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Hi everyone! I’m 25 years old. I’m 5’2 tall and 120 lbs. I have always been a little, skinny guy since the elementary school. I often got bullied or felt like a loser because I am a loser. But I decided to change this, so I registered to a gym club in my neighborhood.

In my first day, I decided to start with bench press. I took an empty bar and racked it. Right before I lay down on the bench, somebody pushed me to the side (and made me almost fall) and a few other people put three 45-pound weights to the each side of the empty bar. Those people were all hunks but the guy who pushed me was the biggest of them. He was at least 6’4 tall and pretty big by the width.

“Hey! I was gonna work there!”

“Oh, you little boy. Guys, look how cute he is.” he looked down on me. “Look, you little bastard. My rules works here. I can do whatever I want. Do you have a problem with that?” I was furious but I had nothing to do against him. He was at least four times bigger than me by size.

“You’re gonna pay for this one way or another.” and I stormed off.

While I kept working out, I was checking him at the same time. He was lifting a 315-pound weight on bench. After 15 reps, he racked the bar, got off the bench, took off his shirt and gave his phone to one of the guys around him to take a picture of himself. He gave a pose with 65-pound dumbbells. After the other guy took the picture, he took the phone back and started to think about what was gonna write under it before sharing it on the social media.

“How old is he, any guess?” he showed me while I was pretending to not hear them.

“16, maybe?” another guy answered.

“So, I’m gonna write ‘Can you believe I’m only 16?’ even though I’m 23. So, more people will follow me.” After he used his phone, he put it back to his pocket.

“Alright guys, I’m gonna head off. I have an important meeting today, I gotta stay pumped.” he said and headed to the locker room. I kept working out for another 20 minutes and decided that this was enough for today. I picked my water bottle and headed off to the lockers. When I entered to the lockers, I saw an unexpected scene. The guy who pushed me earlier today was sitting on a bench, rubbing his 13-inch hard cock right in front of the door.

“Oh gosh, what the hell are you doing!” I closed my eyes.

“You came right in time! I needed somebody. Come here you little bitch!” He pulled me from my arm, held my head and forced me to do a blowjob. At first, I thought I was gonna choke because of the whole 13-inch cock entering into my mouth and throat; but I got used to it. I tried to take my head off, but he was too strong.

Then suddenly, I felt a difference. I felt like my clothes were getting tighter. At first, I thought it is because I was forced to do something I didn’t want but then, I heard a ripping sound. When I looked at my right arm, it was bulged with muscles and the sleeve of my top was ripped. Then I heard another ripping sound. This time, it was my chest -or should I say my pecs?- . When I looked at the guy, he was smaller. His torso, arms, traps were all deflated. His abs were almost gone but he didn’t seem he was aware any of this. His eyes were closed, his head was rested to the wall and he was enjoying the sexual pleasure.

With all the ripping sounds coming all off my clothes, I kept going on. I also realized I was much taller than I was. After my underwear ripped off, my 4-inch hard cock came out. I kept going on but this time, while I was enjoying myself at the same time. I was so turned on of the new muscles and height I stole. Right before I sucked all of his muscles and height, he started to moan pretty loud and cum into my mouth. I decided to swallow of it all, just in case I lost the muscles back all. He was cumming hard and a lot, but his dick was getting smaller in my mouth. At the same time, I felt my cock was swelling fast and harder in my hand.

After he was done cumming, I took his new 2-inch cock out of my mouth. When I stood up, I hit my head up to the ceiling. The ceiling was low and I was extremely tall. I was at least 6’11. When I looked at the mirror, I couldn’t see my face but I was seeing all of my big muscles. When I bent down a little to see my face, I saw that I also kind of stole his look, too. My eyes were back at my muscles. I flexed them all to from the top to the bottom. Before I got to my legs, I saw my huge, rock hard, 15-inch dick throbbing.

After I started to rub it with my hand, I saw the little guy was waking up from his orgazm. When he saw me, he screamed in a high pitched tone. His voice was very high like a 10-year-old girls. Then he saw his body and screamed again.

“What happened to me? What did you do to me?” he asked.

“I guess I drained your body.”

“No way I’m giving them away!” he said and started to suck the head of my 15-inch. I was gonna stop him at first, but I thought that if he started to get bigger, I was gonna stop him right there. Until then, I decided to have some fun.

“Sucking just the head is not enough.” I said and pushed all the 15 inches into his throat. He started to gagging and his face turned into red. To not choke him, I let him free and he took my monster out off his mouth. But he started to suck it again, he was decided to get his body back. He was pretty good at sucking. After a whole 20-minute oral sex, I was right at the edge of cumming. I was still not sure about letting him swallow my semen but I wanted to fill him with my cum so much. When I couldn’t keep it anymore, I pushed all the 15 inches in again and started to cum with a big moan. While he was gagging again, his stomach started to fill up. After 2 minutes, I was still cumming and his stomach was like he had swallowed a few oranges. After I stopped cumming, he had no transformation and my monster was still hard, dripping precum like it has never cummed before. When he was about to crying, I took him between my hands.

“Oh, you little boy. Look how cute you are. I’m not done with you, you little bitch.” and I laid him down to the bench. I was rubbing my monster to the ring of his tight, little ass. He was frightened because I was gonna put this monster into him. When I pushed the head into him, he moaned with pain and pleasure.

“Oh, I know you love this and you are gonna get more of this.” I suddenly pushed my huge dick all the way in before he screamed out. I was pulling and pushing hard and fast. After a while, I couldn’t keep it off and started to cum into him while pulling and pushing. After I was done with cumming, his stomach was like a pineapple. Since my 15-inch was not soft still, I kept fucking him and cummed into him 3 more times. His stomach was first like a melon, then a beach ball, and last a huge watermelon. After I was done, I took his clothes from his locker and put on myself. The pants were like tights on me and I wasn’t even able to button up the shirt.

Before I left, I looked at the guy who was exhausted and lying on the bench with a huge stomach and said “Good luck with that stomach. And don’t forget: my rules works here.”

Take from:

Logan’s POV

“Your girlfiend sure is good at worshipping and massaging muscles. Seems like you trained her well. Well, not that you remember anymore, right my little fag slave?”, the man on the bench said in a sexy baritone, all the while having a top heavy brunette run her hands along his perfect muscular body. Though his voice made my little prick go rock hard within a few seconds, I had no idea what he was talking about. I’ve never had a girlfriend, after all as far as I knew this man had always been my master.

He was no other than Mason Banks, the uncrowned king of the local high school, top athlete of every sport team he participated in (Among others football, lacrosse, baseball and the track team ) and the hottest jock to have ever walked on earth. But for me he was the most perfect man in existence, from his diamond calves to his model face, the perfect mix of pretty boy charm and pure masculinity combined with a thoroughly styled mop of chestnut brown hair and a set of ocean blue eyes.

“Okay, let’s get to the main act, Rebecca.”, Master said, his eyes now on the woman, who had obviously just waited for this sentence the whole time. Within the blink of an eye she was stark nude, leaving her well formed body for my master to feed his eyes on. While he did so, both I and the girl got to witness the infamous bulge between his muscular thighs slowly rise, until it stood at it’s full 13 inch glory, though it was still concealed by his now stretched to the maximum sweatpants.

“So, Becca, either you undo my pants or my dick will.”, he said, the eager girl already pulling away the sweatpants. She gasped, as the monstrous dong finally sprang free from it’s fabricmade prison. “So, what are you waiting for?”, Master asked, as a powerful musky scent filled the room. Without further intoduction Rebecca went down on Master’s monster, but my experiened eyes saw the many mistakes she was making.

Her lips weren’t rolling over her teeth completely, making her teeth scrape Master’s cock, even if it was only a little bit and she tried to take the whole dick in her mouth at once and I knew she wouldn’t be a ble to keep this up for long, to point out two of her dozen mistakes.

Not that Master minded. He seemed to really enjoy the blowjob he was getting from this girl and moaned like it was his first one. But I knew, that it wasn’t. After all I woke him up like that every morning. Only once he interrupted his moaning and flashed a gleeful smile at me and whispered with a wink: “Maybe you shouldn’t have teased me, Mr. Quarterback.”

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Mason’s POV

‘Oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD, I can’t believe Rebecca Lawrence, the highschool’s hottest cheerleader slurping on my dick and the new, totally twinked star quarterback sitting next to me with a look of complete admiration in his eyes. Damn, she’s good at this.’ All these thoughts were running through my head, as Becca gave me my first blowjob. As she went down on my pole another time I remembered the curious circumstances,  which had lead to my currentsituation.

The day before I had found an old dusty bottle in the bushes on my way home. Since it had an interesting shape and a nice colour I decided to take it with me. At home I rubbed the bottle and much to my surprise a man appeared. With a bored tone he introduced himself as a genie and told me I had three wishes.

Being a bullied teen lots of things came to my mind, but then I thought about the genie. I supposed he had been trapped inside the bottle for ages having to fulfill wishes for others, but unable to live outside the bottle. And so I turned at the man and said: “I wish for you to be freed.”

At first he said nothing and just looked at me quite flabbergasted, but then he gave me a wide grin and whispered: “Your wish is my command.”

I don’t know what happened next but it seems like the genie kept his magic powers. And damn is he grateful. I only have to text Gene (That’ss his name now) and my wish comes true. Plus he’s a great guy, who enjoys seeing a formerly little geek slowly take over the school.

Getting in Shape

Finally Jack had gotten to join the gym. He had meant to do it for years, but never really couldn’t quite motivate himself. Though it would have been really necessary, judging his more than pudgy figure. At a height of roughly 5'9" Jack weighed more than 270 Pounds of fat. It had been years since Jack had seen his dick, though he knew it wasn’t anything Special either, being 4" Long when hard.

The long stairs up to the gym had gotten the college Student sweating and heavily breathing as he approached the reception desk.

It was a gym off the college campus in the small town he lived in. He always felt so shy and self-conscious that he didn’t want to risk being seen by classmates or anyone he knew. He could hear weights clanking as he got signed in, a blonde jock behind the counter was working the computer. Jack felt like he was being judge by the jock, but the receptionist passed him his gym card and sent him on his way with a smile. Jack sighed and headed towards the locker rooms to get changed.

As he entered he was immediately greeted by a familiar sight, the Body of his former high school’s top jock, Shaun. The black behemoth was as different from Jack as anyone could be. The years of football and gym had blown his muscles up into Fitness model size and they had grown even more since then. By now Shaun looked like he was about to step on stage at a pro Bodybuilding contest. As he turned around, Jack was greeted by another familiar sight, the glorious horse cock that had earned Shaun his nickname, “The Redwood”. Of Course it was because of his towering height too. As Shaun turned around and spotted Jack eyeing him up from the other sight of the room, a cruel smirk grew on his handsome face.

Shaun swaggered over to where Jack was standing. The shorter man obviously looking uncomfortable. “Well well. If it isn’t little Jack Dillard. Though, I guess you aren’t that little. Don’t you know this is a gym, not a buffet.” Jack was blushing hard. Thankfully the gym only had a few people in it at the moment and Jack prayed no one heard Shaun’s taunts. He thought he had escaped his tormentor once he graduated, but fate dealt him a cruel hand it seemed.

‘This was meant to be a new start for me.’, Jack thought and looked down on the Floor. He just couldn’t muster up the Courage to talk back to Shaun, he never could. “I see you haven’t changed one bit, faggot. That’s if I ignore the tons of fat you grew. Though you still are a pathetic Little faggot, who isn’t able to talk back.”, Shaun taunted him in his deep commanding voice. He pulled up his gym Shorts and put on a tanktop, extra slowly so Jack would watch and swaggered out of the room, throwing a last “Hope you don’t sweat on my weights.” at Jack.

Shaun’s footsteps echoed in the room as he left. Jack just stood in place, wringing his fat hands together. He felt humiliated, he wanted to go home right then. He clenched his fist, realizing he made a decision to get in better shape, and he wouldn’t let Shaun stop him. Well he could try and avoid Shaun at least. He peeled off his clothes and put on his xxl workout gear and headed to the treadmill, hoping Shaun didn’t like cardio.

As he left the room and passed the reception desk, the jock threw him and murmured to himself. It sounded it a bit like “Poor guy.” and “Collided with Shaun.”. Jack brushed it off and walked towards the treadmills. He climbed onto one and started with the easiest stage, seeing from afar how big the weights looked, that Shaun lifted. Frustrated he cycled, not even noticing the strange glow in the eyes of the receptionist jock.

Finally, Jack got too tired to continue and decided to call it a day. Even though his shirt was a quick-dry material, it was soaked with his sweat. He saw the blonde jock wave at him before he headed into the lockerroom. Jack sheepishly waved back and went to go shower. Thankfully it was stalls and not an open shower. Still, he picked one towards the back as he stripped and got his soap out.

As he began soaping his less than impressive Body he didn’t even notice, that the Soap wasn’t it’s normal lavender blue Color, but rather a bluish green with glitter all over it. He also didn’t notice that it left the same glitter all over his Body, or that it sank into his Skin. The firt Thing that seemed odd to him was that his arm had a strange Tension   to it when he used the Soap on his hair. He took his dear time Standing there under the shower, using the delightful Feeling Soap and enjoying the warm water cascading down his Body.

His arm jiggled as he scrubbed his black hair. However, it started to jiggle less and less as he scrubbed away.  The roundness from being fat gave way to the roundness of muscle. The peak of his bicep pressed into his ear and fatty shoulder. The soap seemed to have an odd scent to it. It was not like the normal clean smelling soaps he was used to. It had a more manly aroma, but he couldn’t place his finger on it.

Soon the biceps wasn’t pressing into a fat shoulder anymore, but Jack’s arm was rather pushed a Little back when his shoulders rounded and broadened, growing into some cannonball like structures. Just beneath his new muscular shoulders transformed his moobs. He felt them up as his saggy unsightly tits expanded and hardened, enjoying how the growing flesh felt under his grab. He wasn’t even bothered by the feeling. It felt like that was the way it was supposed to be.

Two large pecs now adorned his chest where his moobs used to be. One of his fingers grazed a nipple and he let out a soft moan. His meager 4" cock pressed against his waning belly fat. He heard someone’s footsteps enter the shower and he hoped he didn’t hear him moan. Another shower squeaked on so Jack wanted to finish, but he didn’t feel clean enough yet. He started soaping up his body, paying extra attention to his pecs.

