The Great Archives

With a pep in his step and a beaming grin on his face, Javi strut down the hotel hallway with his bag in tow. The annual vacation with Tom was the one thing that he looked forward to more than anything— he and his childhood best friend made plans every year since they had graduated high school, each destination getting more and more exciting. In just ten years, they’d visited six new states and four countries. It was a far cry from their summers in rural Indiana, and each time was a new opportunity to relive those days of playing the PS3 at his house until 4 in the morning and spending every waking hour together surrounded in laughter and excitement. Now, as the lovely New York City hotel rolled out the red carpet to room 1709, the simple task of pressing his room key on the door and the click of the door unlocking marked the beginning of his yearly respite. Javi pressed his hand against the door, and pressed it wide open.

"You're early," Tom said, his voice gruffer than Javi had ever heard it.

Javi looked up from his phone, his heart skipping a beat. The hotel room looked normal, just as the website had advertised, but something was definitely off. The lights were dimmer, the air thick with an unusual musk. And there, snapping a selfie in the mirror, was Tom. Or at least, someone who looked like Tom, but this Tom was… different. His skin was covered in a fine layer of hair, his body bulging with muscles that seemed to have been photoshopped on overnight. Javi's eyes lingered on his friend's feet, noticing the way his toes curled and flexed in those dirty, sweaty black socks. He couldn't explain why, but he felt a strange mix of fear and excitement.

"What the fuck happened to you, man?" Javi's voice cracked as he took a tentative step closer. Tom's reflection in the mirror smirked, turning to face him with a swagger that was entirely foreign to him. His warm brown eyes had a feral glint to them, his teeth baring wide in a snide smirk. Javi stood frozen in place, unsure of what to do… what to say… what to think.

"You like what you see?" Tom's tone was laced with an arrogance that made Javi's cheeks burn. He couldn't help but nod, his eyes darting back to those bulging muscles and the way the fabric of Tom's jockstrap strained against his shockingly massive bulge. The smell in the room was intoxicating, a buttery stink wafted off every inch of Tom's chiseled body. Something that sent a thrill down Javi's spine and made his knees weak as Tom stepped forward, his socks squelching with every footfall and leaving a trail of sweaty footprints as he strode forward. The walk, the voice, the fact that his formerly 5'8" band geek friend was now suddenly at least 6'0" and hulked out… There was an innate panic that swelled within him, but just the carnivorous eyes that New Tom flashed at him had Javi shuddering.

Tom stepped closer, and Javi found himself backpedaling until his knees hit the bed. "Yeah, I know you do," he said with a cocky grin, his teeth gleaming like a frat boy who had just scored a winning touchdown. "I've seen the way you look at me, the way you follow me around with those puppy dog eyes." He leaned down, his breath hot and minty on Javi's cheek. "I've seen you staring at my feet, Javier. How much you want to kiss them?" His words were a taunt, a challenge wrapped in a velvet threat that made Javi's cock throb.

Javi's heart raced as he tried to form a coherent sentence. "T-Tom, what happened to you?" He swallowed hard, his eyes glued to the bulge in Tom's jockstrap. "You're not acting like yourself."

Tom flexed his biceps, his muscles rippling like waves under the dim hotel room light. He let out a deep, guttural laugh that seemed to shake the walls of the room like an earthquake. "You think?" He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, let me tell you, the old Tom is gone, baby. This is the new Tom, and boy, do you ever look like you're going to love him." He winked, his new, alpha-male persona oozing out of every pore.

Javi felt his body betraying him, his own cock straining against his pants as he took in the sight of Tom. He had always had a thing for jocks, for the way they could make him feel so… small, so insignificant, yet so desired. And now, here was his best friend, his secret crush, transformed into the epitome of masculine dominance. He could feel his resistance crumbling like a cookie in a vice, and as much as he wanted to flee, his ass remained rooted to the spot.

"T-Tom, this isn't funny," Javi stammered, his voice a mix of fear and arousal. "You need to go to the doctor, something's seriously wrong."

Tom just snickered, the sound sending a cold shiver down Javi's spine. He took a step closer, and before Javi could react, his massive, hairy hands grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him onto the bed. The mattress groaned under the weight of Tom's new form, and Javi found himself pinned down, the scent of his friend's sweat and musk enveloping him.

"There's nothing a doctor can do for me, Javier," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "This is who I am now. And it's about time you admitted who you really are, too." Tom's grip on Javi's chin tightened, forcing their faces closer together, his breath hot and minty. Javi's eyes searched Tom's, looking for some semblance of his friend, but all he found was a ravenous hunger that reflected his own hidden desires.

"What the fuck do you mean?" Javi's voice was a whisper, his body trembling beneath the weight of Tom's towering form.

Tom's grin widened, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "You know exactly what I mean," he said, his grip on Javi's chin tightening. "You've had the hots for me since we were in high school. Don't even try to deny it." His eyes bore into Javi's, and for a brief moment, Javi could see the flicker of the old Tom, the one who had been his confidant, his ally. But then it was gone, replaced by the cold, hard stare of the new Tom. The one who was in complete control.

