. George cried out for a break or even a change from the thousands of hours of porn he was forced to watch.

However, Johnny quickly found other programmes where Rodrigo could be useful. George was thrilled at the possiblity of being used for something else but it seemed that Johnny had been curious about a new adult fantasy role play game and he had just the right character to upload. Rodrigo was more than thrilled to flirt, kiss and fuck all the different characters but George on the other hand, he would never stop screaming when he had to spend the night with Gurt and Klugg the biggest horniest orcs on the internet.

It was late at night when you took your stroll, the sun having set along the horizon a couple of hours ago. The beaming sky and sweltering heat were replaced by darkness and cool, crisp air—somewhat damp and humid. The streetlights lining the area between the sandy beach and the hard concrete sliced the darkness, illuminating the sidewalk, while the beach remained in total darkness.

The once-packed businesses that lined the other side of the beach became vacant. The ambiance of people speaking, padded footsteps, and the occasional conflict ceased. You could hear your footsteps patting against the concrete and the faint, distant sounds of cars driving through Key Lento. The wind blowing caused the hanging palm trees to sway and rustle, and some sand particles from the beach dusted the sidewalk and your shoes.

Nightly strolls were the best, at times, if you avoided the more criminal and shady areas. The beach was probably the safest. You usually walked through the long stretch after working out at one of those twenty-four-hour gyms, or when you needed to get out, wanting to forget about your living situation and finances.

The sharp, salty, and fishy aroma of algae and other sources choked the air, enhanced by the cool air, which gave it a saltier, ozone-like scent. The smell didn’t bother you that much, but it was still putrid—an offense and assault to your nose. Your gaze moved to the empty, dark beach. While it wasn’t dirty per se, it wasn’t winning any of Leonida’s prizes or magazine titles as one of the state’s best beaches. Trash littered the grounds, embedded deep in the sand, but most of it has been cleaned by volunteers.

You saluted their efforts, unlike those rich bastards. They took an interest and decided to build marinas to dock their expensive yachts and boats, along with lavish resorts and homes, thereby gentrifying the area.

They always say that Key Lento was some sort of gateway to paradise, and apparently, they wanted to push the gateway further so people like you wouldn’t be allowed entry. You had a stable job, but due to the influx of wealthy individuals and real estate investment, you were barely above water. It felt like the ground was sinking beneath your feet, with your head inches away from being swallowed.

Rent and taxes were increasing, and your job wasn’t handing out promotions any time soon. The stress was getting to you, and this led to you relieving yourself with sex and walking at night. The walks did help, but sex was the ultimate relief you needed. Just the thought of dick made your pants feel tight, your dick chubbing in your underwear.

‘Shit, right now?’ you whined. You readjusted your pants, pulling at the fabric to free some space in your underwear. Thankfully, there wasn’t anybody out, otherwise you would’ve looked like a lunatic or some drug addict. You fiddle around with your pants, but it was temporary as your dick was filling the space, pushing the limits of your underwear.

Surveying the area, there weren’t many options to choose from to relieve your little predicament. The storefronts and restaurants were closed, meaning their bathrooms were as well. Then, your eyes fell on a conspicuous building in the middle of the beach. It was a sight for sore eyes, a beige brick building with a red-tiled roof and blue doors rose from the sandy expanses. It was a public bathroom and locker room. Perfect.

You didn’t hesitate, following the paved path with haste, your feet clamoring against the concrete as the beige building grew closer. Your dick bounced and throbbed, sensing that it was going to get the relief it needed. Pushing the blue door open, you were greeted with the typical public bathroom.

It was just as you expected—the metal stall doors, wide open, lined the grey-tiled walls, with urinals on the opposite side. The sinks sat beside the metal boxes with cracked, dirty mirrors; you could see rust chewing away at the metal pipes beneath the sinks. The buzzing of the light above was harsh, but it flickered and dimmed—probably needs maintenance. It kinda gave horror movie, killer vibes. Cleaning products mixed with the usual waste choked the air, another offense to your nose.

You sighed, groaning and tilting your head back. You didn’t want to be here, masturbating in some public bathroom on the beach, but you needed the privacy. It would do until you’ve dealt with your problem and return home. You peered into the various stalls, disgust visible on your face as you wondered if adult men were responsible for the mess cause there is no way a fully grown adult would do something like this.

The last two stalls were the cleanest, not as filthy as piss-stained tiled floors or shit smeared on the toilet bowl or seating—even on the stall itself. Stepping into the stall and examining the seat, you verified it was safe before closing and locking the metal door. You pulled down your pants and whipped out your throbbing cock. The piece of meat plopping out of your underwear, bouncing up and down, precum glistened your tip as it twitched with eagerness and the freedom of being out of its clothing cage.

Sitting on the seat, you gasped softly as the cold ceramic touched your ass cheeks. Your back pressed against the tank, your legs spread open and extended to the corners of the stall, as your hand wrapped around your sensitive cock. Muttering under your breath as a blooming warmth filled your body, muscles relaxing as you let your hand do the work, giving long, circular strokes.

Your breathing hitched, choking on your spit as you tapped your fingertips against the swollen tip, spreading the tiny split to show oozing precum. Using your free hand to scroll on your phone, you opened the Sniffies site—curious to see all the hot men and dicks in your area or from the nearby metropolis of Vice City. You used the site before; the easiest way to score dick and delve into some fantasy you wanted to try.

“Fuck… thats so huge.” You whined, slowing your stroking game to view the massive dick on your screen. It was 8.5 inches long with decent thickness. Looking through the profile and pictures provided, the guy was lean and cute, twenty-three years old, and straight-curious, but sadly, he was ten miles away. You would’ve loved to slobber on his dick, show him that a man knows another man’s pleasure.

Your area was a dry wasteland, drier than the Sahara Desert. Nobody was only online, but a profile piqued your interest. Not only was he the only one online, but he was surprisingly close. Clicking on the profile, there were no pictures, but information.

31m, 6’2, 215 lbs, 9” inches, muscular, dom top (breeder), straight.

‘Straight?’ you thought. It wasn’t uncommon for straight men to go onto these types of sites, wanting to have sex with men without vocally coming out to their loved ones, even going as far as to cheat on their wives, or they want to gaslight themselves into thinking that it's not gay as long as they’re not the ones being penetrated. Straight men confuse you. It's truly mind-boggling in their reasoning.