But before that he wanted to clean his whole Body. He let the Soap slide down his belly and rubbed it, Feeling it grow harder, but at the same time it felt like the gut was sinking back into his Body. He continued rubbing his belly until he no longer felt the soft pudginess of a paunch, but rather the hard bumps of what felt like a strong, firm, cut eightpack. Meanwhile the Person in the other shower stall had started moaning too, though it was a lot more high pitched.

Jack’s hand wrapped around his small cock, completely enclosing it in his palm, and gave it a tug. He moaned, sounding a little hoarse, but also finding that he didn’t care if someone heard him. His other hand traced along the ridges of his abs and Apollo’s belt. Both hands left the front of his body to rub his ass. What once was a flabby sac of fat now was a perky bubble butt that still had some fat, but was mostly muscle. He gave them a grope, liking how strong his hands felt on his ass.

As the water cascaded down his Body, the Magic Soap reached his legs. While Jack slowly rubbed along the unimpressive length of his dick with strong, big Hand, his legs jiggled and tensed, jiggled and tensed. The whole process repeated itself, until Jack was left with a pair of strong, brawny legs. They looked like two sinewy oak trees, built from years of Training. The water finally reached his feet, growing them, just like the rest of his Body. When they were finished, Jack’s feet looked like a hobbit’s, just without the hair. They were a solid size 20 and made a perfect base for his impressive 6'9" Body.

Jack could over the stalls just by standing. His hand still tugged at his cock, it growing with every pull. He could see only one other shower was on and tugged harder, moaning a little deeper. A higher pitched moan seemed to echo in response. Jack smirked cockily for once in his life. He turned off his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, his cock sticking out from it. His feet slapped against the wet tiles as he made his way to the other shower. Keeping that cocky smirk, he pulled at the curtain.

In it was a small, almost feminine black Boy, looking no older than 18. He turned around in shock and revealed that he had been rubbing an unimpressive pencil thin 3 incher. Jack looked past his impressive built pecs and into the face of the Boy. Though he had a far less angular face and lacked the stubble and rough handsomeness, this face clearly was Shaun’s. With a look of lust and admiration the lithe Boy looked up into Jack’s handsome visage and dropped to his knees.

Jack’s smirk only widened as the slapped Shaun’s cheeks with  his 11" cock. The cocky smirk looked natural on Jack’s angular face. It wasn’t rough like Shaun’s was, but more model-like. A look of pleasure passed over those gorgeous features once Shaun took Jack’s cock into his mouth and began sucking like a pro.

Shaun licked along the whole length of the Long shaft, fondling Jack’s cum-heavy bull nuts with his delicate Hands, only having Jack moan even louder. The new hunk forced Shaun’s boyish face further down his dick with a dinner plate sized Hand. Jack knew full well that Shaun probably had never sucked a cock before, but his throat was seemingly bottomless. Shaun was so skilled that it didn’t take Jack Long to shoot his first load, though it wouldn’t be his last.

Ethan had been my boyfriend for years, and it seemed as if I were locked in with him, even going as so far as to make life plans. We communicated and understood what each other wanted out of a relationship, we truly meshed. We had been friends since childhood, and when I came out to him, he did as well, and that was history. He would grow to become your classic student-athlete, playing every sport he could, and having tons of extracurriculars. I did band and orchestra, and adored science.

As we got to senior year of high school, I noticed something weird. Ethan would focus on the gym more and more, and he would comment on how "small" he was, comparing himself to everyone else. No matter how much I would reassure him, he always felt small, comparing himself to the biggest in the gym, who were usually grown men. My protests fell on deaf ears, however, and he became hell-bent on becoming bigger.

When we got into freshman year of college, he would be at his worst when it came to his perception of his body, and that came because of his new frat president, Jaime. He joined Greek life as he felt it was a way to build bonds. The president was the biggest guy in the frat, and would constantly show his dominance over Ethan, calling him a "bitchboy" and "Little Red." I tried to keep his mood up, but it was clear he was at a low.

We were set to go to a Christmas party held by his frat, and as I get dolled up, he comes to pick me up, feeling good and generally optimistic. When we get to the party, the pledges at the gate eye me up, and I glare at them back. As the night goes on, I feel the need to stave off sobriety, so I decided to go to get a white claw from the bar. The frat guy running the bar hands me a drink and points to my left, I immediately notice the president himself walking up to me, and telling me to "come upstairs."

The walk up two flights of stairs was definitely difficult, but as we make it up, I notice a couple of the other brothers and Ethan. The president takes off his shirt and looks over at Ethan. "We don't do hazing, but just know I can always take your bitch!" As he says this, he pulls my head down to his boxers and pulls them down, beckoning me to suck his cock. As I look at Ethan pleadingly, he stares straight at the president, with a look that could kill him dead. I was ashamed after that night, but Ethan continued to reassure me, and said, "It's just how the frat rolls."

I soon became responsible for building his diet, and because I was planning on becoming an Exercise Science major, he would jokingly call himself my "guinea pig" as I would test diets and exercise methods on him. He got bigger fast, almost too fast. He started lifting more and became obsessed with his body, we barely even talked as he would spend most of his days in the gym.

We got our own apartment off-campus, and I would still try to cook for him, and he would show his appreciation by fucking my brains out. Things were still great, though, and even as he spent most of his days in the gym, he would still make time for me.

Next year, he would become frat president, and Jaime would seemingly disappear, as he would stay a regular member. Ethan was the ultimate jock now, and he would use me whenever he wanted, calling me his "good boy."

One morning, I saw a new story post from Ethan's account. The guy in the background looks familiar, and as I search for his account, I realize it was the same guy at the party. I swipe up and ask, "Who's the guy taking ur pictures?" Ethan tells me, "I have this bitchboy taking my pictures just to be near my alpha pheromones." A realization hits me as I look closer at the photos, the guy taking the photos was none other than Jaime. Now, the guy who once towered over Ethan was taking his photos.

When I get back to our apartment that night, I see no other than Ethan in the living room, and he tells me to sit down. He explains that the sudden growth he achieved was because he took muscle from the president. As his alpha pheromones strengthened, he took more and more muscle from the frat members, until he became the biggest. Little Red was now Big Red, the most dominant guy in the frat, and the main jock of the school.

Now, he had beckoned me to his feet. I was to worship him now. He would lean back casually into the couch as I sucked on his cock slowly. Climbing up onto his cock filled me with joy, and as I bounce up and down on it, I would moan into the air, even as he would take his massive hands to block my mouth from moaning. He was laser-focused on fucking me, grunting, and pushing my body on his cock. His alpha pheromones flood my body, and I get even wetter.

He took pride in dominating me, and it felt as if he was letting out his rage at Jaime on me. I knew he wasn't really mad at me, but he certainly fucked like he was. His cock filled my whole completely, and he had to stuff it in as it was so massive. Cum filled my hole as he slammed my ass against his cock with his arms, and his dick would throb in my ass, getting cum deep in me.

I rolled over to the other side, and he hugs against me with just his boxers on. As I try to settle to sleep after he ravaged my hole, I feel a hard throb against my ass. Soon, his cock is peeking through his boxers, and by the time I look back, he's staring at me with hungry eyes, and I get wet once more. Looking at him, I can tell he's in a full rut, and he won't stop until he cums as much as it takes.

His cock slides in and out of me, and my body buckles against it. He puts my body into a full bear hug and rams his cock in and out of me. His hands go over my mouth once again, suppressing my moans. We fuck until cum is all over my body, and I lay near him, as he has finally ravaged me completely.

"Whoa broski! WTF r u doin bro?!" The deep voice of one of the jocks echoed in the hallway.

"BROCK ANDERSON! You shut your mouth and move out the way, NOW!" Colin Foster, head of the English club of the neighboring college, shouted back. He had just come back from a tiring activity about writing some kind of novel, when he had the misfortune of bumping right into Brock Anderson: apparently the school's most feared and revered football players, hanging out with his small group of friends. He was just trying to visit an old friend of his, a fellow English teacher just a few floors up.

"Huhuh, sorry duude..." Brock responded, his deep bass voice resonating in Colin's ears. This irritated Colin more, as in the moment he felt as though he was being disrespected. They didn't even call him sir for crying out loud, he though to himself, as he felt his fury rise. "You absolute DIMWITS! I am at my wits end trying to just get through the day and burly asses decided to just block my way JUST TO TALK?!" Colin hurled more and more insults. He didn't even know why he was this angry at something so insignificant, but the day's stresses got the better of him.

Pushing his way through the jocks, he was about to walk the other direction when Brock shouted. "HEY! You do not get to talk about us like that!" he spoke loudly and firmly, pointing his fingers in Colin's direction. Brock's friends stayed quiet behind him, the one beside him mockingly scrunching his "angry" face. Colin was taken aback by Brock's sudden proficiency in English, but he simply tutted, turned around, and walked briskly away from the jocks. Brock placed his hands down, and calmly walked away from his friends, opening his phone and dialing some number he found on the net. "I'd like to purchase one of your little games..."

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Night came, as Colin begrudgingly sat on his desk chair and turned on his laptop. It was time to grade yet another set of papers made by some of his students. It was nearing midnight when he finally yawned, placing his hands on his tired face. "God I'm turning 45 just round the corner...." he mumbled to himself. He thought back to the incident that happened earlier that day, and closed his eyes. He knew shouldn't have been that angry, and yet he still hated them. His type, the damn jocks. "Dumb lumbering pieces of meat", he thought to himself.

Just then, a notification popped up. Opening it, he saw something which made his stomach drop.

"...Brock?" He mumbled to himself. Rolling his eyes at the horrible typography and spelling, he begrudgingly nodded understandingly. Looking at the bottom, he saw a link to this "present". "Jockify. Some kinda' new workout app maybe? Could use a few of those." Colin chuckled to himself. He was known to be quite skinny. Clicking it, a file downloaded on his computer. After unzipping it, he clicked on the app and it began loading. As it did, something caught his eye. The appearance of the pop-up seemed...old. REALLY old. Windows XP old. "Jesus, is this a virus..." he groaned, tapping his fingers on his desk. Finally, the pop-up loaded.

Colin gasped in shock as he flung himself backwards to his chair's backrest. First, what the hell was this "bro'd" thing and why the fuck did Brock send this. Second, this did NOT look like a typical Windows XP pop-up, or really any pop-up for that matter. Everything seemed wrong, and Colin sighed exhaustedly. "Goddammit Brock." he mumbled angrily. But as his cursor went over to close it, the cursor went haywire. Try as he might, he couldn't close the pop-up. He even tried the last resort, turning the laptop off and then on again. The pop-up was still there. He wanted to put this off for tomorrow, but he still had some papers left to go over. Slapping himself across the face, he pushed forward and clicked the underlined link below.

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*click*

When it appeared, Colin immediately tried to close it. But he felt something tingling on his legs, arms, hands, neck-- it was everywhere. He immediately tried to scratch these parts, when the tingling turned into pain. His legs ballooned with lean muscle as he felt his pants shift. As the pants suddenly shredded themselves he felt his bulge vibrate and pulsate as his cock erupted forth from his groin. The pain sent Colin stand up immediately and went limping to the bathroom as he surveyed it. Standing fully erect and having grazed a table leg so hard it sent waves of orgasmic pleasure down his whole body, Colin looked down.

(Colin's cock)

"J-jesus fuck..." Colin whispered in overwhelming pleasure as his cock stood tall. Placing his hand next to it, he figured it was maybe a full 10 inches long. But the changes were only beginning. As he tried to limp back with his cock swinging between his legs, he fell onto the ground as more and more muscle rippled through his body. He felt his spine elongate and stretch, as did his bones, tendons, and everything in between. With a few ghastly pops and cracks, he groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure, grasping his cock with one hand trying to contain himself. As his clothes shredded themselves, they seemed to have disappeared into thin air entirely. Colin was scared. And overwhelmingly horny.

(Colin's body)

After a few pained breaths, he slowly stood up, now a towering giant of 6 foot 10 inches. He walked over slowly back to the laptop, huffing carefully as he grasped his cock, which was now a full 12-inch long hunk of meat. "...g-gOD..." Colin mumbled, clutching at his throat in surprise at the deeper voice he now had. He wanted this nightmare to end, and desperately tried to close the pop-up. But instead, the cursor moved itself towards the link.

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*click*

"SHIT! Oh god...p-please, no moOO-" Colin was barely able to complete his pleas of mercy when his feet burst through his socks. The pain was more tolerable this time, as he clenched his jaws the entire time his feet grew larger. What was then a US size 14 had grown into hunks of size 21 meat. "Meat. Meat. Meat.", the word swirled around in Colin's head, staring at his feet while laying down, still naked, on the floor. Pushed on by the caption in the pop-up, he slowly placed his nose near his feet and took a sniff. They smelled like old socks, much to his chagrin. At least it didn't smell that bad.

Taking a few deep breaths, he went back to the laptop and placed his hands on the mouse. If Brock wanted to play dirty, he would at least try to not go down without a fight. He wanted to see what was at the end of this stupid "game".

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*click*

As the pop-up appeared, a foul stench suddenly greeted his nose. Looking down, he saw that over his naked muscled bod were some new clothes. They all stunk. Keeling his head over to his armpits, he felt the warm sweat greet his face, as the stench of....manliness...pierced his nostrils. "...manliness?" Colin grumbled to hismelf. Why the hell did he describe it like that? Then he turned to his feet, new socks draped over them. Carefully removing the socks revealed the insides to be horrendously stained brown with what seemed to be weeks worth of sweat and dirt. Tossing them aside in the pile, he was about to take a whiff when it hit him. "Pile?" No, he was better than that. He always placed his socks in the washing machine but...there was a pile. He had a pile. And somehow, he knew there was a pile. A pile of dirtied, smelly socks.

He looked back at his feet and took a long whiff.

The putrid smell knocked him out, as he fell back on the floor with his head spinning. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click* As he woke up, he found himself sitting in front of the laptop, his hands already placed atop the mouse. He had clicked without knowing it. Colin looked around himself, as he noticed he was no longer in his shoddy apartment. He was now in some dingy room, the walls covered with posters of men, medals, awards, trophies, and the floor covered with piles of dirty unwashed clothing. His chair had turned into some dirty couch, as the desk had turned into a coffee table. His nose wrinkled at the horrible smell that was now everywhere. He closed his eyes in mild panic. "I-It's a'ight Colin. J-just get to the e-end."