"You're wrong," Javi protested feebly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tom's grip on his chin tightened, his thumb tracing the line of Javi's jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the power behind it. "Am I?" His eyes searched Javi's, looking for the truth that they both knew lay just beneath the surface. "You've been pining after me for years. Now's your chance to show me how much you want this." His breath was hot and minty on Javi's face, the scent of his minty breath mingling with the musky aroma of his body.

Javi's mind raced, trying to piece together how Tom could have changed so much in such a short time. It was impossible, it had to be some kind of prank, or maybe a really good costume. But the feel of those muscles beneath his fingers, the way Tom's body seemed to radiate heat and power, it was all too real. He tried to fight the urge to kiss him, to touch him, but his body was already responding, his cock straining against his pants.

Tom's grin grew wider, his eyes never leaving Javi's. "Feeling a little excited, are we?" His hand slid down to Javi's crotch, giving his erection a squeeze through the fabric. Javi's eyes went wide with shock and arousal. He couldn't believe this was happening, but the proof was in the way his body was begging for more. "Told you," Tom said, his voice a low purr. "You can't resist New Tom can you?"

Javi's mind raced, trying to find some rational explanation. He'd seen prosthetics in movies, maybe Tom had gotten really into cosplay. The smell of his sweat, the way his muscles bulged, it had to be a silicone suit. It had to be. He took a deep breath, steeling himself against the fear that had been building up. "Okay," he murmured. "Okay, Tom. I get it. You're just… playing a role."

Tom leaned in closer, his grin turning predatory. "You want to play along?" he whispered. "You want to find out who's really in charge here?"

Javi nodded, his eyes wide and filled with a mix of trepidation and excitement. The musky scent of Tom's body washed over him, making his head spin. He could feel the heat emanating from his friend's body, the power in every inch of him, and it was intoxicating. Tom grinned wickedly, rising to his feet and strutting over to the chair.

"Come on, then," he said, gesturing to his socks with a jerk of his head. "Take them off, I want you to get a good whiff."

Javi's cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and desire as he slid off the bed and onto his knees. He felt the plush carpet against his skin, the fibers sticking slightly to the sweat that had gathered on his body. As he crawled towards Tom, the room felt hotter, the air thick with the scent of unwashed socks and virile musk, something that was making his cock throb even more insistently. He reached out tentatively and took hold of the top of Tom's sock. The fabric was warm and damp, and he could feel the outline of Tom's toes through it. His stomach fluttered as he tugged it down, revealing the hairy, sweaty arch of his friend's foot.

"Look at them," Tom said, raising one of his massive, muscled legs and pointing a toe at Javi's face. "These are what you've been dreaming about, aren't they?" The room was so silent, it was as if the very walls held their breath. The smell of Tom's unwashed feet hit Javi like a truck, a powerful aroma of butter and roquefort that seemed to fill every molecule of the air around them. The sight of those size 15 soles, glistening with sweat and grime, had him feeling lightheaded with a mix of fear and arousal.

Tom's toes curled and flexed, the muscles in his legs bulging like those of a Greek statue come to life. He placed his foot firmly against Javi's cheek, his toes digging into the side of his face. "Worship them," he ordered, his voice a thunderclap of dominance that reverberated through Javi's body. And despite his racing thoughts, despite his better judgment, Javi found himself leaning in, his nose brushing against the furry, sweat-soaked arch of Tom's foot.

The scent was… indescribable. It was like a symphony of manliness, a concert of musk and sweat that played a siren's song to Javi's deepest, most secret desires. It was the smell of power and strength, of a man that knew no bounds, that could take what it wanted with no apologies. It was a scent that made him feel small and helpless, ensnaring him like a moth to a flame. He took a deep, shuddering breath, the odor filling his nose and mouth, coating his tongue. It was thick and heavy, with notes of gym socks and washed rind cheese, of locker room floors and the faint hint of something… animalistic. It was a scent that made his cock throb, his knees wobble, and his heart race.

Tom's voice was like a serpent whispering sweet nothings into his ear, urging him closer, deeper into the rabbit hole. "That's it, baby," he crooned, his toes sliding along Javi's cheek, the calloused skin leaving a trail of heat. "Sniff them, lick them, show me how much you love these stinking, sweaty dogs." The words were a command, a declaration of ownership that Javi found himself obeying without thought. He leaned in, his nose buried in the high arch of Tom's foot, inhaling deeply. The scent was overwhelming, but as he let his tongue snake out to slide across the slick sole, he found it… delicious. The salt of his sweat, the faint cheesy tang of his skin, it was a feast that had Javi's mouth watering. He licked along the length of Tom's foot, from his heel to the base of his toes, savoring every inch, every taste.

"Mm, yes," Tom murmured, his foot pressing harder against Javi's face. "You've always been such a good boy, haven't you?" Javi couldn't help but moan into the arch of Tom's foot as he continued to worship the musky flesh before him. "But now, you're going to see just how good I feel in this body." Tom leaned back in the chair, his muscled chest heaving with each breath, his abs rippling like a mountain range.