While you were deep in your thoughts, the man was coming closer. The distance was being slashed as the other guy was interested in getting his dick sucked.

Jason groped his massive bulge, squeezing his dick through his pants as he looked at your profile. The original plan was to go home and maybe pick up a hookup along the way to have a warm pussy wrap around his massive, throbbing dick. He needed some relief after nearly botching an operation and having his ass reprimanded by his employer. There were none, though, so he moved on to plan B.

He became aware of Sniffies from one of his colleagues. It was a gay hook-up site where gay and straight, even trans, men could find one another. The reason he was told this was that he wasn’t scoring any pussy and his distant, horny mind was interfering with work. He needed his balls to be drained, to have a hot mouth or pussy milk his dick. That’s when his partner suggested the site.

—

“That’s fucking gay. Why would I have another man suck me?” Jason bickered, taken aback by what was being said to him. There was no way in hell that he was going to fuck or stick his dick into another man. His dick was exclusively for pussy.

“Bro, I swear, he sucked my dick better than my girl. Plus, he gave me the feeling of anal!” the guy said, going into depth about gay sex and the sensational feeling and orgasm he experienced—the greatest bust in his life.

“Whatever, man, I’m not doing that gay shit,” Jason said, dismissing the other guy, but his dick throbbed at the thought. It's like his dick has a mind of its own; it doesn’t care if the hole or mouth belongs to a man or woman. It just wants to fuck.

“You're lost, dude.”

—

Despite being against the idea of having another man suck his dick, Jason hastily created a profile, adding some information but no pictures in case someone recognized him. He had to look up some terms used, but it wasn’t long before he was browsing the map. His neurons activated when he saw the various profiles. His dick jumped at the sight of another man’s ass, blood pumping into his massive piece of flesh as he scrolled through the man’s pictures.

Without shame, Jason dipped his hand into his pants, pushing past his underwear to stroke his dick. He walked and stroked, observing several profiles on the map, squeezing his dick and licking his lips whenever he saw ass. The filtering tool was heaven-sent, removing all the tops and showing the bottoms. Then, your profile popped up. You were the closest to him, and you were online—a green marker on the top.

“Fuck… that’s a fat ass.” Jason groans, looking up from his phone to see the approximation of your location via the map. Your profile showed you were close, inside a building on the beach. It didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for: a public bathroom structure.

‘Bingo’

You heard the bathroom door swing open, the hinges squeaking and producing an ear-shattering screeching sound that echoed in the empty bathroom. You jolted up, your relaxed body tensed. You sat up straight, no longer leaning against the tank as if you were in your room. Your legs closed and sprang back from the corners.

‘Why is someone here?! Is it that guy? Has to be.’ Your cock jumped at the thought of that man being here and his nine-inch dick. It has you drooling, your body physically reacting by producing saliva in anticipation of you getting your hands and mouth wrapped around it. How would it taste? How would it feel in your hands? Is he lying about his size?

The man’s heavy footsteps echoed, his shoes clicking against the tiled floors as his shadow came into view. You turned off your phone and held your breath. The stall door next to yours swung open, creating the same screeching before slamming closed. Your gaze followed his feet, and that’s when you noticed a huge hole cut out in the metal between the stalls.

‘Oh… OH’

You stumbled upon a gloryhole. This was a turn of events. You’ve seen glory holes in porn videos, but never in real life. The idea of sucking an anonymous man’s dick through a hole in the wall made your dick pump and your hole weep. Hearing the other man’s groans as you vigorously sucked and drained his dick—imagining his face twisted with pure pleasure as he pumped loads down your throat, feeding you his thick cum.

Your breathing became shallower, your hand returning to stroking as you tried to see the other side. Then a deep, masculine voice called from the other side.

“Suck my dick,” The anonymous man said. He didn’t give you time to respond before pushing his dick and balls through the hole. He wasn’t giving you an option; he was commanding you. There was no room for opposition as his dick stood tall and proud, clearly arrogant about its length and thickness. You could sense that he was a macho man from his tone, but by goodness, did his dick look appealing.

It's like you were hypnotized by it, salivating at the mouth, and your brain short-circuited and shut down as your instincts told you to suck it. Nine inches of meat and veined thickness, throbbing from the cold bathroom air and the expectation of a warm mouth sucking it. The flustered, red cockhead was leaking pearly beads of precum. Your eyes traveled down to see his dusted, heavy, egg-shaped balls.

Your night just got better.

Hastily kneeling on the bathroom floor, giving you a further close-up of this anonymous man’s massive cock. Everything about it screamed dominance and control—demanding your submission to it. Your mind is hazy with lust and need as you start to get to work on the man’s massive cock.

You gave experimental licks, dragging your wet tongue along the skin and veins. You could hear the man biting back his breathing, but that was gonna change. You moved your mouth to his heavy, sagging balls, sucking on them with vigor and with the intent to make him vocal. You wanted to hear those groans and moans, knowing that you were giving a straight man better head than his past partners or hookups.

Your head buried between his balls, his massive cock resting on your face as you serviced him. Your tongue swirled and pulled at them; you could feel how heavy and full his sack was in your mouth. You can tell he was backed up, his hot cum waiting to spurt out of his dick, eager to be milked.

As you sucked on them, a salty taste landed on your buds—must have been sweating in his pants all day. His pheromones were overwhelming, intoxicating even as your nose pressed against the source—buried deep in his sack. The musky and manly fumes are getting into your head, clouding your mind and senses.

You continued to inhale his delicious, musky scent, your eyes rolled back, making you want to stay in this position for the rest of the night. It was like you were caged by his scent, bound to kneel and suck for eternity—something you wouldn’t mind.

You continued to massage the man’s balls with your mouth, lathering them with your saliva and flicking the sacks. Your wish was granted as the man was becoming vocal. His heavy breathing and moans bounced off the walls as the straight, macho facade dropped.

“Yeah… keep sucking… f-fuck.” Jason’s breathing faltered as he let out deep, manly moans. He held onto the metal wall, amazed by how eagerly you sucked. More moans and groans choked out as you began to multitask, stroking his dick while sucking his balls. Your hand was firmly gripping and stroking his meat, a simple stroke, but you were purposefully milking him—squeezing strings of precum out of his slit and spreading it on his sensitive tip.