After a few breaths, he opened them.

Colin's face warped into that of horror. "D-Dumb?!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he suddenly felt a crushing headache as he leaned forward, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Slowly, the rest of hid body tightened up, as his age went down, stopping to reveal he had now regressed back into a 25-year old stud. Slowly but surely, his neurons began to either disintegrate or reorganize. All of that sophisticated schooling slowly slipped away, as he also began to lose memories he had even gone to them to begin with. With the loss of his intelligence, drool began to pool in his mouth, before seeping out in a small fine stream of saliva. What was once a proud IQ of 120 was struck down to a mind-numbing 50. Just enough to let him follow simple instructions and live comfortably. "...huhuh bro.....s-stop b-brooo...." he groaned, chuckling mindlessly at himself as he placed his sweaty feet on the desk with a loud thump as he stretched his legs. But inside, there was still a piece of him that wanted to fight back. Memories that he used to be a greater, smarter person. Someone who had the brains to deal with all kinds of bullshit. He wanted to turn back into that person.

Colin moved on, clicking the pop-up again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

"...th-the End....b-broOOo?" Colin mumbled in a jock-like inflection. Inside, he panicked. He still remembered he used to have the ability to read this without difficulty, but as he started to read the pop-up he found himself struggling to piece together what the alphabet even meant to sound like. "I.....w-wAnna g-gO.....b-back broOo...." Colin mumbled desperately. Even though he was in a new world of bliss, he wanted to turn back. He had learned his les--.wait...lesson for doing what again?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

Colin stared dumbfounded at the equation. A simple equation. He remembered it was simple, but he somehow couldn't find the answer. The text on screen was almost illegible, as his brain filled in the gaps with a few words he knew.

Colin leaned forward in fear. "...bro....I d-don't...k-knOw.....huhu...f-fUck dude...i d-dOn't wAnna b-be a BRO....like...BRO....". Wracking his mind for any semblance of even a number to place, he gave up. The pain of trying to think was too much, as the last bits of his intelligence seeped out from his mouth...and cock.

He typed nonsense. It was all he knew.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

"huhu...f-fuUUCK BRO" Colin winced at the screen. There was Brock's face, proudly showing a middle finger. His body convulsed with pleasure as more cum slowly but surely seeped down into his shorts. And now he was at the end. With nowhere else to turn, Colin clicked the pop-up as it closed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

Immediately, his mind went blank. Colin...who the fuck was Colin again? Cum continued flowing out his throbbing cock, as another dull feeling washed over his brain. C... Co... Col... Colt... Colt shook his head as he looked down at the laptop. There on the screen was Brock's face, plastered with the words "FUK U DUDE".

"huhuh...b-brock dude...wanna s-smell m-my...f-feet bro..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was now two years later, and a lot has changed for the two jocks. For one, Brock had finally passed his third year of college after many many attempts at the exam. Knocking at the door of his new apartment, Brock opened the door.

"Guess what bro...I got an A+!" Brock flexed in Colt's face, cockily chuckling to himself as the he went back to his room.

Colt could only mumble incoherently, slouching his hulking body over as his eyes went everywhere but Brock. Brock smiled. After finding Colt in his dingy room following the conversion, he managed to sneak him into the school, becoming his own personal pet jock. After crafting elaborate fake emails saying "Colin" had quit his job and moved to Canada, "Colin" slowly faded from the public's memory.

After moving out from the school dorms, he found a new apartment nearby and rented a large enough room. With Colt in tow, he now had time to let him roam out to the different gyms across town whenever he was in class or out working. This had the added perk of keeping him both docile and bulking him up a little more. He had the mind of an animal now anyways, and he knew exactly when and where to find his coach when the time comes.

As Colt sat down on what was now a small couch to him and grabbing a bottle of beer, Brock slapped him across the face, making Colt grunt and drool all over himself.

"That's right dumbass. I'm on top now. No one even knows who you are anymore." Brock said, stuffing Colt's mouth with his fingers, puppeteering his head side to side before taking them out. Colt only chuckled as he placed the bottle back in his mouth. "...t-top...b-brooo...huhuhuh..."

"And who's a good dumb jock bro now hmm?"

Peter Cane is not a standout member of the society. He mostly lurked in the background of everyday's lives, enjoying a quite life as UI/UX designer in a tech startup.

The whole shitshow of 2020 caused him social isolation as his work turned remote, but at least he could drop the pretense to be a goody two shoes in front of the very public eye of his workmate.

People would never think of Peter Cane as someone who involved himself in some form of online fetish community. Well, people might believe it or thought about it, after all, who doesn't have fetish or kink of their own, but the role that Peter played certainly would never cross their mind judging from Peter's appearance. His pale and lanky stature, coupled with bad eyesight and not necessarily the most gorgeous face, no one would think of him as a Master, but that's how he's been regarded in his little kingdom of submissive followers. Despite all the physical limitation, Peter actually owned a very sensual and deep voice and he's been milking that to his benefit as none of his followers ever seen his face or all his body. Instead, his obedient legion of followers all worshipped him for his voice as they jacked their dick off and send him thousands of dollars for degrading audio where Peter talked shit about his followers, customized for the highest payers and a weekly general content accessible for all. A very good looking prosthetic, veiny, uncut 9 inchers dick helped him fooled his demanding highest payer subs who sometimes asked a little too much. But aside from his voice, that prosthetic dick and none-the-wiser younger brother feet pic (the 19 year old sophomore has a size 14 feet), he shared nothing else to his followers and he still retained that crazy amount of subs in his little findom bubble. Yet, in the deepest corner of his mind, he hated the fact that he didn't have the guts to show his whole phsyique while at the same breath, scouring over his subs profile and be in the receiving end of his subs slutty pics, he felt a sense of jealousy and disgust as some of these men looked way above his league and so hot, yet so submissive

"They don't deserve to look like that. Why the fuck I'm not the one looking like this blonde bimbo or that muscle bear?"

He murmured, which then he unleashed on some private forum, calling out the injustice and revealed how some of the most physically gorgeous men turned out to be nothing but an insecure shipwreck that could be manipulated behind closed doors.

And the Man In Black took notice of it

So, right after 2020's 4th of July weekend, a knock to his front door surprised Peter who didn't expect any guest for the day, or ever, to be clear. But he answered the door anyway and the 3 guys in black suit with black glasses started to introduce themselves. It didn't take long for Peter to be convinced that it was his calling, his destiny for greatness and to really end the injustice. So, without much thought, he grabbed his wallet and leave his apartment to head to the Men in Black facility.

In the facility, he is surprised to see so many people in one huge warehouse-like space ground floor, their feet locked to the ground and they were shouting and crying while guards with guns surrounded them from the second level. All of the men, even from above, looked god-like in comparison to him, but Peter knew he's in the advantage here and he's way better than any of them. So he descended from the second level and checked each of the men one by one. He went from one row to the other, taking close examination of all of them before captivated by the brooding young man with hairy chest for all the world to see. His gaze was intense and Peter felt like he's been judged and challenged by the brooding hairy muscle brute.

Peter is 5'11 while the guy is easily 6'4 so it was quite a comical scene when Peter tried to intimidate the guy by staring directly to his eyes. Seeing that his target shown a hint of panic, Peter smirked as he pricked his finger and smeared the blood rightaway in the medallion. The look of desperation appeared on the brute's face but seconds later, he moaned as Peter grabbed his balls and squeezed the masculinity out of him.

Muscles flowed from the brute's body to fill Peter's lanky form. His jeans turned tight as the brute's quads and thighs transferred to fill his while sprouts of hair also prickled all over his legs, turning it to become a rather thick forest of hair. His feet grew 2 size to became size 13 and bursted out from his worn shoes. Then, the change travelled upwards as his dick gained extra girth and its skin regrew to cover the now-huge mushroom head of his 7 incher. His nuts gained an extra diameter as the amount of testosterone rushed all over his body increased twofold. Peter instantly pawed that upgrade with both of his hand that also started to transform into huge hairy mitt while at the same breath, cobblestone abs formed to replace the slight belly he developed from his lack of exercise throughout 2020. The man boobs he owned with its pinkish nipple turned firm and wider while the nipple turned darker.

Sprout of hair appeared on his chest and armpit to follow up with the lower part of his body and at last, his posture straighthened after he arched his back due to the bone cracking to accommodate the increasing height. His arm and shoulder developed into a wide network of muscle, veins and joint from its previously hunched and bony form.

Not long after that, Peter is now looking down at the drained muscle brute. His hair black and matted, drenched with sweat, while his eyes shown expression of fear as Peter looked down on him at that moment. Peter's facial feature already turned to accommodate the beauty that came from the muscle brute and he looked like an enhanced version of himself, with an angularity and symmetry courtesy of the brute's face. Peter smirked once more and then pat the now 5'6 twink face

"Good boy. Open up your mouth so I can give you my thank you,"

And with that, Peter spat on the twink's mouth and let out a loud laughter that echoed throughout the warehouse.

He strut confidently while butt-naked as he head into another room for debrief, where he received the instruction similar to the other men noticed by Men in Black

Ever since that day, Peter started a totally new era as he upgraded his domination into new territory.

The revelation that the voice behind Master Pete turned out to be one heck of a hot stud garnered massive rave review from not only his loyal subs, but to people that previously didn't know him. His content now expanded into video where he always gladly revealed himself. The audio command turned into a much arousing video where he would just easily flex his muscle and shown the subs his hairy pits or chest and told them to lick it.

The peak entertainment of the day for him were the videos sent by his subs showing themselves licking their screen or basically doing all sort of command he said in his video

Not stopping there, guest stars also appeared to accompany him, from his highest paying subs to some random bimbo he fucked live in his streaming session for all the world to see

His audience reach increased by tenfold and mixed in his daily audio and video of command and humiliation for his subs, slipped some subliminal message to affect the subs voting habit, just like what Men in Black wanted from him. All his co-worker and basically everyone he has interaction with also became his test subject as none of them ever aware of Peter looking any differently and all gladly looking up on Peter as if he's some sort of authority with the right idea and right mindset which should be followed.

And even if the presidential election didn't go his way, he still continued his findom activities, with much less intensity of course because there's no more order or contact from the handler about his objective. As he click "Post" to update his followers with the usual fitness caption that accompanied a picture of him flexing in his tanktop while inside his car, a black SUV that resembled the one he got into back during the life-changing day appeared in his rearview mirror man, but a man dressed in white walks out from there instead

Thank you for everyone who voted in the poll! Here is the one you voted for and I will work on Risk it all episode 2 next. I hope you all enjoy.

The Trickster grinned as he floated invisibly around the pool, a holiday resort was always rich in insecurity, jealousy and regret. A perfect place to grant wishes and make mischief. The Trickster then saw him, Myles standing and flexing as women giggled and swooned behind him, the tall, handsome man was bulging with muscles, his pecs like swollen balloons and biceps like boulders. He was smiling but there was also exhaustion behind his expression as sweat dripped down him, many would have mistaken him as someone how had recently got out of the pool but instead he found the heat difficult to cope with. His body would overcompensate and drench him in sweat and still that did little to cool him down. The Trickster grinned as he felt a wish brewing but his green demon eyes then spotted someone else. There was Ahmed dangling his feet in the pool, his eyes drifting to Myles and then looking away painfully. The obese, hairy Arabic man had managed to escape his family for 10 minutes of peace only for him to feel self-conscious and inadequate as Myles flexed near him. Ahmed squirmed as he tried to hide his flabby body from the people behind him and the flexing jock as a wish appeared in his head.

It always baffles me when someone thinks they can lick on another solely based on their looks and what society deems to be attractive or worthy. Well not anymore, well, not for you at least. You wanted a change in dynamic between you and your bully, I’ve got you covered. But I must warn you that change doesn’t happen overnight... or maybe in this case it does.

Today had been tough, that jerk Chris had been taunting you whenever he could. He’d point out that you were chubby, call you names like Piggy and Porker. He’d even go as far to make snorting sounds when he saw you eating lunch. “You’ll never have muscles like these fatass! Can barely roll out of bed never mind hit the gym! *snort snort*” Chris was a grade A dick to you. He was taller and would often look down on you. His words echoed around your head as you got ready for bed. Looking in the mirror you felt his words echoing relentlessly. You wished he’d know what it was like being chubby. Having to buy new clothes so your underbelly doesn’t poke out. Not being able to wear tight shirts. Or even just the odd rude comments.

Getting into bed you kept imagining Chris in your head. His sculpted body. Bulging biceps. Handsome face. Awful attitude. But also his huge package he would always let freeball in his shorts. His 6”2 frame towered above your 5”6 body.

Half way through the night, you felt a sudden shiver run across your entire body. It was like a cold hand was stroking down your spine. You sat up alarmed and switched on the lamp. There was no one there, just a dimly lit bedroom. Yet, something still seemed off. You noticed a lack of pressure in your lap and looked down. Where you’d have once seen your belly jutting forward into your lap was now a smooth stomach. Jumping out of bed, you b-lined straight for the mirror. Gone was your belly. And love handles. And back rolls. And moobs. You were slim. This was probably the slimmest you’d ever been! You twisted and turned trying to get a better look at yourself. Your feet, which were once obscured, were now completely visible.

What the hell had happened? Then, just like before, a shiver ran down your spine again. This time, it was followed by a vibrating feeling in each of your muscles. You could feel your thighs and calves starting to expand and stretch. It was slightly uncomfortable, almost like you’d been on a run. You watched as they thickened and the grooves of muscle became apparent. Your shorts were feeling smaller and smaller around the legs until they felt smaller everywhere else. It felt like a pop as your ass began to expand outwards with muscle and a healthy layer of fat to make it a bubble butt. Soft to the touch and with a lot of bounce. It was perfectly sculpted. The same happened to your cock as it began to extend. It felt like an erection but it was still flaccid. It pushed out the front of your shorts until you started hearing fabric tearing. The seams were pulling apart.