With a swift kick, Tom sent his other foot flying through the air, the smell of his sweat-soaked sock smacking Javi right in the face. "Take them off," he said, his voice a growling command. Javi's eyes watered, but his hands were already moving, eager to obey. He peeled the sock off, the fabric sticking to Tom's skin with the suction of a vacuum seal. He held it up to his nose, inhaling the potent stench of his friend's foot.

"Now put them on," Tom said, his foot still pressing down on Javi's head. Javi took the sock, his heart racing, and slid it onto his own foot. It was like sliding into a warm, wet glove that had been marinating in a frat house's lost and found. The fabric clung to his toes, the scent of Tom's sweat enveloping him. He took a deep breath, the smell of his friend's feet filling his nostrils and making his cock throb even harder. He couldn't believe what he was doing, but he also couldn't believe how much he liked it.

"Good boy," Tom said, his voice filled with a smug satisfaction that made Javi's stomach flip. "Now the other one." Javi obeyed, his hands shaking slightly as he slipped the other sock onto his foot. The smell was overpowering, a heady mix of musk and sweat that made him feel like he was inhaling pure, concentrated masculinity.

Tom's foot remained planted on Javi's head, his toes digging into his hair like they were anchors holding him in place. "Now, sniff them," he ordered. "Let me hear how much you love the smell of your new master's stench." Javi brought his best friend’s foot to his nose, his eyes rolling back in his head as the damp, sticky sole pressed against his nose. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding as he inhaled the scent that seemed to fill his very soul with a dark, delicious hunger.

“Ahhh fuck, Tom. Shit that’s so good.” With every suction of the thick miasma wafting now from both Tom’s foot and his own, he fell deeper and deeper into the thralls of lust. Letting his hand slide past the waistband of his shorts, the touch of his sweaty fingers gliding against the throbbing meat within made him gasp, droplets of Tom’s ripe sweat soaring into his lungs. Before he could take the initiative to pump, an even firmer pressure against his length was felt on his pleading groin. Opening his eyes, Javi could have burst just from the sight of it: Tom’s wicked smirk and his grimy left foot rubbing him through the pre soaked fabric.

“Such a good boy, Javi. I think I may deserve a treat, don’t you think?” Tom’s devilish grin sent shivers down Javi’s spine, and all he could do was nod in affirmation as the sweaty foot gently slid back and forth. “Yeah. I deserve a treat. I deserve you, Javi. Are you willing to give me my treat?” A guttural moan burst from his lips, the flavor of Tom’s sole against his face breaking any notion of resistance. He cried out with a muffled ‘mmhmm,’ desperation deep in his tone. That’s all Tom needed to hear.

It started as an ever so quiet little squeak, barely perceptible to the enraptured Javi. Though as he continued to lap at the slick sole, it wasn’t the wet squelches or the rubbery stretching that echoed in the hotel room that caught his attention; no, it was the sole. The way it started undulate, to bubble and warp beneath the smelly skin— Javi opened his eyes to see just what was truly happening. Tom’s sweat drenched boxer briefs, pulled down just below the pendulous balls, his long uncut shaft bulging and warping before his eyes as a grotesquely bulbous lump began to squirm up the length of his cock.

“Awww yeah. Javi, I’m gonna love it in there. You’re gonna love it too.” Tom’s teeth gritted with euphoric fervor as the bulge breached the tip of his stretching cockhead, wiry gray hairs slithering out wet and shellacked to the wrinkled, albeit handsome head of a man he did not know. Javi froze, the funk wafting from the feet his only comfort as the cock bloated and gaped around a vascular neck and broad shoulders. His eyes darted between Tom’s still smirking and wicked face and the hulking muscular man slithering out of his urethra.

“Oh… ohhh… unghhh…” The moans of pleasure that bellowed out of Javi’s mouth made Tom’s smirk widen as he continued to rub Javi’s throbbing appendage. Javi couldn’t process the surreal sight of the muscular man crawling out of his rod, down his thick, hairy legs toward him. As the man’s calloused hands pushed Tom’s foot from his face and his round rump and slimy cock sprang from the engorged slit, Javi’s mouth sat agape in mind numbing shock.

“Give me my treat, Javi.” Tom laughed wickedly as the man’s first few fingers slipped past Javi’s lips without so much as a gag of resistance. The taste of Tom’s cum coating the man’s form flavored his tongue with the sweetness of pineapple and tang of spunk as the man’s hands squeezed into his mouth— then his forearms, then his head… no pain, no discomfort, just… surrender. Once the foothold was established, the man’s arms thrust deeply down his bulging throat and into his core, it took little more than a firm tug for the man to slurp the rest of his chiseled form into Javi’s yielding body.