Jason didn’t want to admit it, but that bastard was right. This was better than anything he’s experienced before. You were a passionate and eager slut, going for his dick’s weak points. It felt like he was about to have a mind-numbing orgasm, and this was just you worshipping his nuts and stroking.

‘What would his mouth feel—’

You pulled back and didn’t wait to breathe as you wrapped your eager, wet mouth around the man’s shaft. The taste of his bitter precum hit first before subsiding as you bobbed your head up and down. Your tongue swirled and toyed with the slit, lapping and drinking the precum that oozed before shifting to the rest of his dick. You tightened your lips around his shaft, suctioning and hollowing your cheeks for better effectiveness. You could feel every ridge and vein as you took him deeper into your throat; the remaining inches were covered by your hand.

“Oh yeah,” Jason moaned, “That’s fucking good.”

“Mmmm,” you moaned back, happily taking the compliment. You were determined to rock this straight man’s world, drain his heavy balls, and give him the best earth-shattering orgasm.

You kept bobbing your head, taking as much into your mouth before stopping, cockwarming the anonymous man’s massive dick. The heavy piece of meat throbbed and gushed as it reveled in the warm, wet oral cavern. Jason felt like his dick was melting and being cooked, leading to more vocal responses and heavy breathing.

“Wish I knew you gays were this cock hungry… would’ve done this sooner,” Jason moans, his balls tightening and churning as he teeters on the brink of his orgasm. The only thing on the older man’s mind was to cum down your throat—reward you for your service with his hot, thick cum. He conjures the image of you swallowing his seed, kneeling and looking at him with your fucked out eyes.

You grinned. You had this straight man wither before you, his moans, groans, and praises filled your ears. It gave you a sense of control and dominance over him. He was like this because of you. His massive dick was hard and throbbing because of your mouth sucking the soul out of him. You were gonna have this man standing on his forefeet, toes clenching as his heavy sack was gonna be drained of his seed.

What an amazing feeling.

The feeling made your cock throb and ache. You wrapped your free hand around it and mimicked the way you were sucking. Long and deep strokes, spreading and lathering your cock with precum until it glistened in the fluorescent light. You shifted your knees to alleviate the stiffness, pulling back with a wet pop. You took deep breaths, your eyes half-lidded as you stared at the massive shaft—coated with precum and saliva, throbbing as it missed the warmth of your mouth wrapped around it.

You could hear he was disgruntled, asking with bated breaths about why you stopped and to wrap your mouth around his shaft again. You weren’t going to do that, instead opting to squeeze the flustered, swollen cockhead while mouthing and kissing the rest of his massive shaft.

“F-fuck… you love this dick, don’t you?” Jason moans. A deep, masculine laugh followed. Jason is aware of how magnificent and breathtaking his dick is. He was the whole package, physically wise: muscular, tall, and sporting a nine-inch dick—won the genetic lottery. He basked in the attention and admiration, purposefully going shirtless whenever he worked out, letting women ogle him, even men.

He didn’t mind men leering at him; he just didn’t wanna fuck them, until now.

“I do,” you replied, panting as you eagerly and desperately lick his dick before taking the shaft into your mouth. You moaned at the flavor and the heavy weight touching your tongue again. The vigor returned as you gulped and choked on every inch of the man’s shaft.

“Not gonna last much longer… be a good cocksucker… and take my seed—fuuuuuckkkk!” Jason roared out. He slammed his hips into the metal wall, pushing his dick further into your mouth as he stood on his toes. His body shook from the force, his backed-up balls unleashing weeks' worth of cum.

You could feel his dick expanding in your mouth, see his balls throbbing and tightening as he was pushed to the edge. The first shots of cum hit the back of your throat. You tried to swallow as much as you could, but your lungs were burning. You choked and pulled back, gasping for air, which soothed the burning sensation in your chest.

But the man’s dick didn’t stop cumming as his thick seed painted your face—shooting ropes of cum all over your face. After taking a couple of seconds to breathe and to reposition, you promptly took his dick back into your mouth. The flavor of his cum rammed into your taste buds as you could hear the man’s guttural moans echoing in the small space.

Even after Jason deposited his load, he was shocked to feel you continuing to bob your head. He stuttered out a weak moan, almost falling back as you squeezed his dick and balls, intending to drain the last few drops; you were sucking on it like a straw in a cold glass drink.

For three minutes, you sucked on his massive cock before pulling back, satisfied having drained a massive one. Jason’s dick lay flaccid, which still looked big despite being deflated. It was sad to see it pulled back from the hole. You could hear the rustling of clothing and hastened retreat. The stall door squeaked open with the familiar sound of shoes clicking against the tiled floor, growing farther.

“Thanks, man.”

That was the only thing the anonymous man said before leaving the bathroom. You were left in the bathroom stall, disheveled and sweaty, with your hand and the floor coated in ropes of cum. You weakly pushed yourself up, your knees flustered and ached as your skin dug into the rough tiled floor.

“Nasty, can’t believe I actually did this,” you mumbled, sitting on the toilet seat and yanking the cheap toilet paper from the holder. It was a fantasy to suck or fuck another man in public—in a discreet area, but it has the same adrenaline and risk that made your cock throb. Maybe you would’ve picked a more desirable location than a dirty bathroom on the beach, but you got to suck a massive dick.

That dick definitely and righteously earned its place as number one. The length and thickness, how it felt heavy and filled your mouth, and the flavor—you could keep sucking on it all day for the next fifty years.

But disappointingly, he was straight and most likely a one-time hookup. You should’ve expected something like this. You wiped off any remaining cum with the cheap toilet paper provided before leaving the stall to wash your hands. The room was quiet, other than the rushing sound of water going down the drain and your soft breathing.

Leaving the bathroom, you began your journey home. When you turned on your phone, the Sniffies website opened and loaded, showing you a new notification in your inbox.

“Name's Jason. Gonna need my dick sucked from now on.” The message reads, and below it was another picture of that massive dick.

Jason made you his official cocksucker.

…

It became a weekly, more like a daily occurrence.