The growth on your lower half started to slow down. Your legs stopped expanding, ass stoped ballooning, and cock reached a length of 8 inches with significant girth (flaccid)! Then your upper half started experiencing changes. Your stomach was flexing and moving as body fat melted away leaving you lean. Abs appeared slowly as they started to push out. Your pecs began to follow in the steps of your ass as they bulged outwards. Your nipples became erect and sensitive as your pecs became two thick slabs of muscle which were just as bouncy as your ass. They obscured your view of your lower half but you weren’t too bothered to say the least. You were cupping them with your hands and running your fingers over your abs. Muscle started looking into your arms as they inflated. Soon they were big enough to make any shirt difficult to put on without ripping the sleeves. You’d have to invest in more sleeveless shirts or opt to go shirtless from now on. Something you hadn’t done in years.

A cracking sound ran through your spine as your height began to shoot up. Where there was once a 5”6 chubby guy was now a 6”5 muscular Greek god! Your feet followed suit as they grew out to accommodate your new height and weight, stretching from size 7s to an impressive size 15. It might be a lot more difficult to find shoes your size now.

That morning was one of the best you’d had in years. Sure you had to buy new clothes and order new shoes, so for now you’d be bare foot, but you felt amazing. You strode around with pride as you felt huge. People would stare as you passed in amazement. You couldn’t wait to sleep around a bit, something you’d never done before. Things were looking amazing for you! *Ping* You felt your phone go off in your pocket and saw a text from an unknown number. It read, “Please come back, your piggy is hungry 🐽!” At first you were confused but new memories quickly filled in the blanks. It was Chris. Or as he was no known, Chubs.

As you entered his apartment, you could smell sweat and pizza. The hallway was littered with pizza boxes and empty candy wrappers. It was a mess. You made your way through all of the junk towards a room with the door slightly ajar. You could hear moaning, burping, and the occasional wet, sloppy fart. Squeezing your huge build inside, you could finally see what had become of Chris.

See that night, you weren’t the only one to change. You wanted to switch up the dynamic, well your bully certainly got the short straw. Literally. As he slept his apartment changed around him. It became littered with evidence of long sessions of binge eating, dirty plates stacked into every corner. Chris tossed and turned in bed as his height shrank from 6”2 to a measly 5”2. His cock followed suit as his once impressive package shrivelled away and became nothing but a useless nub and a tiny sack of balls which enveloped it. Chris’ tossing and turning became more difficult as a weight in his stomach started pinning him in place. It looked like his stomach was starting to bloat except it didn’t look hard, it was soft. Soft with growing fat. As it expanded all signs of abs were erased. It bulged up and outwards as his belly button became deeper and wider. His pecs began to soften as they started dropping at the sides as he was laying down. Pudge started enveloping across his arms and legs as their strength depleted. As his belly wobbled as it pushed outwards, Chris absentmindedly placed a hand on his growing gut and squeezed and shook it. The wobbling of fat was comforting to him as he stayed asleep throughout.

Now here you were, looking down at a fat 350lbs tub of lard. His jawline was lost in a thick double chin and a scruffy beard as shaving became too tiring for the slobbish Chris. His cheeks were doughy much like the rest of his body. He was definitely obese! There was no way around it, or him for that matter. His laptop was sat atop his belly like it was a table. He couldn’t find his phone as it was wedged under his overhang so had to message you on his Mac. Although a pig, his face was so cute to you as he looked at you with pleading eyes. He was yours. Your very own pig to stuff at both ends. You’d definitely need the muscles for when you flip over that bubbling, farting swine.

Memories filled your head of digging your hands into his soft pudge as your cock penetrated his fat ass. Without you, he wouldn’t make it very far. The man who once tormented you relentlessly would now always rely on you. So, are you ready to stuff this little porker?

Trevor hated this time of year. Whenever it rolled around he’d find excuses to avoid social media. Father’s Day. When Trevor was born his father abandoned him for some bimbo in Miami, apparently. He wasn’t too sure but he’d never met his Dad. So whenever the day rolled around he’d always feel he was missing a key aspect of his life.

Trevor had just woken up to see several posts on his timeline, his friends posing father’s day photos with their dad’s. He felt sick. He shouldn’t be jealous but he couldn’t help it. That when two of his friends opened a group chat with him. Chris and Dale had been Trevor’s buddies since kindergarten and knew this was a difficult day for him. So they decided to take Trevor out for the day to cheer him up. “We’ll be at yours in 5!” Chris put in the group chat. A little while later he came to the door.

The hugged and quickly went inside to grab some water and snacks before heading out. But before Chris told Trevor where they’d be going they had to pick up Dale. He was fresh out the gym so made the car smell like a bit of a locker room. But they didn’t mind. Dale was the jock of his group. Always challenging everyone to arm wrestles or push up contests where as Chris would rather smoke weed and chill.

Now the three were together they headed off. Once Chris parked the car, Trevor was confused. They were at some forest. Why were they just going to go to the middle of the woods. He asked why they were there but was only met with a quick, “you’ll find out soon.” They we’re walking for what felt like hours until they stopped. Trevor still had no clue what to think until he saw it, in the middle of an open field. A well. “Bro we found it!” Dale was extremely excited by the ancient looking contraption and started sprinting towards it. After Dale started running, so did Chris and Trevor. Trevor had no clue why they’d be so excited over an old crummy well. Once there, the three of then leant over and looked down into the dark cavern. Chris picked up a stick and dropped it in. None of them heard it land. “So what’re you gonna wish for?”

Trevor thought he was too old to be wishing in wells. For god sake he was in collage not kindergarten! “Is this really why the two do you brought me here? For a wishing well?” Trevors disappointment was very clear to his friends, but their enthusiasm never flickered. “Come on, we wanted you to try it, we found it the other day,” Chris said enthusiastically, “we were joking around and I threw a coin in and wished for a new jordans and boom!” He made an over the top explosion sound as he gestured to the new trainers on his feet. Now Trevor was interested. Chris barely had enough money to get lunch, never mind get new jordans. “Then when we found out it was legit I tried it! I wished I could lift more at the gym and now I keep topping my personal best!” Dale said equally excited. Trevor took in a deep breath and looked down into the deep, dark well. He fished into his pocket and pulled out a coin. He closed his eyes and whispered, “I wish Father’s Day would be great for me every year.” He flicked the coin into the well and watched it descend into the void. He looked around at his friends, waiting for something to happen. But nothing. Maybe they were just lying, but their faces looked like they were anticipating something. Then everything went black.

Chris shot upright. He was on a cool, wooden floor in some apartment he’d never seen before. How the hell did he get here. He hadn’t made a wish, Trevor had! He noticed Dale was lying next to him, passed out on the floor. But Trevor was nowhere to be seen. As he got to his feel he felt heavier almost. He looked down to see a lump in the front of his shirt. It bulged outwards and was round. He gave his stomach a poke and felt it jiggle. Wait what?! He pulled up his shirt to see a soft flabby belly.

He wasn’t fat! Sure he wasn’t as muscular as Dale or as toned as Trevor but he wasn’t fat! What the hell was going on? His belly looked like it was overflowing as it drooped over his waistband. His trousers were ugly as they clung to his waist. As he shook his soft flab, he failed to notice the rest of his body changing. Hair started creeping over his pecs and down his forearms. Thick, dense forests of hair. It continued down his back and up his legs. He only noticed once it started flowing down his bouncing belly. The soft fat started to feel harder underneath. Although his sizeable pouch wasn’t shifting, muscle was starting to form under his chub. His arms and legs thickened as his pecs ballooned out. He neck broadened as a beard settled across his face. Chris was in shock. But what caught him by surprise was when he felt a hand come down over his pecs. “Hey Mr, have you seen the boy yet?” Chris turned around to see Dale, only now he was, older? He had packed on muscle much like Chris only with less cushioning and looked as though he was in his late 30s/early 40s as small specks of grey were nestled into his now rug like body hair. Only once Chris faced him he realised felt at peace. Dale was his husband, they’d been married since they met each other in a gay club in their early 20s. Although now they were older men, settled down and they had a family… of sorts. Crows feet and lines etched themselves onto Chris’ face as he joined Dale in age. The two shared an intimate kiss as Chris whispered into Dale’s ear, his beard brushing against his neck, “why don’t we go back to bed for a bit, then we’ll wake go wake him up?”

Trevor shook awake. Where was he? He was in a room he’d never seen before. It was a small single bed, some shelves and plants. It was nothing like his room back at home. Wait, home. This was his home wasn’t it? Trevor’s brain felt muddled as he collected his thoughts. He was slumped against a wall and held his head in his hands and he tried to remember what was going on. He’d made a wish, but what wish. And how did that send him home. He wasn’t home already was he? He was out with his buddies Chris and Dale. No wait, they weren’t his friends, they were his Daddies. Trevor looked down his body to see only a pair of thin white shorts and sun kissed skin. His body looked more tanned than ever. And his abs, and pecs. They looked so defined. And his cock looked so big pressed against his shorts. Was he even wearing underwear?

He got up and stumbled over to a mirror. What the hell happened to his face? Why did he look so boyish, so cute, so twinky? He looked like any top’s wet dream. A cute face, sculpted frame, cute haircut, plump natural lips and eyes that screamed fuck me. He also noticed he was a few inches shorter and his ass felt bigger, almost perkier. He stood looking at himself in the mirror but soon found himself flexing as he admired himself. He was hot shit.

Trevor leant into the mirror to see his smooth, spotless skin. No marks, no scars, not spots. Not even a blemish. He was so hot even he would have fucked himself. That was if he ever topped. He was strictly a bottom when money wasn’t involved. That’s when he remembered what day it was. It was Father’s Day, and he had two Daddies to make feel very special. He kissed his reflection, locking his eyes onto his own and left his bedroom.

When he entered his daddies’ room, he saw exactly what he expected, he’d even heard it down the hall, long before he’d gotten to the room. He say Chris pounding away at Dale’s muscular ass. The two older men making rough, passionate love. Trevor stood in the doorway watching for a while until Chris looked up at him. Trevor shot them a grin looking on seductively, “happy Father’s Day.” And with that, Chris came into Dale.

Since Trevor’s wish, he’d got exactly what he wanted. The wish made sure of that. Sure Chris and Dale weren’t his real parents but they showed him kindness no-one else had. Trevor met them when he was stripping at the local gay bar, he still does only now he lives with his daddies. They look after him and spoil him rotten, Trevor was too dumb to do most things himself. All he was good for was sex and looking hot. He did whatever they want and in turn they treated him like a son. Like a son from a porno that is. They would even buy him new underwear for his shows and always come along to support their boy. And if it was an especially good show, a twenty isn’t the only thing they’d be slipping into his underwear.

Annoyed was an understatement at this point. Cole was pissed. Very pissed. He’d been waiting around for hours for this plumber just to get a text saying he was going to be another 10 minutes. This guy was definitely going to get a low rating after this. Cole had just moved into his first house and it had a bit of maintenance that needed doing. One of those things being the plumbing. No wonder he’d bought the house had been on the cheap, it needed a lot of work. There was also something about the old owner, some ‘trickster’ apparently. Whatever that meant. Cole needed it to be done this morning because later he had the decorator in. He just hoped that guy would at least be on time unlike his pesky plumber. Cole barely wanted to let the man into his house as is, plumbers were always slobs in his experience. Covered in dirt and grime, low class, loud and annoying. Worst of all was they’d always have their disgusting ass crack on display anytime they knelt down. Although, this opinion wasn’t strictly related to plumbers in Cole’s eyes, this image was reserved for all labourers. Of course, Cole saw himself as the polar opposite to these workers. Cole was handsome, successful and charming.

After another half hour of waiting around, there was a knock at the door. The plumber. Before Cole had fully opened the door the man pushed into his home.

“Oi mate, lovely gaff yous ‘av here.”

Cole merely rolled his eyes and showed the man to the bathroom. No apology for being late. Just shoved his way into Cole’s house and treated it like shit. He walked mud through the house with his dirty boots and left a mucky hand print on the door frame of the bathroom. Cole was about to leave the man to it when he heard the plumber shout, “Mate, couldn’t make me a cuppa could you? Cheers.” Cole had to swallow his pride as he put the kettle on. “Oh and any biscuits if you got em.” So not only was this plumber demanding a cup of tea, but now wanted to eat Cole out of house and home. He was done. He gritted his teeth and he brought the tea and packet of biscuits to the plumber, but as he turned the corner of the bathroom he almost threw up in disgust. There on display sat the plumber’s fat, pale ass crack.

“Fucking disgusting, you should pull up your trousers! No one wants to see that!”

Cole was red in the face and almost spilled the man’s tea. The plumber poked his head out from under the sink. He had a confused expression on his face.

“Sorry boss. Canny help it, the missis loves it though! Ahahah.”

Beyond disgusted, Cole put down the tea and left the room. He was done. He didn’t want to see the plumber until he was done. Hoping that would be the last of his interaction with the slob of a man, Cole went into the garden to get some air. Stepping outside he was relieved to feel the cold morning air on his face. That fat plumber was starting to make the house seemed cramped. A small gust of wind caught Cole by surprise and almost knocked Cole over. As he stumbled he dropped his phone on the patio. “Shit.” Cole mumbled to himself. He bent down to pick it up and felt odd. It was like his ass felt cold for a second but he couldn’t work out why. Little did he know, Cole now had a permanent plumber’s crack of his own on display for all to see.

Worried about dropping his phone again, Cole made his way into his living room. As he walked through the house his appearance began to change. It started off slowly. The slippers he was wearing became mesh as the soles grew thicker becoming a pair of old, dusty trainers. He left muddy footprints as he walked through the house. His shorts became well worn and patches dried paint appeared all over them. His T-shirt followed suit as it became tatty and dirty. His sharp features became a little rougher as his eyebrows pushed out more and his eyes grew murky. His hair became cheaply cut and greasy with dust in it. Stubble started to push out of his cheeks and began to form a full beard. Once he got to the sofa he threw himself down into a slouched position, legs spread wide apart. Even his bare legs were now covered in dried paint as well as his arms. From his pocket, Cole pulled out a pack of cigarettes that weren’t there before and lit one up. He flicked ash on the floor as he laid back. He felt so strange but couldn’t quite work out why. His phone bleeped as a he saw a notification for a missed call. Boss. What the hell? This couldn’t be right, he was self employed. He put the now dusty and filthy phone to his ear and listened to the voicemail.

“Kane! Yous betta fuckin get your act together mate or yous won’t be working for me anymore. The last job you did was a shit show. Fucking paint on the floor of the guy’s gaff. If yous do a shit job again I’ll have to find another decorator, sure there’s plenty better than you!”