His cock tightening back to its thick, 9.5 inches as the last of the man’s ripe stinking size 15 feet slopped out of his slit, Tom let his head fall back onto the back of the chair as he wrapped his own hand around the length. He snickered to himself, listening to the schlorp and squelch of the man’s toes squeezing past Javi’s lips. The very same euphoria that overcame him when the leather daddy had dominated and entered his own body in the LaGuardia bathroom merely hours before was now overtaking Javi as the man made himself at home within his second body. Though it was not truly Tom in drivers seat behind those big brown eyes, he reveled in the addition of his host’s best friend into the cavalcade of identities merged into his consciousness— one more body to enjoy and experience. As he slipped on Javi’s skin, the overwhelming exhilaration of feeling the sensations of two bodies at once flooded his synapses while he pumped and smugly admired the hairy stud he’d created from the blank canvas of Tom’s skin.

“Heh, yeah boy. We’re gonna have some fun.” The sound of stretching rubber and elastic squeaks emanating from Javi’s warping form accompanied the slick, slimy noises of his lazy stroking. Gurgles and murmurs rang out with increasing frequency, mirroring the pace of his hand movements, until he grunted as the man’s head slipped into Javi’s like a silicone mask.

*SNAP*

Silence. Then a wry snicker as Javi stood- now mirroring his 6’4” stature and muscular, with the stench to boot. He towered above Tom, tugging on the elastic skin of his cheeks before they snapped into place, permanently.

“You gonna just stand there, or are you gonna join me?” Tom chided as he watched himself flex Javi’s thick, muscular arms- sweat dripping from his hairy armpits. His new acquisition still pouring in the body’s memories and incorporating them into his dominant consciousness; Javi leaned in, his tattooed hands landing squarely on either side of him on the armrests.

“Yeah, let’s have some fun.” Javi’s formerly sweet and innocent voice now thick with his gravel and grit, he sneered as their lips collided and tongues tangled.

———

“He’s on his way.” Javi leered as he fell backward onto his couch, kicking his funky, three week worn socks onto Tom’s lap as he sipped the last of his beer.

“You take the front, I’ll take the back. Nice spit roast for us.” Tom placed the empty Heineken on the table, resting his own identically ripe feet on either side of Javi. “Suckin’ and fuckin’, all at once. That’s the good shit.” Three weeks of wild debauchery in New York, and he had all but mastered the art of piloting two vessels at once. Tasting two brews simultaneously, savoring the buzz of poppers from two perspectives, feeling the tightness of latex on Javi and the creaks of leather on Tom… Manhattan had proved to be quite the training grounds for him. He wasn’t planning on letting that education go squandered.

“I know. That little twink won’t know what squeezed into him.” Javi smiled wryly, wriggling his toes beneath the grimy socks. “But until he gets here, give Javi some attention. The twink shouldn’t be the only one to enjoy him.” Tom grinned, letting his hands grip onto Javi’s damp foot, pulling it close to press against his face. “But you know, two is a party- three is a rave.”

"This body feels so powerful, Master." The hot young stud said as he looked at his sweaty body and flexed his muscles as if trying it for the very first time.

I was just walking around the park when I came across a group of young men playing football, most of them were unattractive, but one of them caught my attention the most. He was tanned and fit like a Greek god, his muscular arms and thick thighs moved so effortlessly as he ran and scored a goal.

I quickly grabbed the vial out of my pocket and freed my small alien slime.

"Take him, buddy. Make him mine."

My obedient pet crawled away towards the stud. The slime was so fast that no one saw when he crawled up the stud's muscular leg and disappeared under his shorts. The young man didn't have time to react; he froze for a second, his muscles tensed and his head thrashed back as his eyes rolled back. And then, his head moved back forward but now with a blank face.

"Gonna take a piss guys." He said to his friends as he walked away. I smirked and followed right behind him.

Now we're at a secluded area of the park away from his friends. This spot is really deserted, so I don't have to worry about people seeing us. I sat on a rock while the stud hovered over me like a perfect statue. I can feel his sweat droplets cascade all over me. What a sight!

"What are you waiting for, Master? Don't you wanna sniff my musky balls?"

My cock throbbed wildly at the sound of his words. Without hesitation, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his shorts and underwear, yanking them down in one swift motion. His massive, heavy cock sprang free, bouncing heavily—even soft, it was impossibly thick and long, a veiny monster that could only belong to a sexy stud like him. His balls hung low and full, swollen with that intoxicating, powerful musk that hit me like a drug. I couldn't hold back; I dove in face-first, burying my nose right between his dick and those heavy sacs, inhaling deeply as the raw, masculine scent flooded my senses—sweaty, earthy, utterly addictive.

I took a long, greedy whiff of his musky balls, my tongue darting out to lap at the salty sweat beading on his skin. He stood there motionless at first, towering over me like a god, but soft moans and deep groans rumbled from his chest as I worshipped him. I traced every ridge and wrinkle with my tongue, sucking gently on the loose skin, savoring the tangy flavor that made my head spin. His huge, veiny cock responded instantly, swelling and hardening right before my eyes, throbbing to its full, intimidating 10 inches—rock-hard, pulsing with heat, the thick shaft was laced with bulging veins.

My hands gripped his muscular thighs for support as I lost myself in his balls, but suddenly, his strong hands clamped onto both sides of my head, fingers tangling roughly in my hair. I glanced up, confused and breathless, meeting his intense gaze.