Same bathroom and stalls, at the same time, but recently, morning and afternoon times were added. Jason was sticking his thick, massive cock through the hole, and you were quick to get your knees and worship that massive thing. Your warm mouth wrapped around it, eagerly sucking and choking as you wanted Jason to feed you his thick, creamy seed. You wanted to hear him let out those deep, manly groans as he unloads inside your mouth.

Never in a million years would Jason consider fucking another man, let alone getting his dick sucked. But after his encounter with you and how you sucked and gulped every drop of his cum down your gullet, he wanted more. Best blowjobs he’s ever received, his heavy balls being drained every day by an eager cocksucker. Your service also helped him with performance during an operation, earning praise and a bigger cut from his employer.

He was satisfied, but Jason wanted more. His dick and mind yearned for the feeling of another man’s tight ass wrapped around it. This need was further exacerbated by an extreme and fierce intake of gay porn and his partner babbling about how ass is better than pussy. You’re the best throat he’s had in years, and if your mouth is that good, he could only imagine what your ass feels like.

Your legs and cheeks spread open, your tiny rosebud eagerly waiting to be spilt. It wouldn’t be difficult to mount and fuck you into the ground. His dick leaked as he visualized the feeling and appearance of your tight anal walls clenching around his massive dick, pulling it deeper as he aggressively jackhammered your ass. He wasn’t going to stop until you were fucked dumb by his dick, nothing in your head, just moans and pleas for him to continue.

He was going to make this happen.

“Wanna fuck that ass.”

It was a simple, clear message, but it had you walking fast, quickening your pace as you didn’t hesitate to fulfill your own and his desire. Ever since you saw Jason’s dick through the gloryhole on that day, you wanted to feel it split your ass open and fuck you into oblivion. The length pushing into your tight, warm ass—deep thrusts as he rearranged your guts. The thickness spreading your anal walls, you could feel every vein and ridge grinding against your nerves, and his heavy balls slapping and mushing against yours. Despite being drained daily, they were still pumping huge loads—painting and filling your mouth with the thick goodness.

You could feel your hole aching and itching for Jason’s massive cock. The inside is burning and leaking for more, desperate to feel everything. The dildo you used beforehand might have been the reason for the aching sensation, and now, with the promise of being rammed by Jason, it demanded the real thing—rejecting the fake, silicon toy for the real deal.

You had been waiting for this moment. You didn’t want to bring it up in case it scared Jason away, and you’d lose access to easy dick and cum. At least, deep down, you had a hunch he’d come around eventually; they always do.

It was early in the morning, the sun having risen hours ago. You could see the once-closed businesses opening their doors and preparing for the day. There was a delicious, mouthwatering smell that mingled with the salty ozone aroma, the scent of food vendors, and the aroma of restaurants cooking their meals. There weren’t many people out, just scattered clusters along the sidewalk—no one on the beach.

Once you arrive at the bathroom, you do what you’ve been doing for the past couple of weeks: you wait for the accustomed sound. As you waited, a pit formed in your stomach. Your heart beat, and your breathing quickened, adrenaline rushing as an internal conflict took place. What if he chickens out, leaving you embarrassed and your time wasted? What if the wrong guy comes? Can you take it?

The big moment came when the door echoed the familiar squeaking and screeching. Footfalls clicked against the tiled floor, growing closer with each long stride. Then your stall closed and locked. You looked up, and your eyes were blessed with the sight of the sexiest man alive.

He had a polished yet rugged appearance—maturity that you liked. Light stubble dusted his chin and defined jawline, snaking beneath his nose. The rest of his features were covered. The wayfarer-style sunglasses blocked his eyes, but you could feel them boring into your being, predatory and hungry for what's coming next. He sported a backwards cap with strands of hair peaking out and sticking to his forehead.

That’s when you noticed he was sweating. Your gaze shifted to the rest of his body, taking in the eye candy that Jason was. His light-skinned complexion glistened with sweat, the fluid coating every nook and cranny. You made an educated guess about what he worked out before coming here. You zeroed in on his thick pectoral slabs; chest hair peeked from underneath his white tank top. You could make out the shape of his nipples—they were solid and pointy.

His tank top stuck to him like a second skin, giving you a full viewing pleasure of his ripped, sculpted body. His abs are etched deep and defined with bulging biceps and thighs as thick as trees. Everything about Jason was making you salivate and unimaginably horny—the itching was getting worse.

“Like what you see?” Jason teased, smirking as he peeled his sweaty tank top, revealing his chest hair matted with sweat. Your gaze followed the trail of hair, starting from his pectorals down the valley of his sculpted, defined abs. Your dick jumped when Jason peeled off his shorts, the belt clicking and clanking as he discarded it—tossing the garment to the side. His massive dick hangs between his thick, tree trunk thighs.

“Come on, don’t keep me waiting.” Jason grins, raising his muscular arm over his head, exposing his furry patch. Words stuck in your throat as Jason starts tugging his dick, the massive shaft growing in his hand.

You quickly stripped off your clothing, pulling and yanking at the fabric. Your heart was thumping, giddy with the anticipation of feeling Jason’s muscular body pressing against yours. The dream you’ve been having for weeks was coming true. You painted vivid images of Jason’s body, and he fit the description. You imagined running your hands over his shredded form, fingertips gliding over his coarse, scruffy hair, and feeling his warm, solid body molding against you.

Once your clothing was discarded, Jason paused his tugging and reached out to pull you closer. You let out a “oof” as you were pressed against the man’s solid, sweaty body. You could feel his dick throbbing against your thigh, pulsing from the contact of your relatively cold skin.

What caught your attention was Jason’s masculine funk. The man still had his arm over his head, letting his funk fill the air around you. It was making your head dizzy, causing it to swirl around in circles. Your breathing deepened as the heady scent filled your nose. Your body moved on its own, and without pause, you went in for that funk—burying your head and inhaling the sublime, heady mix of sweat and pheromones.

“Fuuucckk.” Jason exhaled, chuckling as he watched you worship his pit. You were something else. Hell, maybe he’s bisexual. He’s never experienced such depravity and eagerness.

You weren’t in control of your body as your primal instincts took over. You didn’t just sniff, you ran your tongue over the furry patch, licking and probing while your other hand kneaded Jason’s pecs. You began to thrust your hips, grinding your aching dick against Jason’s thick thighs—with him moving in rhythm.