Cole was confused as he listened to the angry voicemail on the phone. Who the hell was this guy. Cole wasn’t a decorator either. Was he? Actually he didn’t know. He might be. And his name definitely wasn’t Cole, no, Cole. No his name wasn’t Kane. But it was. He’s always been called Kane.

Kane scratched his head and finished smoking his fag when he heard the plumber in the other room shout to him. “Oi Kane, I can smell that fag ash from here. Yous betta not be lighting in the guy’s house he’ll be pissed. Plus you’re early you ain’t meant to be here until the afternoon.” Kane was even more confused now. He could have sworn he owned the house. But he was just decorating for it. Of course he couldn’t own a house like this. It was huge and very expensive. Kane could barely pay rent with his poor spending habits, luckily the council payed that for him. Whilst he pondered his body began to inflate. Pounds of fat began to swell under Kane’s skin. His belly began to push out and spread over his lap. His back began to swell as well as love handles pushed out and made his builder’s crack even more prominent. His fat ass would always hang out above any pair or trackies he wore from now on. His gut was now getting constructed as it was caught under his T-shirt. It was uncomfortable so Kane pulled up his shirt and let it flop onto his lap freely.

Shit, he was way too early, if the boss found out he’d be in deep shit. Kane stumbled to his legs of fat, wobbly knees and made his way out to the garden. He sat back in a small garden chair and leaned back letting his belly stretch out forward. His dirty body felt achy and itchy as it continued changing. Hair pushed it way out across his entire body. His belly became a ball of fuzzy hair. His back erupted with the stuff like a carpet. His legs and arms became matted in it as it stuck together with old paint. His skin became less youthful as it aged a decade. Wrinkled and frown lines formed in his skin as his hair crept back and started to recede. Black patterns swirled down his arm and leg as tacky tattoos appeared on his skin. His freshly formed double chin was quickly covered with the beginning of a beard which stunk of cigarette smoke. As he say there he raised one leg up and released the most toxic, obnoxiously wet fart that seeped out his ass crack. The rich, successful, handsome young man was gone. Now he was Kane the dirty, slobbish decorator who was very early for his shift.

That afternoon, Kane arrived at the house half an hour late. He walked his muddy boots through the house as an estate agent watched him get to work. He overheard bits and pieces about the house being for sale again but didn’t pay it too much mind. He got to work in the bathroom, sat on the toilet seat and painting the wall. The agent went to check up on him and just say his fat ass crack leaking about above his joggers. The man recoiled in disgust as Kane let out a squelching fart as he worked. The agent had to shut the door to the small room. He just knew by the time he opened the door again the room would send a waft of ass, paint and BO into the house. He started opening the windows in preparation. Filthy fucking labourers.

Issac didn’t care that he’d pissed off his followers, so what? He was hot and he’d get more fans. It’s not like people wouldn’t eventually come crawling back to him. So what if he used his platform to make fun of another creator that got in touch with him? The guy was a creep. Asking for a collab where Issac would force feed him. It was fucking weird, Issac wasn’t some fat kinky weirdo. He’d worked hard for his body, that’s why he was popular, he didn’t need to be some fetish freak who doesn’t go to the gym to make a living. After the backlash to his post all of Isaac’s followers deserted him, all but one. The fat fuck he teased.

Issac should have known better than to humiliate someone you don’t know, you never know what they’re capable of. In this case, the fat kinky weirdo in question was a warlock. A powerful one at that. He sent Issac a message.

“If you want your followers back you’ll need to collab with me. The choice is yours, but one way or another, you’ll come to your senses.”

Issac scoffed that the message, who the fuck did this guy think he was? He didn’t need some gainer to help him get his followers back. His fingers typed angrily against his phone screen. He decided on a simple, “FUCK OFF YOU DUMB FATASS!” The moment he sent the message there was no way back. As he sat naked in his chair preparing another photo shoot he felt a gurgling in his gut. Like a hunger he’d never felt before. It was deep. Strong. Painful. He clutched his stomach in agony as it started to push back against his hands. It started as a small amount of pudge but quickly ballooned into a beachball sized gut. It was heavy and pinned Issac to his chair. He tried to push it down like it was a bump in the carpet but his new belly was rock solid. His pecs followed suit as they softened to the gurgling of his gut. His muscles lost definition as his now blubbery ass and thighs further wedged him into his seat. The sudden growth made his skin break out in pools of sweat that’s ran down his tight fat rolls of skin. Angry red stretch marks ran across his now bulbous belly and around his waist. He tried to look down but a thick double chin prevented movement to his neck. Not that he’d see anything, his once impressive cock was now buried bellow his belly and thickly cushioned fat pad. Shit, he’d probably never even be able to reach it again.

As he sat there he felt a vibration from the overhang of his belly. With a great deal of effort he pushed his sausage fingers beneath his gut to find his phone. It was a message from that gainer. “Hey fatass, feel like collabing now? Trust me I have enough doughnuts and pizza to fill that tank three times over. I’ll be over in ten.”

"Dude! It's just for one night, c'mon."

"No fucking way."

"It's tradition! You can't…"

"I said no fucking way." John's eyes narrowed.

He had just gotten back from his evening run when a few of his frat bros approached him. Jake, Chad, and Zack all looked annoyed, but John didn't care. This "tradition" was supposed to be sacred - chosen brothers opening themselves up to allow the benevolent ghosts of former frat brothers to inhabit their bodies briefly, adding extra spirit to the rager. It was supposed to be harmless fun.

"Listen guys," John began, trying to keep the frustration from his voice, "you know how I feel about all this supernatural stuff. My faith…"

"Ah, c'mon man!" Jake interjected, clapping John on the shoulder. "It's just a bit of fun. Loosen up!"

"Exactly," Chad chimed in. "Besides, you're one of the newest members. Got to pull your weight, yeah?"

John sighed heavily. He'd known there would be strings attached to joining this frat… This went against everything he believed in. And as John opened his mouth to protest further, he spotted Kev lumbering down the hallway towards them. Kev was the quintessential slob of a frat brother - unkempt hair, beer gut hanging over his waistband, a permanent sheen of sweat on his brow. He was in his final year but seemed to have no direction or ambition beyond the next keg stand.

"Yo, Kev!" Zack called out. "You ready for tonight, bro?"

"Fuck yeah, dude!" Kev slurred, taking another swig from his red solo cup, "Woah bros, like…" He looked closely at everyone, the slow gears in his brain turning, "this uh looks serious." He chuckled- deep and dumb.

John watched him with barely concealed disgust. Kev embodied everything he despised - laziness, gluttony, lack of self-control. Just looking at him made John feel unclean, like he needed another shower. He couldn't imagine ending up like that - directionless, gluttonous, throwing away his potential. That could never be him.

"John here doesn't want to participate in the ritual." Zack crossed his arms.

"What?" Kev blinked slowly, processing this new information. Then his face split into a wide, idiotic grin. "Aww, c'mon man! Don't be such a pussy!"

John recoiled slightly, wrinkling his nose in revulsion. "I'm not a pussy, I just…"

He trailed off, unsure how to explain his moral objections to someone like Kev without sounding judgmental. Not that Kev would understand anyway, being the walking embodiment of vice that he was. But John had standards- his faith, his commitment to his girlfriend, his goals…

"Aw, lighten up John!"

"Not like you have a choice." Jake added, "Unless you want out of the frat."

The threat hung heavy in the air. He couldn't risk getting kicked out, not when he'd worked so hard to get in. His jaw clenched as he weighed his options.

"…Fine." The word tasted bitter on his tongue. "I'll do it. But I don't like it."

Jake and Chad high-fived while Zack grinned triumphantly. "That's what we like to hear, bro!"

Kev let out a loud whoop and slapped John on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. "Hell yeah! Now that's more like it!"

_________

The dank basement reeked of mildew and stale beer. Eerie symbols were scrawled haphazardly across the stone walls, glowing faintly in the dim candlelight. John stood nervously with the other chosen bros - Mark, Tyler, and Ethan. An oppressive atmosphere hung thick in the air.

"So like, what exactly happens now?" Mark asked, his voice quavering slightly.

Tyler shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Same shit as every year, right? We just like, let 'em in and then…"

His words trailed off as an icy draft swept through the room, snuffing out several candles. The temperature plummeted, raising goosebumps on John's skin beneath his thin t-shirt.

"This is insane," Ethan muttered, rubbing his arms.

And then they saw them. Shadows twisted and warped in the guttering candlelight. Translucent figures began materializing - grinning specters in outdated fraternity t-shirts and board shorts. The spirits of past bros. They hovered briefly before lunging at the huddled students. Gasps echoed through the basement. John watched in abject horror as the translucent forms of the ghosts enveloped his friends. Their bodies convulsed briefly before going slack. When they opened their eyes again, they glowed with an otherworldly light.

"Holy shit, this feels amazing!" Mark exclaimed, flexing his new muscles appreciatively.

"Damn straight!" Tyler grinned wolfishly, running his hands over his toned stomach. "I forgot how good it feels to have a hot bod again."

Ethan just groaned in bliss, palming himself through his jeans. "Fuck me, I'm already horny as hell. And this kid is definitely packing."

John recoiled as the possessed bros started groping and fondling each other gleefully, laughing and catcalling. This was so much worse than he'd imagined.

"What the fuck…" John stumbled backwards, right into a ghost he hadn't noticed before. A chill went through his whole form.

"Sup, bro!" the ghost guffawed, flashing a dopey grin, "Name's Big Mikey!" John recoiled instinctively, "What's wrong, bro?" John could make out more details of this spirit- the days-old stubble, the strong odor of stale beer and cigarette smoke emanating from him, the hairy beer gut, "You look like you've seen a ghost." He guffawed as his own stupid joke.

"No no no, not this fucker," John thought desperately under his breath. "Anyone but this loser."

Of all the former frat bros, was this really the guy who'd be wearing his skin for the night? John's thoughts raced as he imaged the damage Big Mikey would do. His thoughts were cut short as Big Mikey moved towards him.

"No, wait! Stop!" John cried out, trying to push Big Mikey away.

"Whoa there, lil' bro!" Big Mikey laughed, "Ain't no use fightin' it!" He pressed closer, his ample gut pressing against John's toned abs. "Gonna feel real good, trust me!"

"Like hell it will!" John snarled, but even as he resisted, he could feel an odd tingling sensation starting to spread through his body.

Big Mikey just chuckled darkly, "C'mon Johnny boy, lemme in!"

John screamed as he felt Big Mikey's essence begin to pour into him, filling him up from the inside out. It was like being stretched to his limits, his skin prickling and burning as it struggled to contain the invading spirit.

"Oh god oh fuck, it hurts!" John wailed, doubling over. His muscles seized and spasmed as they were forced to accommodate Big Mikey's bulk.

"Aw c'mon, ya big baby!" Big Mikey's voice boomed from within, "Ya gotta relax, bro!" John could feel the ghost's presence expanding inside him, pushing outward.

"No no no, I can't take it!" John sobbed, tears streaming down his face, "You're too big! You won't fit…"

John gasped as he felt his jeans tightening painfully around his thickening thighs and ass. The seams strained as his legs and torso grew heavier, softer. A layer of flab crept over his once defined abs, blossoming into a proper beer gut.

"Holy shit, that's what I'm talkin' about! We're makin' room!" Big Mikey sang gleefully from inside John's rapidly changing body. "This is fuckin' awesome!"

"No, please, stop!" John whimpered, but his pleas sounded distant even to his own ears. John shuddered as he felt his body ballooning outward, packing on pounds at an alarming rate. His arms swelled first, biceps and triceps ballooning into soft, jiggling mounds of fat-covered muscle. The sleeves of his tight shirt ripped apart as his forearms expanded.

"Fuuuuck…" John groaned as his pecs inflated like balloons, stretching his shirt to its limit before the fabric tore away completely. Tufts of coarse hair sprouted across his broad, sloping chest.

"Hell yeah, work those pecs!" Big Mikey's voice rumbled, sending vibrations through John's body. John could only moan weakly as his nips hardened into fat nubs.

His gut continued to grow, hanging over the waistband of his straining jeans. John couldn't believe what he was seeing... what he was feeling. This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't... John's head throbbed as it too began to change shape. His chiseled jawline softened and rounded. A double chin emerged, wobbling with each labored breath.

"Guh… stop…" John slurred, his words garbled as his tongue felt thick and clumsy in his mouth.

Coarse, wiry hair erupted along his jawline and up onto his cheeks, quickly forming a patchy, unkempt beard. The facial hair matched the messy mop growing atop his head, both oily and disheveled.

"I can't… too much…" John whined pathetically, but even as he protested, he could feel his resistance crumbling. Big Mikey was taking the wheel.

And suddenly, John was a mere passenger in his own body, watching in shock as his limbs moved of their own accord. Big Mikey was in control now.

"Alrighty then, let's get this fuckin' party started!" Big Mikey bellowed, his voice now a deep, gravelly baritone. He stumbled into the main room of the frat house, drawing stares from the other bros.

"Holy shit, look at John!" Someone yelled, pointing and laughing. Indeed, the sight of the usually strait-laced John now sporting a beer gut, greasy beard, and a shit-eating grin was quite the spectacle.

Big Mikey made a beeline for the keg, grabbing a large red solo cup.

"Let's fuckin' go!" He chugged deeply, foam spilling down his newly furry chin. He burped loudly, slamming the empty cup down. "Fuck yeah, that's the stuff!" Turning to survey the room, his bleary eyes landed on Kev.

"Yo Kev, that you bro?!" Big Mikey slurred, staggering over and throwing an arm around the sloppy frat bro. "Guess you're no longer the only one who got the Big Mikey treatment, eh?" He guffawed at his own joke.

Kev blinked slowly, then broke into a dopey grin. "Fuck yeah!"

John wanted to be sick.

_________

The night blurred into a haze of debauchery as Big Mikey ran roughshod over John's senses and morals. Shot after shot was tossed back, each one stoking the fire in Big Mikey's belly. The acrid smoke of countless joints filled John's lungs, his head spinning delightfully.

But it was the blowjob that truly shocked John's fading awareness. Big Mikey dropped to his knees in front of a stunned frat bro, fumbling with his belt. "C'mon bro, let Big Mikey make you feel real good!" he slurred before engulfing the other man's cock in his sloppy mouth.