"Master, this body... it's so fucking horny. I can't control his sex drive... I'm sorry," he growled with raw hunger.

Before I could respond, he shoved that thick, throbbing cock straight down my throat in one brutal thrust. I gagged at the invasion, the sheer girth stretching my lips wide and filling my mouth completely, but I didn't pull away—fuck no, being skull-fucked by this sexy young stud was pure ecstasy. He held my head firm and started pounding away, his hips snapping forward with relentless force, ravaging my throat like it was his personal fucktoy. Each deep plunge buried my nose in his thick, wiry bush, the musky pubes even more potent than his balls—damp with sweat, scratching against my skin as I inhaled desperately, my eyes rolling back in overwhelming pleasure. Saliva dripped down my chin, mixing with the precum leaking from his slit, and I choked on every inch, my throat convulsing around him as he grunted and thrust harder, faster, his heavy balls slapping rhythmically against my chin.

He face-fucked me mercilessly, his grip tightened and I could feel his body tensing, his breath coming in ragged bursts, until suddenly he yanked out with a wet pop. His hand flew to his slick shaft, stroking furiously—veins bulging, head flared and glistening—before he exploded. Thick ropes of hot, sticky seed shot across my face in powerful spurts, coating my cheeks, lips, and forehead in his creamy load. I gasped, tongue darting out to taste his essence.

He was panting hard now. "Was I too rough, Master? I'm sorry."

I stood up and stroked his pecs. "No need to apologize. I kinda like it. Let's go home, I want you to fuck me just as rough."

"Yes, Master."

Since that day I've been having plenty of fun with the stud whose name I learned was Ravi. My pet slime programmed what was left of his brain so that every time he played football with his friends, he would come straight to my place so I could lick his body clean and then fuck me for hours.

At the end of each fuck session, he would walk away even more sweaty than when he walked in.

If the Shoe Fits

Step into our new shower my boy, this should make you into what you desire. He did and as soon as the water hit him, the changes began. His skin became black and shiny, he felt himself begin to shrink, his body seemed to be sucked down to hits feet, his mind and control disappearing soon his arms split on on either side of his feet now, they turned silver and shiny a they stretched into an o shape and quickly became fused to the sides of his feet., his heel extended and became rubber, his toes fused together soon his face disappeared into his new leathered feet, he could no longer see but he could feel and smell. within minutes the man was gone, all that remained was a perfect pair of harness boots.

Soon he was no longer in the shower but in a dressing room, his new owner was about to slide him on, no socks, he could feels his warm feet caress up against him. He wondered who was wearing him now until he heard someone call out Ross. The photoshoot was ready and he had on what would become his new favorite pair of boots. The boots would worship the sweat and stink Master Ross would leave in him, he'd always look amazing whenever he put him on which was most nights.

The man leaning against the tiled wall gave Simon a lazy smirk as he walked in. Simon just wanted to wash his hands before heading back to his date; the guy was making him uneasy. "Alright, mate?" the stranger slurred, his eyes roaming over Simon's body with a thick, predatory confidence. "Here for the same reason I am, I reckon." Simon opened his mouth to politely ask what he meant, but the man cut him off. "Good to see you're already dressed for it. That hoodie looks right comfy." Simon blinked. He wasn't wearing a hoodie. He was wearing his favorite button-down. But when he looked down, the crisp cotton was gone, replaced by thick, black fleece stained with paint and God knows what else. A flicker of panic tried to start in his chest, but it was instantly smothered. Yeah, this was his work hoodie. Been wearing it all day. The fuck was he thinking?

The stranger pushed off the wall, stepping closer. The air around him was heavy with the smell of cheap lager and sweat. "Always said you should get your fuckin' hair cut short like that. Suits ya. Makes you look like a proper hard man, innit?" he said, reaching out and roughly rubbing Simon’s head. The hair felt like coarse bristles. Simon’s... no, Ben’s mind supplied the memory of sitting in the barber’s chair last week, telling the bird to take it all off with the clippers. He could feel the solid, heavy weight of work boots on his feet instead of his loafers. A phantom ache settled into his muscles, the satisfying burn of a full day of hauling plasterboard. The stranger sniffed the air near his neck. "And you fuckin' stink, mate. All musky sweat and fags. Drives me mad." Ben took a whiff of his own armpit. The acrid smell was familiar, comforting. It was his smell.

"So," the bloke said, his hand dropping from Ben’s head to his belt buckle. "You gonna stand there lookin' pretty or are you gonna get on your knees like you came here to do?" The question hit Ben's brain and found no resistance. His date, the restaurant, his entire polite life had evaporated, replaced with a simple, throbbing reality: he was Ben, a worker on his break, and he’d slipped into this bog for a quick, filthy hookup. A hot, simple horniness flooded his senses, wiping out any other thought. "Yeah, course," he grunted, his voice a low rasp he didn’t recognize but felt was his own. He dropped to his knees on the grimy floor without a second thought.