“T-that’s it… keep g-going,” Jason stutters, letting out breathy and throaty moans. His free hand moves down to grope your ass, marveling at how it fills and spills through his fingers. Men have fat asses, too? Just feeling your ass in his palm was making his dick ooze precum—smearing against your thigh as he followed your eager rhythm. Your bodies moved in unison.

You licked slowly down his armpit, gliding your tongue to his hairy pecs as you wanted to feel every crevice of Jason’s body. Your dick throbbed from feeling Jason’s rough hands squeezing your ass—smearing fluids on his thigh. Soft moans escaped your lips, muffled by sucking and biting on his nipples. Jason tilts his head back, and another moan pulls from his lips. As much as he was enjoying this, he needed to be inside you.

“That’s enough. Now, how about you get my dick wet? I want to feel this tight ass.” Jason said, slapping your ass cheek, the skin rippling from the impact of his palm—the sound echoing off the tiled walls.

You didn’t hesitate, licking your way down his body, past his navel, following the happy trail to your happy meal. Kneeling before Jason’s ripped, dominant body, his dick came into your view, erect and standing proud, beads of sticky precum oozing, and his heavy, furry balls dangling. You took the massive thing into your mouth, lips tightening around it as it glided back and forth—holding and ramming your tonsils over and over.

Jason groans in ecstasy as he hears you slobbering and choking on his dick. Your wet mouth coating his thing with copious amounts of saliva, lathering and preparing it for penetration. He moved his hands to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair—guiding and holding you in place. Your mouth was enough to make him cum, but he held back. If it were any other time, he would’ve fed you his load, but not now.

“Bend over.” Jason grunts, gripping your hair and pulling you off his dick.

You took deep breaths, eyes locked on Jason’s massive, glistening shaft—admiring the sight. Every ridge was generously lathered, the cockhead flustered and pulsing. You overworked your glands to produce enough saliva for preparation; you should’ve brought lube. When Jason spoke again, you scrambled off the floor and gripped the toilet’s tank—presenting your ass to the man who’s gonna fuck you as if you were a virgin.

“Mmm, this is what I like to see.” Jason groans, his hand making contact with your ass, delivering another slap that rocks your body. He marvels at your ass before lathering one and then two fingers.

You gasped as you felt Jason’s thick fingers teasing your hole, rimming the tight ring of muscles with his tips. Your hands hardened their grip on the ceramic tank, holding onto the porcelain for stabilization as Jason worked his fingers—stretching and scissoring your hole. You could feel them pressing around your inner walls, bumping and poking the flesh. It felt so good, your ass clenching around the invading fingers at the thought of Jason’s dick replacing them.

“So fucking tight,” Jason growls. He could hear your whines and moans growing louder as his fingers touched and rammed into a certain area. That must have been the elusive sweet spot inside of men. He could see your legs wobbling and your dick flopping between your legs—thick strings of precum gushing out as your dick was painfully throbbing and flustered.

Then Jason pulled his fingers out, deeming you prepared for the main event. He watched your entrance pulsing and clenching around nothing, searching for something to fill it and eagerly drag it in. Your hole went from stretched and gaping to small and tight—incredible. He needed to be inside you immediately.

You let out a disappointed whine, but that was quickly shut down when you felt a thick, blunt head pressing against your tight sphincter. Jason gripped his massive cock with one fist, positioning and pushing the helmet through your entrance. There was some resistance before his massive shaft pierced the tight ring, his cockhead stretching your hole as a flash of pain consumed you.

“Oh, f-fuck… y-you’re so huge.” You cried, your fingers digging into the ceramic tank. If it were a cheap toilet, the damn thing would’ve shattered from the force you were applying. You stood on your forefeet, your legs and body shivering as Jason continued to push his massive cock until he was balls deep—his heavy sack mashing against yours.

The oxygen was knocked out of you, and drool dribbled out of your mouth as you choked on your saliva. Your chest heaved rapidly as you tried to calm down and relax. Your mind was racing, but the immense sexual pleasure clouded you. This man was making you feel like a virgin again.

Your asshole is being split open beyond belief, the burning sensation from the massive shaft grinding against your inner, pink walls. You could feel Jason’s dick breaching depths you didn’t know were possible.

“Shhiitt. Fucking tight. Feels like I’m about to cum.” Jason said, letting out a bellowing groan. His rough, meaty hands moved to your hips, gripping them with an iron hold. Jason withheld from thrusting, biting back so he doesn’t cum, but you were making that impossible. Your ass was massaging and tightening around him, pulling him deeper.

The pause was grueling. It felt tight, figuratively and literally. The tight, closed space of the stall was becoming unbearable. There was no sound besides labored breathing and soft moans. The pause ended when Jason pulled out, leaving the cockhead before plummeting back into your ass. The once quiet room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping and moans.

Your eyes rolled back into your head from each forceful thrust—your dick flopping back and forth, slapping against Jason’s balls. Jason tilted his head back, groaning as this was the best sex he’s had in years. Your ass happily accepts his massive dick, seemingly learning the shape and size instantly.

“You like this dick inside this hot cunt?” Jason groans, slapping your ass with each thrust of his hips

“Y-yes! Feels so good.” You exclaimed, breathless with each thrust. Your dick is on the verge of shooting its load.

Then the bathroom’s entrance screeched open, the sound reverberating off the walls. Before you could react, Jason pulled you against his body—his sweaty, matted hair grinding against your back. He stilled his thrust and clasped his meaty hand on your mouth, ensuring total silence. You both listened to the clicking of sandals against the floors, followed by the familiar sound of piss streaming and hitting the urinal.

Jason didn’t care, though. This random stranger wasn’t going to prevent him from fucking your tight ass. He discreetly fucks you with short but deep thrusts. Your eyes widen before becoming half-lidded when you feel his free hand stroking your dick—each stroke mimicking his thrusts as he was determined to fuck your brains out.

He didn’t care that another man was a couple of feet away from them.

“Shhh. As much as I wanna hear those moans, I don’t wanna get caught—unless you want that.” Jason purrs into your ear, his voice low and deep. He never thought he’d be into exhibitionism, but the adrenaline was making his dick painfully throbbing inside your ass, signaling his impending orgasm.