John wanted to scream, to tear himself free of this violating experience, but he was utterly powerless. And at that moment, the drugs, the alcohol, the sheer mental strain proved too much for both John and Big Mikey. Darkness closed in and as consciousness faded, he heard it- heard Big Mikey's voice echoing in his mind.

"Thanks for the ride, little bro. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!" He could feel Big Mikey leaving him, "Cuz I think you're gonna be carryin' on my legacy from now on, bro! Do me proud!"

And then... there was nothing.

_________

The next morning dawned grim and grey. The remnants of the wild Halloween bash littered the frat house - crushed cups, empty bottles, questionable stains on the carpets.

Jake rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he padded downstairs, concern etched on his face. "Hey guys, have you seen John? He's been MIA since the party ended and…" he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Chad leaned in, lowering his voice, "You think that possession shit did anything permanent? Like, to his brain?" He voiced the question all three had been silently fretting over.

Zack frowned, "Nah, it's always just temporary before, right?" Despite his reassuring tone, uncertainty crept into his eyes.

"I dunno man. Did you see him last night? I've never seen someone's body change from the possession." Chad paused, "Well, except Kev."

Jake and Zack shared a concerned glance. And when they pushed open the door to the common room, the trio stopped short, jaws dropping at the scene before them. Slumped on the couch, reeking of weed and sweat, hair disheveled, beer gut out, was… John?

Well, the man that used to be John, anyway. Gone was the chiseled physique, replaced by a firm gut and fat. A scraggly, unkempt beard covered his round face. But most shocking was the dopey grin splitting his flushed visage as he lifted a half-empty beer bottle to his lips, a smoldering blunt dangling forgotten from his fingers.

"John?"

"Brooooos. This shit's fuckin' legit." John slurred, patting his firm gut and looking up at the trio with glassy eyes, "So? Who else want's to get fuckin' lit?"

When Dan’s good friend moved out to take a job in another state, the young man was devastated. Not only because he missed his friend, but because the next rent check was coming due. And despite having a good job in sales, the extra cost this month would set him behind. So when Amir had answered his ad online, he was elated. But flashforward a few months and Dan was slowly losing his patience.

“Your room reeks dude, could you do your laundry?” “Your plates are piling up and you spilled your protein powder all over the kitchen, can you clean it up?” “Could you be a bit more quiet when you bring guys over?” And Amir would just nod and tell him to chill out.

And so Dan was finding himself doing the cleaning, keeping up as best he could while managing his stressful job, while Amir seemed to be living his best life- partying, working out, and thriving at a job as a personal trainer. And Dan was getting tired of it. As he lay in bed, kept awake by the moans of the man Amir was fucking in the other room, he grew more frustrated.

“How is he this fucking inconsiderate?” Dan mumbled, “I wish he’d fucking know what it’s like to live with someone like him.”

As those words left his lips, he felt a sudden searing pain well up from within his abdomen. Dan flipped over, falling off his bed and gripping his abdomen tightly, the pain slowly subsiding. Tears in his eyes, Dan pushed himself up against his bed, panting heavily, a cold sweat soaking through his clothes as a heat welled up inside of him. Slowly, he pulled his shirt and pants off, basking in the cool air of his room. He looked down at his stomach- hairless, pale, and skinny in the dim light that creeped in through his window. Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

“What was that?” he whispered, as he rubbed his sore abdomen with his hand. His large, tan hand. Dan’s eyes widened and he lifted his hand, staring at it closely. It looked unnatural at the end of his skinny pale arm, and as he flexed his meaty fingers, he felt an aching sensation course down his arm, “No, no, no! What the fuck?!” He shouted.

He watched as the darker tan traveled down his arm and the muscles in forearm begin to contract. His arm swelled and the muscles in his forearm became more pronounced, only to be blanketed in swirling dark itchy hairs. The young man groaned as the same feeling started in his other hand, which quickly began to expand. Dan cursed as his biceps and triceps contracted before violently expanding, the muscle toned and refined. He looked down at them in shock, unable to process what he was seeing. He was always called a beanpole growing up and throughout college. Now he had arms that could rival any of the guys on the football team. Arms that must’ve seen the gym frequently. Arms that he realized must look ridiculous on his pale and skinny body. But his worry was unwarranted as he felt his shoulders begin to expand and fill with muscle, causing his frame to widen. The muscles in his upper back followed suit, contracting and expanding, causing his body to widen.

“It hurts...” He moaned, a few tears falling down his face. He let out a yelp as he felt his torso seemingly expand, taking him from a modest 5’8” to 6’0.

He tried to push himself up- he needed to get help. But another round of muscle contractions knocked him onto his larger back. This time his pectorals and abs contracted violently. First his pecs began to swell, at first with only a little muscle, but then more quickly- expanding and growing. They became more toned as the skin turned tan and matched that of his arms and back. His abs were next, each one popping forward one at a time- becoming larger and more defined. His obliques followed suit, becoming toned and defined- giving him a set of abdominal muscles any man would dream of. But Dan couldn’t help but feel this was a nightmare. The cold sweat that covered him and the soreness that radiated throughout his upper body was too much. And before he could even catch his breath, the intensity of that itching returned. It started in his chest- hair emerging from each follicle before lengthening, darkening, and curling around his once bare chest. His lifted his arms as his pits filled with dark and curly hair. He watched, amazed at how long and dark his new pit hair was becoming. And when he caught a whiff of the musk that now emanated from them, he quickly lowered his arms, feeling tears run down his eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” He breathed out- it was like he just ran a marathon and hadn’t showered for several days or worn deodorant.

Before he could fully process the new smell wafting from his pits, the itching returned- this time to his abdomen. A dark treasure trail emerged, running down to his light, well shaven pubes at the base of his cock. And once it reached there, all thoughts about his new size and smell were replaced with pleasure.

“Oh fuck yeahhhh...” Dan moaned, his large hand wrapping around his small dick.

He gave it a few tugs, and felt his dick harden to his usual 5 inches. With each tug, he felt his member lengthen. And to his pleasure, he felt his cock widen with each pump, filling his large hand more and more. Overcome by the pleasure he let go, breathing heavily while his new 13inch dick remained painfully erect. He looked down at the new python between his legs, his eyes widening as his previously cut cock became wrapped in foreskin, the pleasure nearly causing him to black out. But when he looked again, he was shocked- it was massive- putting his old dick to shame. Not to mention much darker as the skin around his upper legs similarly darkened. He let out another moan as his ass inflated with muscle, lifting him slightly off the ground. But his pleasure came to an end as he felt an intense cramping in his feet and legs. He looked down at his feet, he could see that they were also expanding, quickly increasing from size 10 to 11 and then to 13. He winced as more hairs pushed themselves out along his feet and as his legs similarly began to contract. The muscle in his calves and thighs expanded rapidly, before toning and becoming covered in a thick layer of dark leg hair. Dan watch through tears as his skin darkened there as well, until each pale patch on his body had been replaced by a rich caramel. And finally, his body and its muscles relaxed, although his new python remained painfully and pleasurably erect.

“Okay, it’s over, it over.” Dan reassured himself, pushing his new muscular body up.

He felt unbalanced on his new larger legs and he stumbled a bit towards the mirror in his room. And in the mirror staring back at him was a body of an absolute beast. Hairy, muscular, taller- his new dick twitched slightly and continued to leak. He gently rubbed his pecs, feeling the hairy between his new large fingers, taking in his new size. But his head remained unchanged, the pale skin of his thin neck and clean shaven face was completely off from what the rest of him had become. He rubbed a hand through his matted and sweaty hair, taking a deep breath. But when he looked down at his hand, his eyes widened. He was holding a clump of his hair. And when he looked up, more of his locks fell from his head.

“Am I going bald?” He questioned, rubbing his hair more and watching it fall out.

But before he could even fully register that, the pain returned, this time in his neck. He fell to his knees and watched as his neck expanded with muscle, becoming wider and wider. He could barely keep his eyes open as his face began to change. He watched as his jaw expanded, taking on a typical lantern jaw appearance, while his head expanded and matched the size of his new body appropriately. His soft features hardened and became rough, while his eyes shifted from a light brown to a dark brown. Finally, as his skin began to darken even more, he watched as hair sprouted from the top of his head, mostly shaved at the side, while a thick beard sprouted from his once clean shaven face. At this moment, a realization hit him hard. The face staring back at him in the mirror was none other than Amir. And any trace of his old physique was finally gone.

“No.... no way.” He whispered, his voice deepening and taking on a slight middle eastern accent, “Why? Why am I Amir?”

He looked over his body, a feeling of dread passing over him. This couldn’t be happening. As he racked his brain for reasons, he felt his stomach drop. Was it that stupid wish? This isn’t what he meant! But as he tried to think of anything he could do, he felt another throb of pleasure coming from his dick. And another, and then another. He fell to his bed, moaning in his deep baritone, matching the sounds the real Amir was making in the other room. He gripped his new monster and with new vigor began to stroke. Without thinking too much, he lifted his arm, again getting hit by the smell of his own musk. But this time it was different- he didn’t dislike how it smelled. In fact, it smelled kinda good. Like actually really good. He smiled and took in a deep whiff, his mind in complete bliss from his own musk. It was all starting to make sense now- Amir wasn’t inconsiderate. How could Dan have expected Amir to deprive himself of such an intense musk? And if he wanted to maintain that musk, he’d need to workout. How could he have time to clean up after himself? He had to prioritize. Dan nodded in agreement at his own thoughts, all while moving his large hand faster up and down along his dick. And that was another thing too! A dick this large needed to be shared with the world. This body needed to be shared with the world. All other things were trivial- his job, his education, his friends, his interests. All he needed was the gym and sex. He listened to the men in the other room moaning and let out a moan of his own. The sound of Amir dominating another man- it made so much sense. And slowly, Dan felt his interest in women shift. Instead, skinny guys with big asses danced through his mind. Having them suck him off or him plowing their asses caused Dan to moan even louder. And finally, after a night filled with pleasure and pain, his breathing hitched and Dan released his load. His dick throbbing- load after load landing across his chest. After a few minutes of lying in bed, nearly having blacked out from the pleasure, Dan forced himself out of bed, rubbing his cum across his large hairy chest and abdomen. He grabbed his cellphone and quickly texted his boss that he was quitting his job at the sales firm, before blocking him. What did he care anyway? As he walked towards the door, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and smirked.

“Good looking guy.” He chuckled.

His attention shifted when he heard their front door close. He smirked- Amir wasn’t interested in any of that cuddling BS after a good fuck. Dan entered the living room where he came face to face with a shirtless Amir. The other man looked confused, taking in what essentially was a mirror image of himself, except this one was covered in dried cum and completely naked. Amir raised his eyebrow.

“Well hey there, aren’t you handsome.” Amir smirked taking in the sight, “But who are you exactly?” He continued to look over the man and started trying to put two and two together, “Wait, Dan? Is that you?”

Dan chuckled and he seemed to ponder it a bit. Who was he exactly? Who did he want to be? The name Dan- the very idea of being Dan- didn’t really seem to fit him anymore. He shrugged and looked at his twin.

“I guess I was Dan once, but I feel more like Amir.”

“Wait but dude, I’m Amir.” The two stared at each other, both trying to think through their dilemma. Their brains were mostly geared for sex and working-out, this was almost too much for them. And why should it matter? Wasn’t this the best thing for both of them? The real Amir finally cracked, fully accepting their new predicament, “You know what dude! That’s fucking awesome!” The two fist bumped, “I think I’ll call you AJ since ya know we share the same last name too.”

And AJ smiled, the two of them fist bumping as he fully embraced his new identity.

A week had passed since Dan became Amir, and the two of them were living their best life. Amir had let AJ borrow some of his clothes in the meantime given that all of Dan’s old stuff was too small on him. AJ didn’t mind that none of it was washed or anything, fully enjoying the musky smell. They had spent the last week removing any old memories, photos, and possessions that Dan had, making room for AJ’s new interests. Maybe at times AJ felt a pang of resistance somewhere from within his psyche, but he never had a hard time suppressing it. Especially as the apartment became messier and messier, the smell always provided some comfort to AJ. Amir also helped AJ find a new job as a personal trainer, which wasn’t too difficult. In fact, the two had just finished up an intense workout. AJ couldn’t help but snap a photo of the two of them. And if you asked, both he and Amir had to admit, it was in fact great to live with one another.

Here is the second story in this series. First story can be found here: Acts of Service

"Words of affirmation, makes sense."

"What was that, babe?"

Luke tossed his phone aside, "Took one of those online quizzes." He smiled as Ryan crawled into bed, "Told me what my love language is."

"Words of affirmation, huh?" He pulled Luke in for a kiss.

Luke returned it, gripping his hardening cock through his grey shorts, "Looks like someone's horny." He teased.

He smiled as he threw Ryan down onto the bed, lying on top of him and kissing him passionately. The two continued to make out, exploring each others' bodies. Ryan moaned as Luke removed his boxers and licked along his hardening shaft.

"You're so fucking sexy." Ryan moaned, "I fuckin' love the way you look at me. With those slutty blue bottom eyes."

Luke blinked a few times and stopped what he was doing, "Blue bottom eyes?" He'd usually top. And he definitely didn't have blue eyes, "What're you...?"

"Fuck, why'd you stop? You're always so desperate for my cock."

Luke shuddered as he took in the sight of his boyfriend's dick. There was something different about it. Something beyond anything he had ever felt. He needed that dick. In his mouth. Up his ass. Just...

"Oh fuck..." Luke practically swallowed it whole, the very feeling of it entering his mouth sending shockwaves of unfamiliar pleasure throughout his body. Yeah, he enjoyed pleasuring his boyfriend, but this? It was beyond anything he ever experienced.

"Yeah... there we go..." Ryan moaned, "Fuck, you're so fuckin' cute with that slutty little haircut." He said, grabbing a fistful of Luke's hair.

Luke was too busy deep throating to realize that his hair started to restyle itself. The sides faded, while the top grew and became tousled, wavy, and thick.

"I always liked 'em blond too."

Luke broke away now. What was Ryan talking about? He wasn't blond. Ryan never said he liked blond guys before. What the fuck was his boyfriend talking about?