The man’s smirk widened as he undid his work trousers, the sound of the zipper echoing off the tiles like a starting pistol. He pulled himself out, and the last vestiges of Simon’s mind screamed. He was huge. Not just long, but impossibly thick, a heavy-veined shaft of flesh that seemed to throb with a life of its own. A rank, animalistic musk wafted from him, a thick fog of sour sweat, stale smoke, and unwashed dick that made Simon’s stomach churn. This was wrong. This was disgusting. He was going to be sick.

"See something you like?" the stranger grunted, grabbing a fistful of Ben's newly buzzed hair and yanking his head forward. "Thought you could use a reminder of what you are." He forced him closer, until the musky stench was all he could breathe. It was suffocating, a physical presence that clogged his throat and sinuses. "Breathe it in, mate. That’s the smell you crave. The stink of a real fuckin' man." His mind rebelled, fighting against the violation, but his body was already betraying him. A hot, unwanted throb started in his own groin. The man shoved his cock against his lips, forcing them open. The taste was as rank as the smell, and a part of Ben wanted to die.

But the man's words were like a virus, rewriting his code. "You fuckin' love it, don't you? Love gaggin' on a proper lad's cock. Love the taste of a hard day's work." The revulsion in Ben’s mind began to curdle, twisting into something else. The musk… it wasn't just foul anymore. It was becoming... intoxicating. Addictive. A primal part of his brain, a part he never knew existed, was lighting up, screaming for it.

His body began to move on its own. He wasn't just being forced anymore; he was sucking. His tongue, once used to articulate arguments, was now tracing the thick veins of a stranger’s cock in a grimy toilet. The last echoes of Simon whimpered in terror as his own hands came up to grip the man’s arse, pulling him closer, needing more of the taste, more of the filthy, overwhelming musk. He was becoming a brainless sack of meat and hormones, reduced to a single, desperate need.

"That's it, you filthy cunt," the man growled, his hips starting to buck. "Show me how much you need it." The words shattered the last of Ben's defenses. He didn't just need it. He was condemned to it. This was his purpose. Like a smoker needs a cigarette, like a junkie needs a fix, he needed this. He needed the filth, the degradation, the overpowering presence of a dominant, musky chav.

The man let out a final, guttural groan, unloading a thick, hot stream of cum down Ben's throat. The sensation was a gunshot in his brain, annihilating every thought, every memory of who he used to be. It was the most intensely pleasurable, mind-breaking moment of his life.

When the man pulled out, Ben was left panting on the floor, drool and semen dripping from his chin, his eyes wide and vacant. His brain was a wasteland, with only two words left standing: musk and cock. "Good lad," the stranger said, zipping up. "Now fuck off, I've got a pint waitin',"

Ben just grunted, wiping his mouth with the back of his calloused hand. His throat was raw, his brain felt scrubbed clean, but the gnawing hunger was already back, ten times stronger. He needed another hit. Fuck, he needed at least two or three more before the day was out. He pulled his phone out, the screen cracked and grimy, and opened Grindr. His profile pic was shit. He needed a new one.

He leaned against the tiled wall, striking a moody pose in the mirror. He snapped a quick selfie, the lad in the reflection looking tough, knackered, and ready for more. Perfect. He set it as his main picture, his mind already racing. But maybe he wouldn't even need the app. He should head back to the worksite. The lads would be packing up soon, all of 'em sweaty and stinking from the day's graft, smelling just like the bloke who'd just used his throat. The thought of getting on his knees for one of them, maybe even getting passed between a few of them while they let him drain their heavy, musky balls before they headed home... it made his dick twitch hard in his filthy trousers. Yeah. That's what he'd do. He just had to get back before they all fucked off for the day.

Marcos was your average college student, he got into school on a soccer scholarship, loved the gym, would go to parties, you know the whole nine miles. That was until now. Marcos was walking down his street after practice going home when some friends were gathered in the street so he decided to say hello.

 “ Wassup! “ he said, to which his friend Thomas replied “ Haven’t seen you in forever dude, yo have you met Cesar? Hes new to the street. “ Cesar was tall, dark, he seemed to be very sweaty even though it was mid fall, and he kept looking at Marcos very weirdly. He noticed that his big arms had scabs on them all over, and a gash on his hand was still healing. 

“ Whats goin on dude? “ Marcos said, trying to break the silence. Cesar just kept looking him up and down and when his and Marcos eyes met he winked at him. Marcos was very uncomfortable if not enough the wink did it. “ Well alright, yo I’ll catch yall later, I gotta get home and get out of these clothes, see yall. “ He dabbed up Thomas and a couple of the other guys avoiding Cesar. The other guys started going the opposite direction from Marcos, when he started to walk home he felt someone grab his arm. It was Cesar.