“You want that?” Jason growls, disregarding the other man as he delivers a series of deep thrusts. Wet squelching and skin slapping grow louder—surely alerting the newcomer. Your moans were muffled by Jason’s hand, but you didn’t care, not with his other hand stroking your dick, tugging and squeezing the thing as he fully intended to make you cum.

Meanwhile, the other man was cleaning off his cockhead after relieving himself in the urinal. He bobbed his head side to side, jamming out to the music playing from his headphones. He was unaware of the debauchery happening a couple of feet away. That’s when he heard muffled groans and gruffing coming from the last stall. He shrugged it off as someone taking a dump—brave since it was a public bathroom; if it were him, he’d hold it in till he got home.

The groaning got louder, slicing through the stream of water from the faucet—even his headphones. Wow, that guy must be fighting demons. Probably constipation. Then he heard banging against the metal sheets, fists colliding in rhythm, and the signature groan ranging. It was getting kind of awkward. The poor guy was probably embarrassed about letting it rip.

“Good luck, dude,” the guy said, drying his hands and exiting the bathroom to continue his morning jog across the beach. He remained blissfully unaware that two men were having sex in the stall—the groaning and banging were products of their coupling.

“Finally, he’s gone… not gonna last much longer. Gonna breed this tight cunt.” Jason growls, removing his hand from your mouth. His thrusts became sloppy, but he continued to jackhammer your quivering hole. He’s since removed his hand from your dick, transferring it to your hips.

“P-please, shoot your load inside me!” you begged, tilting your head back to rest on Jason’s shoulders—arching your back to let him go deeper. Your prostate was constantly being rammed into, the cockhead hitting the bundle of nerves—setting your body ablaze as the message of pleasure travelled through you. You let your moans pour out of your mouth, no longer shackled by shame and Jason’s hand.

Jason didn’t get to respond when you overshadowed him with your bellowing moans. Your flopping dick burst, spraying cum all over the ground and toilet. Your thick seed flying up and down as you came hands-free. The orgasm left you exhausted, panting, and heaving as it felt like your soul was taken by the reaper. Jason held you close to him, pressing your sweaty bodies against each other.

“Oh fuck, I’m about to bust! Open that tight cunt.” Jason commanded as his dick was being suffocated. Your orgasm caused you to tighten around him, squeezing and milking him.

“Y-yes! B-breed…” you replied, completely out of it, but still hungry for Jason and his thick seed.

“Yeah, here it comes—yeah—yeah—fuuucckk,” Jason growls and groans, his body convulsing. He gave a few more thrusts, his heavy balls throbbing against yours as his big dick erupted in your ass. You could feel his dick throbbing before thick ropes of cum spewed from the slit, flooding your deepest recesses until his balls were drained.

You both were drained and exhausted. The smell of sex and semen choked the air. You both were panting, taking gulps of air. Jason kept his dick lodged deep inside you, preventing his seed from gushing out of your fucked hole. This was the best experience you both had. Jason is certain he can never go back; the damage was done, and he’ll gladly take it.

“Round 2? At my place?”

The End

Author’s note: Hello, my strawberries! I hope y’all enjoyed this fic! This is probably the fastest I’ve completed one. I feel like I really captured Jason. God, I need that man. There is certainly more content for him. Mark Grayson may be next.

Special thanks to my proofreader: @sagethegaywitch

First, I felt a strange lightness. My heavy, protective clothing simply evaporated, leaving me exposed for a split second before I felt the constricting, supportive grip of electric blue wrestling spandex. It materialized against my skin, clinging to me like a second, tighter layer of self. It was unapologetic, forcing me to feel the shape of my own body.

Then, a sharp, electric tingle erupted across my scalp. It felt like a thousand tiny sparks were dancing through my hair. I felt the weight of my dark locks vanish, replaced by a sudden lightness as they turned a piercing peroxide blond. I could feel the strands shifting, shortening, and molding themselves into a sharp, modern cut that felt aggressive and sophisticated. My face felt open, framed by a style that demanded to be looked at.

But the real magic was internal. A wave of intense, liquid heat flooded my core. I felt my soft edges begin to melt away—literally. In a matter of seconds, the weight I had carried for years simply vanished, leaving me lean and agile. But the emptiness was instantly filled with power.

My shoulders surged outward, broadening with a terrifying strength that stretched the blue spandex to its limit. My chest didn't just grow; it hardened into thick slabs of solid muscle that pushed firmly against the fabric. I gasped as I felt the skin of my stomach tighten and ripple, forming a rock-hard six-pack that felt like a shield of armor.

The transformation finished in my legs, but the surge of power didn't stop at my muscles. I felt a heavy, grounded strength settle into my lower body as my thighs thickened into massive, muscular pillars. The electric blue spandex groaned under the pressure, straining against my new, dominant physique. As my frame expanded, I felt a sudden, heavy shifting in my groin—a surge of growth that filled out the front of the suit with a bold, unmistakable bulge. The thin fabric, stretched to its absolute limit, left nothing to the imagination, proudly showcasing the raw, alpha reality of my transformation. I stood taller, my posture corrected by the sheer mass of my new muscles and the weight of my new self. I felt powerful, potent, and utterly undeniable.

The Recognition

I slowly raised my eyes to the mirror behind the bar, and my breath caught in my throat. I didn't recognize the powerhouse staring back at me. I was no longer a shadow; I was the light. My reflection was a masterpiece of raw strength and curated style. I flexed instinctively, watching the way the neon light danced over the blue spandex and my new, carved muscles. I felt a surge of pride so thick it was almost overwhelming.

Before I could even wrap my head around this new reality, I felt a large, warm hand settle firmly on my shoulder. The touch was electric. I turned, my movements now fluid and confident, to find a stunningly handsome man standing inches away. His eyes weren't just looking at me—they were devouring me, filled with an unadulterated hunger.

He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. He simply stepped into my space, his gaze locked onto mine, and leaned in. He closed the final distance and pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss. As our lips met in the center of that neon-soaked room, the world around us blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors. For the first time in my life, I wasn't just present—I was the center of the universe.

As James gripped the cork, it didn't just pop; it exploded. A geyser of chilled wine drenched them both, soaking through their clothes. They both stood frozen, sputtering and blinking through the spray, before the absurdity of the mess broke the tension. They erupted into breathless laughter.