"Babe, what're... you... I'm not... fuck..." Luke tried to focus, but he kept staring at his boyfriend's thick cock, fighting the urge to swallow it whole, "We... we need to... stop..."

"What's wrong?" Ryan asked, brushing a hand along Luke's cheek, "God so perfect... always so smooth and clean-shaven."

"Babe, I'm hairier than you!" But when he reached a hand to his face, he was met with soft, smooth skin, "Wh-what?" He yelped when he looked down and found that even his body hair had seemingly vanished, leaving him smooth, "Oh fuck, Ryan! Something's..."

"God I fucking love your slutty little lisp." He kissed Luke passionately, before breaking away, "You always sound so fuckin' desperate."

"Babe... Ryan, like what're you talking about?" Luke's hand covered his mouth, his blue eyes widening, "Oh em gee! What like the actual fuck?" The high pitched, lisp-twinged voice was not his own. It never had been, "Why am I like talking like this?!"

"Fuck, why're you freaking out?" Ryan chuckled, "Here, we can take a break. Come here," He laid down, "I know how much you love being the little spoon."

And suddenly, Luke felt compelled to just crawl up against Ryan. He felt Ryan's firm, hairy chest against his back. The man's cock nestled up against his ass. And Luke sighed. He felt so relaxed, although part of him was confused. He was usually the big spoon. He usually held Ryan like this. This felt...

"I love how small you are. How easily you fit against me."

"But we're like, umm the same size?" He hated how high and whiny he sounded now, "Babe... please..."

He let out a pained whimper as his body shifted and changed. His body contorting, shifting. Legs and torso shortening. Broad shoulders and back caving in. His musculature? Shrinking- no longer built for strength. Becoming increasingly more toned- more for showing off than anything practical. Ryan's now meaty hand firmly grasped Luke's smaller pec, pinching a hardening nipple.

"I love how loud you get in bed."

"Ryan! You need to... Ohhhhhhhhhhh!"

Luke was unable to stop the desperate, slutty moan that escaped his lips from just the slightest stimulation of his nipple. He blushed and pushed Ryan away. His neighbors had to have heard that, fuck anyone walking in the hall could've heard that. He'd moan, but not this loud. Not this fucking slutty.

"Like babe! This is sooooo messed up!" Luke whined desperately, "Like, please stop!" He looked down at himself and felt tears stinging at his eyes.

His skin was cute and unblemished, clean shaven and bare. His pecs were small, toned, and graced by two pert, pink nips begging to be squeezed. His firm abdominal musculature was now diminished and smooth. Both arms dainty, hands and nails well manicured. He looked over at the mirror on the dresser and gasped- blond hair, blue eyes, and pouty lips. He looked like a slut. He sounded like a slut.

"Oh my gawd!" He cried out in his high-pitched, lisp-stricken voice.

"Come on and get back in bed." Ryan coerced, "I just know you want this cock up that fat ass."

Luke barely had time to brace for the next change. In an instant, his ass swelled and swelled. Packing on muscle and squeezable, jiggly fat. And with each pulse of growth, Luke let out loud, desperate moans that echoed beyond the room itself. He nearly collapsed from the pleasure as he firmly grasped his two engorged ass cheeks, feeling his hole pulsing with a desperate need to be filled.

"Come here."

And Luke did. Because he needed it. Because Ryan had been right- he wanted that cock up his fat ass. He bounced on it, crying out Ryan's name, screaming in pleasure for all to hear. Tears threatening to fall from his blue eyes, blushing from the sheer embarrassment of what he was doing and how much he was absolutely loving it.

"God damn, you're my favorite fuck buddy." Ryan moaned with another thrust, "Best fucking bottom in this damn city." He thrust again, "Such a fucking slutty fuck toy."

Luke felt a momentary, unmeasurable sense of loss as his relationship dissolved into nothing more than a series of quick, no-strings attached, hook-ups. He felt an even greater sense of loss as his IQ plummeted rapidly. His mind slowed and filled with cotton candy. His eyes dimming to reflect just how little was going on behind them. All to make room for his slutty new existence. Thoughts focused on getting fucked, sucking dick, and whoring himself out. He loved being a little slut. Just a fuck toy. A loud, slutty, thick assed bottom.

Both of them came with Ryan's final thrust. Luke lay there in post-orgasmic bliss, moaning like the desperate slut he now was.

"Fuck..." Ryan moaned, "You're such a good fuck." He affirmed.

Luke giggled. He certainly knew what he was, he really didn't need to be told. He was the best fucking bottom in the city. Always needy, never satisfied. But he certainly appreciated Ryan's affirmations.

"You're joining the team next year, right man?"

"Yeah bro, that's the plan."

Tony smirked as one of his new gym bros clapped him on the back. Yeah, that was indeed the plan. But it hadn't always been. Hockey? Him? He couldn't fully believe it.

"You were a natural out there."

Tony smiled as he recalled how swiftly he moved on the ice. How easily it came to him. The speed, the thrill... It felt so familiar... Like he had done it hundreds of times prior... Like he had spent his life training to play in college.

"Felt right, man, ya know?"

Just as natural as all the time spent in the gym, focusing on lifting weights rather than only cardio. In hindsight, he couldn't imagine why he hadn't started lifting earlier. His body had responded quickly, like it yearned to pack on muscle. And looking at himself now, with his bulging muscles, body hair, facial hair... A far cry from the scrawny twink he arrived on campus as at the start of the year.

"Twink death."

His gay besties he had met on his first day on campus would say. He heard that phrase even more when they noticed his new chest hairs.

"Twunk!"

"Jock!"

His besties would giggle, poke at his muscles. At first, Tony would laugh. Talk about how many more guys were checking him out. Brag about how they couldn't get enough of his thicker, muscular ass. But even that seemed temporary. Hooking up with men? Tony noticed his attraction shifting. Beautiful blond women with big tits. And it wasn't just his preferences. Endless celebrity gossip with his besties? He would rather talk about sports and watch the big game. Not to check out the hot guys on the team, but because he actually cared. Majoring in theater? Suddenly finance was becoming more attractive, as if he always wanted to pursue a career in the private sector.

"You've changed."

"Did you dye your hair?"

Tony tried to laugh it off. Tell his besties it was just him exploring a different side of him. But as time went on, this him- this "new" him felt right. No one in his family was blond. So how had he been? His brothers and father were massive sports fans. So why wouldn't he be? His gay besties? He would rather hang out with the jocks down the hall- and not just because he found them hot. Their camaraderie felt right. He bonded so easily with them. And suddenly, partying, poppers, and getting his ass fucked felt wrong. That person, that version of him... it didn't really feel like him. And as his first year in college passed by, he felt that the person he was when he arrived on campus was never actually supposed to be him.

"My head..." He grunted and closed his eyes.

These migraines hurt. Becoming more frequent as the months passed. But the migraines came with flashes of something else. Of a different life. Of growing up different. Playing hockey, his first time with a woman, meeting Christi, wanting to get married to her...

"Fuck." Tony whispered. What was he thinking? Who were these people? It hurt. These memories. He longed for them, longed for something that felt more real than who had been these past few months, "What the fuck is..."

His phone buzzed and he looked down at a message. He involuntarily shuddered.

"Let's meet up when you're back."

Paul. He lived next to his parent's place. Just moved in a few days before Tony left for college. How many times had they hooked up before he left? How many times had Paul fucked him? Tony gulped. Paul was always so dominant. So in charge. Tony had drooled over the man's thick cock more times than he could count. But now? Tony had no interest.

"Alright." Tony replied. He felt he at least owed Paul an explanation for his sudden change.

---------------

Tony stood outside Paul's front door, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right, that his memories of Paul and their past together were somehow…off. Before Tony could knock, the door swung open. Paul's musculature and hairy torso greeted him. And while it would've usually turned him on, Tony felt... nothing. Even as he remembered riding Paul's fat cock, which bulged obscenely in his shorts. Even as he remembered Paul's calloused hands squeezing his ass. Even as he remembered stuffing his nose in Paul's musky pits...

"Tony? This is unexpected," Paul raised an eyebrow. His gaze lingered on Tony's muscular frame and short dark hair. Tony figured the "unexpected part" had to do with his appearance, "You look…different."

"I…yeah, I guess I do," Tony mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, "I wanted to talk to you about some things…" He trailed off, unsure of exactly what he wanted to say.

"Lets talk indoors." He moved out of the way, inviting Tony in, "Did you have a chance to work out today? I can tell you enjoy it."

Tony sensed the disdain, "I, well..."

But as he stepped inside, a flood of fragmented images popped into his head... He was jogging, shirtless. Appearing as he did now. His muscular physique soaking up the sun. He had stopped for a drink, and that's when he met Paul, seemingly another man out for a jog. They talked and Paul invited him over to use his home gym. After all, Tony's usual gym was closed for repairs.

"I… What was that…?" Tony stopped mid-step and gripped his head, "I've... done this before."

"Huh maybe you have." Paul grinned, "Offer still stands, you coming or what?"

"S-sure..." He replied, numbly.

Paul smirked and placed a firm hand on Tony's broad shoulder, guiding him towards the basement stairs, each step bringing up more fragments. The creaky stairs, the musty smell, the single bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling…

"Wait Paul, I don't..." Tony froze as they reached the bottom. No gym equipment, just an empty, solitary chair in the center of the room.

"Have a seat, Tony. We need to…talk." He gestured to the chair.

"But..." He remembered being confused... asking Paul where his equipment was. Being told to sit in the chair. He gripped his head, "Paul, please... what's going on?" His voice sounded small and uncertain, but he did as he was told. He sunk into the cold, hard chair.

"It's time to talk." Paul came up behind Tony and rubbed his shoulders, "But you remember that before we start talking..."

"I need to be naked." Tony mumbled, eyes dulling over.

"Good boy." Paul smirked, "Let me help you out of those clothes."

Tony hesitated, then slowly began removing his clothes under Paul's watchful gaze. First his shirt, exposing the chiseled planes of his chest and abdomen, muscles rippling with each movement. Paul circled him appraisingly.

"Look at that. Just like the day I met you. Those pecs, those abs… It's impressive." Paul's eyes roamed lower, taking in the dusting of dark hair trailing down from his navel. "Hairier too... such a shame." Finally, Tony kicked off his underwear, leaving him completely nude, "Impressive..." He gave Tony's cock a few tugs, feeling it grow in his hand, "This won't do at all. Far too large." He sighed, "I guess I can fix this... again."

"Wha... no, I need to... fix?" Tony mumbled, "Paul, I don't..."

"Shhh, just relax Tony. Imagine your limbs growing heavier. You know this feeling, don't you? The weight, the tingling in your limbs… Just like before."

As Paul spoke, Tony felt his eyelids growing heavy, his muscles relaxing against his will. And he did remember - Paul's deep voice echoing in his mind, the commands... to be something else, something better. And oh how eagerly his body responded…

"Yes, that's right. Focus on my voice. Let everything else fade away," Paul purred, circling the chair. "Starting to remember our first session?"

"I… I remember…" Tony slurred, his words thick and clumsy as he slipped deeper under Paul's sway, "You... changed me..."

"So you remember my trade? Hypnotism and psychology." Paul's voice was rich with pride. "And my research then too?"

Tony nodded, "The mind body connection." He slurred.

"And how what the mind believes can alter the body if the technique is strong enough." Paul continued, "And if the subject is weak enough."

Under the deep trance, Tony's mind flooded with vivid memories of his previous hypnotic session with Paul. He saw himself, growing smaller and softer, listening intently as Paul's voice echoed commands about shrinking, losing muscle, hair lightening to a sunny blond. Each suggestion had felt so right, so inevitable, his body eagerly complying…

"I want you to imagine your body starting to shrink, Tony," Paul commanded, "Feel yourself growing smaller, lighter. Your muscles melting away, your strength fading."

Against his will, Tony felt a tingling sensation spread through his limbs. He watched as his arms began to thin, his biceps deflating like punctured balloons. His triceps collapsing in on themselves. What were once his proud, muscular arms- ready for the life of a hockey player- were two sticks that never looked like they'd seen a dumbbell. With a pained gasp, his pecs began to cave in on themselves, flattening at an alarming rate.

"No..." A pitiful plea escaped his lips as he tried to resist, to clench his muscles and maintain his size, but it was no use. It was as if his body wanted this now, goaded on by his captor.

"That's it Tony, let it happen. Feel your shoulders narrowing, your back thinning out. All that bulky muscle just…melting away."

Tony whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he felt his once powerful back giving way. The thick delts and lats that allowed him to bench press twice his bodyweight now shriveled like raisins. His traps, the source of so much strength and power, disappeared entirely. In moments, his upper body was slim and delicate, hardly recognizable.

"Your six-pack is flattening out, Tony. Feel those defined muscles soften and melt into a smooth, flat plane."

Tony gasped as he felt the distinct ridges of his abdominals begin to blur and merge. The hard, sculpted surface giving way to softness, all definition vanishing. Tony could only run a dainty hand over his flat stomach, wincing at the lack of his proud abdominals.

"Now your legs, Tony. Those thick, powerful thighs and calves. You feel them growing slender and dainty." Paul licked his lips in anticipation.

Tony cried out as he felt the changes rippling through his lower half. His quads, once rock-hard and bulging, began to slenderize rapidly. The dense calf muscles that propelled him across the ice at incredible speeds melted away, leaving behind slim, dainty appendages. Even his feet seemed to shrink slightly, becoming soft and cute.

"Now picture your hair. Not black, but golden. Soft and fine and silky to the touch." Paul reached out and ran his fingers through Tony's locks, watching in satisfaction as the strands shifted hue and texture before his eyes.

"Pl-please..."

"Don't worry, I know. I know having this kind of equipment is too much for a vapid twink to handle." Paul again tugged at Tony's dick, "I want you to feel your cock shrinking, Tony. Diminishing in size until it's barely more than a useless nub."

Tony whimpered in despair as he felt his most masculine attribute beginning to fail him. His once impressive manhood started to dwindle, inch by agonizing inch. Within moments, what remained was a pathetic little nub that shamefully throbbed in Paul's hand.

"Perfect."

But to Tony, this was far from perfect. His mind raced, barely taking note as his body hair vanished, leaving him smooth. Didn't register his skin becoming soft, smooth, and unblemished. All he could focus on were the sudden memories of that first session. How Paul's voice wrapped around his mind like a vice, shaping his very identity. Being molded into a giggling, vapid twink, obsessed with fashion and sex.