 “ Why you grabbing me for dude? “ Marcos yelled. Cesar leaned in and said “ I want you and your fat ass. “ Cesar loosened his grip and Marcos pulled his arm back and started to jog away hurriedly. Marcos makes it home and drops his stuff off at the door, while his older brother sits on the couch watching the news. “ Yo come look at this! “ Marcos' brother said. Marcos walks over to see what he's watching. “ Earlier this week the body of a Brownsville college student was found at the site of a car crash. He was found in the passenger side but the location of the driver remains unknown at this time. “ Marcos listened dumbfounded, while his brother was intrigued. “ Can you believe this shit? No way that they weren’t criminals or something. “ 

Marcos looked at his brother then started to walk towards his room. “ There's no way of knowing for sure bro, we don’t know what the hell happened. “ Marcos said. “ I don’t know dude, motherfucker sounds dangerous to me, it's only one town over, he could be here. Hell he could be on this street. “ Marcos closed his door and from his room shouted, “ You watch too much news dude! “ Marcos plopped on his bed and just stared at his ceiling for a second, thinking about what happened. Thinking about the accident, that dude Caesars and his cuts. It all got too much and he sat up and started to take off his bracelets and other shit when he forgot he left his bag out by the front door. Marcos gets up and goes back in the living room now with his brother asleep on the couch with the news still playing. “ Pfft lazy ass. “ 

He goes to the front door to grab his bag when he discovers the door is open. He begins replaying in his mind if he had forgotten to lock the door or maybe he didn’t shut it all the way, maybe it was a gust of wind. He takes a step outside and looks around at the dark street dimly lit by the greenish hue of the street lamps. He comes back inside, closes the door, locks it, and grabs his bag and makes his way to his room. It was probably nothing he thinks he's just paranoid. After all, is the neighborhood he lives in bad? Yes but everyone likes him and his brother so no one would hurt them. He goes back to his room and sets his bag down on his bed, still uncomfortable. Partially because of something he was wearing. Recently after a soccer clete accident with another player's balls, Coach made everyone wear jock straps with cups. Marcos has never worn them so he’s still getting used to them, after all he didn’t want his balls to be crushed. That's when he notices the dirty clothes on the floor have been moved in an area he hasn’t touched yet. He stands up now feeling paranoid again, and slowly walks to his closet thinking obviously that’s where someone could be hiding. He places his hand on the door handle and takes a deep breath, and he opens it fast. No one is in his closet. He exhales in relief, when he turns around he gets punched in the face knocking him out.

 After what felt like a second but was really an hour and a half he starts to come to, now on his bed. His vision is still adjusting but he can make out a shadowy figure in the corner of his room. The figure begins to move closer to Marcos and now he is fully seen. “ Hope your beauty rests was nice, sweet cheeks. “ It was Cesar. “ What the hell are you doing in my house!? “ Marcos shouted. Cesar chuckled laughing at Marcos. “ Cute. You obviously know who I am, when I broke in I noticed you and your brother watching work on the news. And before you ask yes, I’m a criminal, and yes I’m dangerous. Unless you do as I say. “ Marcos looked at Cesar without giving a second thought and said, “ I ain’t doin shit you say, I’m calling the police, people will know if I go missing! “ 

Cesar got closer to Marcos and grabbed his face with one hand firmly and got face to face with him. “ Oh I know that, I’m not going to hurt a single fucking hair on your head, don’t worry. You're too hot to do that to. “ Marcos was wincing and struggling till Cesar let go and pushed his head backwards. “ Besides, the cops have already been called. “ Marcos was confused, why the hell would he call the cops? It doesn’t seem like hes the remorseful type. “ Why would yo- “ Cesar stopped Marcos with his finger to his lips before he could get another word in. “ Shhh, don’t speak, it's clear in our relationship I'll be the one dominating, especially the conversation. I called them to report the murders of your neighbors next door, the old couple. Yeah they’re gone. They saw me following you and recognized me from the newspaper and called the police about a suspicious man outside your home.  But luckily it won’t be known as a murder, I made it seem natural in their death. But the cops are still coming and very slowly may I add, and of course they’ll ask you questions about it. “ Marcos , still very confused, was hesitant to speak so as to not get finger squashed again. “ I can see your confused still, well you're gonna tell them you haven’t seen me. “ Marcos got really angry now that he said that. “ The fuck I am! As soon as they get here I’m finna tell them all of it. “

 Cesar chuckled and began to strip, Marcos once again grew very uncomfortable. “ What the hell are you doing! We are not fucking! I ain’t a fag! “ Marcos shouted. Cesar finally got to his underwear bulge out and looked with a very serious face at Marcos. “ For now. “ Cesar turned around with his ass to Marcos and began to crawl inside of Marcos. Marcos struggled and tried to scream as Cesar's big stinky ass feet were shoved down his throat, feeling every coarse hair on his legs in his throat. “ Don’t struggle, I’ll just enjoy it more. “ Cesar said cheekily. Marcos fell onto his back on the bed grasping his sheets while he was swallowing this man. Cesar's long thick hair thighs were making their way through with his ass in Marco’s face. 