"Well, so much for a civilized drink," Frank managed to say, wiping a trail of sparkling liquid from his jaw.

The wine felt unusually thick, leaving behind a syrupy, herbal stickiness that made their skin tingle wherever it touched. Shivering slightly from the sudden chill, and with their wet clothes sticking provocatively to their thighs with every movement, they retreated to their separate rooms to wash away the sweet, fragrant mess.

The Shower

In his bedroom, James stepped into the steaming shower. He pumped a generous amount of soap labeled "Bear Strength." “Hmm, a special branding for this cabin,” he thought to himself. The scent was intoxicating—heavy notes of cedar, wild musk, and crushed herbs. As he lathered his pale, smooth chest, he felt a strange hum beneath his skin, a buzzing warmth that didn't come from the water.

Emerging with a towel around his waist, he found the dresser. He tried to see if it could contain any spare clothes. Apart from one lone pair of red boxer briefs, it was completely empty. “Why not? They look clean,“ thought James and he pulled them on; they were tight but comfy, framing his slender hips. Exhaustion hit him like a physical weight, and he collapsed onto the bed, falling into a deep, unnatural slumber.

Down the hall, Frank washed with the same herbal products. In his room, he found only a pair of snug white boxer briefs. He pulled them on, feeling a sudden, restless heat radiating from his core. He laid down, expecting a nap, but his mind went dark the moment his head hit the pillow.

The Transformation

As the moon rose, the "strength" promised by the wine began its work. In James’s room, the air grew thick with the scent of pine. His golden hair darkened to a rich, espresso brown, growing longer and curling wildly. On his smooth chest, coarse dark hairs sprouted, spreading in a thick mat down to his stomach.

The silence of the room was broken by the unsettling, rhythmic creak of bone shifting against bone. James’s breath came in ragged hitches as his skeletal structure began to rebel against its own limits. His once-narrow shoulders didn't just grow; they seemed to explode outward, the clavicles lengthening with a series of dull, wet pops that resonated deep in his chest.

What were once soft, boyish shoulders rapidly hardened, the muscle fibers knitting together and layering over themselves until his deltoids rounded into heavy, granite-like stones that pushed his arms further from his torso. Simultaneously, his chest began to grow. His pectorals didn't just swell, they erupted, thickening into massive, anvil-thick slabs of solid muscle that met in a deep, shadowed valley down the center of his torso.

As the muscle peaked, a carpet of coarse, dark hair broke through the skin in a frantic prickle, swirling across his newly forged chest and reclaiming his body with a primal, masculine ferocity. Every inch of him was becoming dense, heavy, and undeniably powerful. Down below, the red fabric strained. His thighs surged with new mass, and his manhood thickened, creating a heavy, undeniable weight against the cotton. He had aged nearly a decade in an hour; the boy was gone, replaced by a massive, rugged "bear" of a man.

Meanwhile, Frank’s change was one of raw, masculine power. His dark hair began to recede, leaving his scalp smoother and balder with every minute passing. On his smooth face, a thick, rugged beard started to grow along his jawline, changing to dark and masculine.

A violent, electric heat surged through Frank’s extremities, and his once-lanky limbs began to fill out with a sudden, explosive force. It was as if his very DNA was being rewritten in real-time; his slender biceps began to peak and coil, thickening into heavy, corded ropes of muscle that strained against his skin. A dark, masculine forest of hair erupted along his forearms and shins, marking the end of his youth. His torso underwent a brutal reconstruction, the soft skin of his belly hardened, snapping into a rock-hard six-pack.

Above, his chest didn't just grow; it inflated with a primal density. His pecs surged forward, squaring off into two massive chunks of meat that felt heavy and immovable. Every breath he took seemed to push his ribcage wider, forcing his shoulders to flare out until he occupied twice the space he had minutes before. The transformation culminated in a frantic groaning of fabric. His white boxer briefs were now stretched to their absolute, translucent limit, the elastic waistband biting deep into his thickening waist. The front pouch, once loose, was now filled to burst, forced to contain the heavy, pulsing weight of his newfound size. Laying there in the moonlight, he no longer looked like a student. He looked like a monument of virility; a man carved directly from the ancient stone of the mountain itself.

The Awakening

The next morning, James woke up feeling heavy, powerfully heavy. He swung his legs off the bed. His thick, hairy thighs felt like tree trunks. He walked into the living room, his voice dropping an octave into a low, vibrating rumble as he called out, "Frank?"

Frank stepped out from the opposite door. Both men froze.

The silence was electric. James stared at Frank’s bald, bearded dominance—the way his white boxers struggled to contain his powerful legs and the massive bulge at his crotch. Frank couldn't take his eyes off James’s hairy, barrel-chested physique, his breath hitching at the sight of the raw, muscular bear standing before him.

Their voices were no longer the light tones of college friends; they were deep, primal growls.

"James?" Frank whispered, his voice vibrating in his own chest. "You... you look..." "And you look…," James rasped. They started laughing. They were in a disbelief at what had become of their puny frames during the night.

The air between them changed. The "hetero" friendship they had arrived with had evaporated, replaced by magnetic, carnal gravity. James stepped forward, his massive chest nearly brushing Frank’s. The scent of the herbal soap—now mixed with their own pheromones—was overwhelming.

James reached out, his large, calloused hand resting on Frank’s broad, hair-covered shoulder. The touch sent a jolt of pure electricity through them both. They looked down at each other's strained waistbands, the mutual arousal impossible to hide.

Their lips met in a crash of beard and heat, a desperate, hungry confirmation of their new forms. When they finally pulled apart, gasping, James gripped Frank’s waist, pulling him flush against his massive frame.

"My room," Frank growled, his eyes dark with intent, "or yours?"

But as Peter’s hands slid over Tao’s narrow shoulders, and Tao’s fingers traced the delicate line of Peter’s spine, a confusing, electric shiver bypassed their logic. They felt a strange, pulsing heat radiating from the lotion—a warmth that began to melt the rigid boundaries of their "straight" identities into something far more intimate, primal, and undeniable.

“I am going to water,” said Tao nervously.

“Yeah sure,” reply equally nervous Peter. ‘What as that? I’m not gay…’  he though himself. “I’ll stay, watch over our things and get some tan.