"You... stole my life..."

Tears streamed down Tony's face as fragments of his old life surfaced- charging down the ice, stick in hand, heart pounding with exhilaration. Pushing his body to its limits at the gym, building muscle. Flirting with with chicks at parties, high-fiving his bros. None of it matched the empty-headed twink he had become and was being forced to become again.

"Paul…" He whined in a voice several octaves higher than only a few minutes ago, "Don't do this to me. Please." He begged in his slurred, slutty voice, "I remember who I used to be..."

Ignoring Tony's pitiful pleas, Paul slipped a pair of headphones over the smaller man's ears. Instantly, a repetitive monotone filled his senses, drilling Paul's instructions directly into his psyche.

"…you will submit to Paul completely. Your purpose is to serve and please him in any way he desires. Cleaning his house naked, doing his chores, serving as his house boy brings you immense joy and fulfillment. Presenting your holes for his use is your greatest pleasure…"

Tony whimpered as the voices seeped into his mind, eroding his already weakened will. He felt himself slipping, his brain felt fuzzy, less sharp, focused only on the words. The memories of his old life that had been bubbling to the surface were quickly drowning in the new images of a different life. Of Paul and all his needs. Drool trickled from his slack mouth, eyes glazing over.

"'Mh…mwh…yhyhyou?"

Paul raised an eyebrow and grinned, "Are you already that fucking brain dead that you can't talk?" He removed a single earbud, "Try again, use your words."

Tony licked his plump lips, struggling to form a coherent thought. "Wh-why… why... m...m....mmmm.... meeee?"

Paul smirked, "Because I can, Tony. Because I want to. Because seeing you reduced to my personal fucktoy and maid is the ultimate rush." He grabbed a handful of Tony's soft, doughy ass, squeezing roughly. "And this time, I'm not letting you leave. No college. No "besties". No breaking free of this new life. You belong to me now, understand? My full-time cumdump and house boy." With that, Paul shoved the headphones back into place, the hypnotic suggestions immediately flooding Tony's shattered mind once more. "Just relax and accept your new life. Serving me is all you'll be good for now."

Paul stroked his hardening cock as he watched Tony slip deeper into the trance, his eyes vacant and glassy, drool running down his chin. The sight of his former straight stud reduced to such a pathetic, brainless fucktoy never failed to arouse him. It was just like before. But this time? There would be no going back. Soon, Tony would be nothing more than a set of holes for Paul to use as he pleased, a living sex doll to fulfill his every fantasy. A live-in, slutty maid.

"I think he'll do nicely," he chuckled darkly to himself. "48 hours of reinforcement should really seal it. Then the real fun can begin." He palmed his stiffening erection, already imagining all the ways he would use his new toy. "Until then, I'll leave you to marinate."

Paul ascended the stairs and flicked off the light switch, plunging the basement into darkness, leaving his newest creation alone. And Tony remained slumped in the chair, a puddle of drool forming beneath his slack jaw. His glassy eyes stared at nothing as the words on the tape wormed their way deeper into his fractured psyche.

"Yesh… I'm P-Paul's… his per-perfect… per-perfect fuck-toy…"

His high, breathy voice echoed weakly in the dark room as he lost himself to the hypnotic haze, surrendering the last vestiges of his former self. His useless nub stiffening, his holes aching with need as he excitedly braced for the life he nearly escaped.

He spots her across the living room before anyone else really registers she’s arrived. New face, effortless confidence—his kind of challenge. He takes a second, smooths his shirt, then crosses the room like he already knows how this ends.

“Hey,” he says, easy smile, leaning just enough to feel close without crowding. “You look like you’re deciding whether this party’s worth staying at.”

She glances at him, amused but unreadable.

“I was,” she says. “Still am.”

He chuckles, unfazed. “Give me five minutes. I’ll make it worth it.”

She tilts her head. “You always open like that?”

“Only when I’m right.”

“Confident.”

“Usually rewarded for it.”

“Usually,” she echoes.

He grins, holding eye contact. “Stick around. You’ll see.”

She doesn’t answer. Just watches him, an amused smirk forming on her face. Jake returns the smirk- god she was hot. He couldn't wait to make her...

“Not my type.”

That actually lands. Jake blinks, thrown off, but only for a second. His smile returns quick, “Alright, maybe I started off wrong. Name’s Jake.”

“Lena.”

“So what is your type?”

Her eyes travel over him, slower this time. “Bulky guys aren’t really my thing.”

Jake scoffs, rolling his shoulders. “How can you not be into muscles?”

He flexes his arm, showing off muscle that no woman could resist. Only the peak isn’t as full, the sleeve of his shirt hanging just a bit looser than it did a minute ago. He catches it, but maintains the smile. Figures the lighting is off.

She looks at him, unimpressed, “I said what I said.”

He smirks, leaning closer. “I’m more than just muscle, you know.”

“Mhmm... Doubt that.”

"Yeah?” he smirks, "Give me a chance and I'll prove you wrong." He readjusts his shirt, barely registering how it no longer clings tightly to his chest.

“I'm good." She shrugs, "All that body hair isn't winning you any prizes with me."

Jake huffs a laugh. “What? C’mon! That’s what makes me a real man.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” he says, glancing down as he casually drags his thumb along his forearm- then pauses.

The dark hair there looks… lighter. Thinner. He rubs again against increasingly smoother skin.

“That's... that doesn't make sense.” he mutters, forcing a grin, though his fingers linger.

His other hand comes up, brushing his jaw. He paused. His usual rough stubble is... gone. Like he just shaved. His confidence flickers and he feels a cold shiver run through him as his chest prickles under his shirt.

Jake straightens abruptly. “Woah that's not...” Lena is smiling, a predatory look in her eye, "I... wait here, I'll be right back" He chuckles, nervously- mind racing. He needed a mirror. Just to check. To confirm.

He takes a half step back. Lena leans in just slightly, smiling.

“No, stay,” Her voice lifts. “I’m enjoying our little conversation.” She runs a hand along his smooth jaw, "Please." Jake feels his heart flutter, "Just relax, tough guy."

Jake grunts as the tension drains out of him. He should be on edge. He was on edge. But he feels his posture soften, weight shifting onto one leg, hips angling slightly without permission. His stance opens up. Less guarded, more… inviting.

“Wh-what?”

His lower back arches subtly as he shifts. His stance now blatantly emphasizing his ass. Jake stiffens at that, registering just how exactly he looked standing there.

“No way...” he mutters, trying and failing to address his stance, "I look so..."

He tries to square himself again. To stand with the same commanding presence he usually did. But the adjustment slips, settling back into that same relaxed pose. His ass jutting out, begging for attention.

“You did ask me what my type was." Jake's eyes widen as he realizes he's standing at eye level with Lena now, "But it's so much more than the physical. I like guys who know how to be vulnerable."

Jake swallows, “I mean... yeah, I can be vulnerable,” he says, but it comes out softer, less certain. His shoulders pull in as he talks, frame narrowing further, “It’s just, like... I don’t usually say this stuff out loud, I just kinda… push it down, you know? Be a man about it...” He freezes, “Why am I saying this?” His voice jumps... higher. Whinier.

Lena smiles, "It's okay to open up, Jake."

Jake’s hand flies to his throat. “Okay, no... like why does my voice sound like this? This's not... like, not my voice.” It spikes again, edging toward a whine.

"Jake?" He recognizes that voice, "Dude, what the fuck?"

“Brett!” Jake blurts, cringing at the pitch of his voice, but relief floods in anyway. “Oh my god... thank god you noticed! Something’s like… totally wrong!”

Brett steps in close, brow furrowed. “What happened to you, man?”

“I don’t know!” Jake says quickly, voice light and uneven. “She just, like... started saying stuff and now I’m...”

A sharp snap. Brett goes still. His expression melts, eyes half-lidded, mouth slack. Drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Jake stares, “What? Brett?”

He grabs Brett’s arm instinctively and pauses. His fingers press into Brett’s bicep, lingering a second too long. There’s a flicker of something... appreciation?

Jake jerks his hand back and spins towards Lena, “Like, what did you do to him?!”

Lena barely glances at Brett. “Don’t worry about him,” she says smoothly. “Focus on something more fun. Like gossip… or cute guys.”

Jake tries to hold onto his panic, but her voice threads through it, steady and impossible to ignore. His thoughts begin to blur at the edges, like something is quietly wiping them clean, and before he can latch onto what he’s losing, new ones slip in—lighter, easier, strangely compelling. He finds himself wondering who’s attractive, who gets attention, who deserves it.

Behind him, Lena leans toward Brett, whispering into his ear. Jake turns without meaning to... and this time, he really looks. The line of Brett’s arms, the way his shirt fits across his chest, the way his slacked jaw and dim eyes look.

“Oh wow.” Jake’s breath slows and he licks his lips.

He'd seen Brett in the locker room after games. Knew what he was packing. He never thought much about that. But now? God... he wanted it now. He wanted Brett.

“Now you’re more my type,” Lena looks over Jake carefully, satisfied. “But I doubt I’m yours.”

Jake blinks, still looking at Brett, something warm and fluttery settling in his chest. He lets out a soft, airy laugh, barely even thinking about it.

“Yeah, I mean… like… no offense, but… yeah.” He winces slightly at how natural that felt.

Lena smiles. “So tell me... what is your type?”

Jake doesn’t hesitate this time. He glances back at Brett, eyes lingering, a small, giddy smile slipping through. “I mean… Brett,” he says, almost giggling. “Obviously.”

"He's kinda cute."

“Kinda? Bitch, he's hot." Jake can't believe the words leaving his mouth, but they don't stop, "So like... we're..."

"Besties." Lena grins, "I needed a new gay bestie anyway." She looks over at Brett and snaps her fingers, "And what are besties for?"

Brett's face contorts and settles. The dull look in his eyes shifting as he looks over Jake. Replaced by something hungrier. Jake watches as Brett steps closer, slow, deliberate. His eyes stay locked on Jake.

“Hey,” he says quietly, voice lower than Jake remembers. “You look… different.”

Jake giggles, “Different good, right?”

Brett’s hand comes up, hesitating just a second before brushing along Jake’s waist. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Really good.”

Jake inhales sharply, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans, eyes flicking up through his lashes.

“Wow, okay…” he says, half-giggling. “You’re, like, being really forward right now.”

Brett smirks faintly, closing the space between them. “You don’t seem to mind.”

Jake bites his lip, heat rushing to his face. “I mean… I don't.”

“My room’s just upstairs,” Brett murmurs, leaning in slightly. “You wanna check it out?”

Jake lets out a soft, breathy laugh, glancing back at Lena for half a second before looking up at Brett again. “I mean… yeah,” he says, voice light and a little giddy, fingers brushing Brett’s arm. “Lead the way.”

Lena watches for a beat, satisfied, “Have fun, you two!”

--------------

Jake moans loudly as Brett slams into him from behind. He arches his back, pushing his fat ass further along Brett's length. His own cock, smaller than he remembered it being, throbbing uselessly. But he doesn't care. Not when he can feel Brett balls deep inside him.

"Fuck yes," Jake gasps out, hands fisting in the sheets beneath him. "Harder, Brett. Fuck me harder." Brett grunts, gripping Jake's hips as he picks up the pace, "Oh fuck!"

Jake couldn't help but cry out in ecstasy each time Brett bottomed out. The same kinda sounds he imagined Lena making if the night had gone differently. But now? His world was narrowing, focused only on the feeling of the dick pounding into his thicc, juicy ass. Because for Jake, nothing else mattered in this moment - not his pride, not his former identity. And it never would again.

You look at the studs in your fingers, wondering where they came from. You start thinking how cool you could look in them, it’s not like your brother would know. You hold them up to your ears and look yourself over in the mirror, thinking how cute you are, but to your surprise, the studs shoot into your ear lobes as if they were magnetised. You should be considering how this happened, and how to undo it before your brother gets back.

Suddenly you feel pleasure fill your body. You feel so good and big. You look down and see yourself further off the ground than before. The socks on you feet rip apart as your feet grow out. Your legs begin growing as well, getting so big your jeans rip into pieces. There’s a shot of pain in your butt as a big bouncy bubble butt shoots out from your once flat butt, which breaks your speedo’s. You can see your dick grow out from a measly 3" out into a throbbing 10". Your top gets tighter until it begins to shred and starts tearing until there’s into nothing left. Your chest and body are exposed and you can properly take in how much you’ve grown. The fat you once had has been absorbed into the new muscular body. Your chest begins to feel hot and bubbly. You stare down to see as your abdominals bubble into a hot six-pack, only to be overshadowed as two massive pecs inflated above. You can’t explain it, you were hot and sexy but you needed a better look. You put a towel around you and rush out to the bathroom to see yourself better. You take in the new sight of you in its entirety. You notice your face has re-shaped slightly, and your hair has got short and spikey, just like you big bro’s.

As you begin thinking of all the hot guys you can get with this body or even better standing up to your bully brother, you barely notice your big bro at the back of the room smirking as you flex in the mirror. He wanders behind you and plops a cap on your head, pushing it down tight before spinning it backwards slowly. You want to protest but you can’t, as if your under some spell. As the cap turns on your head, you sense your smarts drain out. You’re getting dumber, before you were an A+ student and now, C- at best. Your favourite subjects were chemistry and IT, but as the cap turned those changed and now your favourite subject is sports. The former subjects, like every other subject, became boring for you. Nerdy hobbies became inferior to your new hobbies, which were partying and working out, though you enjoyed a little bit of gaming but only cool games like CoD. Your personality changed as well, you thought about how good it was now to be a jock, to be dumb and hot. You thought about all those poor nerds who pretended that being smart was good but then thought about how punchable and weak they were, they asked to be bullied. Finally your attraction to men and male physique drifts. Women and their tight pussies, their bouncy boobs and thin bodies are what turn you on now. Your mind began thinking about chicks putting their lips around your new 10" thrill drill. The idea of a dude sucking you off repulsed you, gay shit was weird and lesser. Unless it was one your bro’s of course since that wasn’t gay.  

As the cap turned full one-eighty, your mind settled. This was you now, a dumb horny straight jock, just like your big bro, who put his arm around you smiling. He invited you out to some party later, where there would be plenty of babes to bang.