Tao quickly stood up. With a soft, hungry smile, he quickly wandered toward the crashing turquoise waves of the Atlantic. Peter laid back on his towel; his eyes fluttering shut as the Brazilian sun began to bake the magic into his pores.

Under the searing heat, the science of the world dissolved into pure alchemy.

Inside Peter’s chest, a low, rhythmic thrumming began, like a samba beat echoing in his marrow. His posture, once hunched from years of poring over heavy textbooks, suddenly snapped straight. He felt a delicious, agonizing stretch as his skeletal frame expanded. His narrow shoulders began to widen with a tectonic shift, the bone and sinew thickening into a powerful, broad "V" shape.

He groaned as his pale, translucent skin began to drink in the light, deepening second by second into a rich, glowing mahogany. His thin, ginger hair began to coil and darken, transforming into thick, raven-black curls that felt soft and wild to the touch. Across his torso, the soft flesh hardened; his chest swelled into two massive, sculpted plates of granite muscle. Below, his stomach rippled and constricted, carving out a "six-pack" so sharp it looked chiseled from marble.

But the most intoxicating sensation was the surge of raw, masculine power blooming between his legs. His loose shorts began to shrink and tighten, the fabric morphing into a pair of minuscule, patriotic Brazilian flag sungas. As the swimwear retreated, his anatomy surged with a new, heavy vitality—a thick, proud fullness that strained against the thin lycra, announcing his newfound virility to the salt-thickened air.

Peter opened his eyes, and the world was no longer a blur. His glasses were gone, his vision now razor-sharp. He looked down at himself, his breath hitching at the sight of his own massive, bronzed thighs and the hard, vascular roadmap of his forearms. He felt electric, primal, and utterly beautiful.

Peter stood up on the burning sand, his breath coming in shallow hitches as he looked down at the stranger’s body he now inhabited. He ran his thick, bronzed fingers over his own chest, marveling at the way the massive plates of muscle jumped under his touch. He traced the deep, carved lines of his abdominals—a hard, rocky terrain he had only ever seen in anatomy textbooks. He felt a surge of intoxicating vanity; his hands slid lower, feeling the powerful, heavy weight straining against the thin fabric of his Brazilian flag sunga. For a man who had always been "the skinny nerd," the sheer mass of his own thighs and the thrumming vitality between them felt like a drug.

He was so lost in the tactile worship of his new self that he didn't notice the shadow falling over him until a low, vibrating hum of energy approached from the shoreline.

Emerging from the white foam of the Atlantic was a vision of masculine perfection that made Peter’s heart hammer against his ribs. A massive hunk, his skin the color of deep ebony polished to a high, metallic luster, stepped through the surf. Water cascaded in diamond droplets off a chest so wide it seemed to block out the sun. Every stride he took revealed the terrifying power of his tree-trunk thighs, which threatened to burst the seams of his tiny, crimson square-cut trunks. Size of his manhood did not help with releasing of the stress from the red fabric, but it added more tension.

Peter stared, his mouth dry. He felt an instinctive, primal pull toward the man—a magnetic attraction that his "heterosexual" mind couldn't even begin to process. This was a god of the beach, a predator of grace and muscle.

The stranger stopped just feet away, the salt water glistening on the thick, tight curls of his hair. He tilted his head, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face—a face with features so sharp and handsome they felt like a physical blow to Peter's senses.

"Pedro?" the man asked.

The voice was a deep, resonant baritone, a rich sound that seemed to vibrate directly in Peter’s chest, making his own new muscles quiver. ‘Right, Pedro is actually my name,’ Peter realized.

Pedro blinked, the recognition hitting him like a tidal wave. The eyes—behind the mask of this dark-skinned powerhouse, the soul was familiar.

"Tayo?" Pedro whispered, his voice cracking with awe.

The two of them stood there, paralyzed by the sight of one another. The "library crew" was dead; in its place stood two embodiments of raw, Brazilian virility. Pedro felt a heat rising in his blood that had nothing to do with the sun. Looking at Tayo’s massive, wet shoulders and the way his red trunks clung to his heavy, muscular form, Pedro realized that their old lives—and their old certainties—had washed away with the tide.

The sheer impossibility of it all—the leap from debating quantum mechanics in a dusty library to this raw, tectonic physical reality—hit them both at once. Pedro looked at Tayo’s massive, ebony-bronze chest and then down at his own burgeoning, sun-kissed muscles, and a bark of incredulous laughter escaped his throat. Tayo joined him, his new, deep baritone booming over the crashing surf as they shook their heads in disbelief. They were two scholars trapped in the bodies of titans, and for a fleeting moment, the absurdity of their transformation provided a much-needed release from the overwhelming surge of new sensations.

But the laughter didn't last. As their eyes locked once more, the air between them thickened, becoming as heavy and electric as the atmosphere before a tropical storm. The humor vanished in an instant, replaced by a suffocating, erotic charge that made the pulse in Pedro’s throat throb with a violent rhythm. He watched a single bead of seawater trail slowly down the deep valley of Tayo’s pectoral muscles, disappearing into the straining waistband of his crimson trunks, and Pedro felt a primal hunger clawing at his gut. The "heterosexual" certainties they had carried their whole lives were incinerated under the weight of this new, magnetic pull. The tension between them was no longer a spark; it was a physical weight, thick and undeniable, drawing their massive, heated bodies together until the space between them was nothing but a memory.

Pedro reached out, his thick, bronzed fingers tangling in the curls at Tayo’s neck, while Tayo pulled him close, his massive arm wrapping around Pedro’s waist, pulling their hard, sun-warmed bodies together. The friction of skin on skin, the scent of the sea, and the raw magnetism of their transformation became too much to bear.

In the middle of the crowded beach, surrounded by the rhythm of Rio, they crashed together in a deep, desperate kiss. As their mouths collided, the friction of their massive, wet chests grinding together sent a jolt of white-hot fire through their veins, shattering the last of their inhibitions. They felt the heavy, thrumming weight of their new masculinity pressing hard against one another, a silent, carnal confirmation that their old boundaries had been completely obliterated. In the salt-tinged heat of that embrace, the logic of their past lives was replaced by a singular, pulse-pounding truth: they were no longer just friends, but two handsome men bound by a hunger that only their new, powerful bodies could satisfy. Their final summer had just become the beginning of their life far more daring than any book could ever describe.