While sliding in to make things easier Cesar ripped a long wet fart right into Marco’s face and mouth, leaving Marcos dazed and less tense. Cesar now had the hardest part to do, fitting his huge dick down in Marcos mouth, which he did after some stretching and pushing. Cesar slid all the way in, Marcos felt disoriented, there was another person inside him, changing who he was. Cesar took advantage of Marco’s vulnerable state and began adjusting himself fully. He shoved his huge feet into Marco’s stretching them to twice their size and the smell before was foul but now was far worse. Hair sprouted out of every toe and smelled as if he’d never washed them before. His legs began to thicken and hair sprouted turning his legs into two tree trunks. The hair swirled up to his ass, burning into his skin a pelt of hair around his asshole, and his ass bubbled up into two huge orbs. 

His arms grew and so did his forests of hair underneath his arms. Reeking of musk and the smell of forty grown men in the body of a nineteen year old. And of course before Cesar could forget he had to adjust his prized asset, his horse cock. Marcos already had a nice set, and if it weren’t for Cesar's sheer size he wouldn’t have to adjust it but after shoving and air thrusting his cock into Marcos cock, he was adjusted to his new nine inches. Cesar began to admire his work, sniffing his feet, feeling his face, and his favorite sticking his finger in his asshole. 

The last thing to do was to get rid of Marcos for good which shouldn’t be an issue for Cesar, he lives to do this. Cesar in Marcos rummaged around Marco’s room until he could find anything to use when he reached under the bed to find a pocket pussy. Cesar stuck his finger inside and sure enough it was used. “ At least you’ll go out doing what you loved Marcos, or should I say what we love. “ Cesar stuck his and Marcos cock into the pocket pussy, gently now that their cocks are one it is twice as sensitive. Marcos' body began to moan and he thrusted into the pussy. Cesar to make things more interesting edged the rim of his new asshole before shoving his fingers in there as he thrusted. Marcos' moans roared louder and louder as the stench in the room skyrocketed, and the sex as well. Marcos' body began to sweat profusely drenching his body in that salty liquid, marinating in all of his crevices, scenting the room. Marcos lifted his arm to his face after taking his fingers out to smell his work. 

Cesar made Marcos slobber and lick his own armpits, swishing the sweat around in his mouth and all over his face. Cesar could feel it he was close, and at this time Marcos was aware his doom was about to happen. With one last thrust and with a moan that could be hear down the block Marcos blew the biggest load ever into the pussy, overflowing it with his liquids and the old Marcos with it. Cesar now fully Marcos collapsed on the bed panting with lust and exhaust. The cum leaking out of the pussy all over his fuckstick now reeking of pure male musk and stench. Marcos rubbed it all over his sensitive tip and everywhere. He bathed himself in his cum. No where was untouched his salty spunk that he would never wash out. “ Holy fuck! I’m a sex machine. “

 He heard a knock at his door and jumped up and threw his jockstrap on and got up to answer the door. He answered the door and there was a constable and a bunch of cops outside next door. The constable looked up from his legal pad and was shocked to see Marcos in a smelly skimpy jockstrap leaving nothing for imagination. “ Uhhhh- “ was all the constable could get out. “ Sorry sir I was busy choking my fat ass cock and fingering myself before you came to the door. How can I help? “ The constable was even more floored by this. "On second thought I think we have all we need thank you. “ The constable scurried off, meanwhile Thomas ran up to him very confused and embarrassed for Marcos. “ Dude what the fuck are you doing? Why are you out here like that, and what the hell is that smell you reek?! “ Marcos grinned while licking his lips. “ Why don’t you find out sweet ass! “ Marcos grabbed Thomas inside the house and all that could be heard was the two fucking the shit out of each others brains. Luckily Thomas was a lot freakier than he led on with Marcos when he was still Marcos. And theres no worry about Marcos brother hearing the two hunks fucking. He’s been dead since Marcos went to his room the first time. But who cares, not like there’s anyone who cares enough to find out. 

Josh was a typical frat brother. His cocky grin rarely left his face, giving way to his pearly smile and easy eyes. His blond hair scattered across his face in a messy but thoughtful manner, and his fit jock build meant few girls on campus didn't have a crush on him. His large set of pecs, subtle dashing of abs, and firm biceps ensured this. Josh was from California and dressed like it too. He loved to show off his golden tan in his well trimmed shorts and Birkenstock sandals. His long toned legs strutted from place to place with a sense of unburdened carelessness. Josh loved his life. He bounced from party to party, girl to girl, and couldn't seem happier.

In the winter, Josh's roommate moved out, however. The two were boys, quickly connecting over going out to drink and watching games back in the dorm. It was a real bummer to have his friend move out. His college would send over someone random, but Josh wasn't one to worry and didn't give his replacement much thought. A few nights later, Josh stumbled back to his dorm from a long night out to find a few bags slumped in the corner of the room. Looks like his replacement was found, though no where to be found in the dorm, so Josh went to bed for the night. Josh was awoken by the clanging of joysticks and an unmistakable odor. Josh was by no means clean, but he took care of himself. This smell was unlike anything else he'd smelt, not even comparable to Josh's time back on the soccer team in high school. As Josh got out of bed, he turn around to meet his new roommate.

Brogan was a giant, practically taking up the other side of the dorm with just his body alone, and it didn't hurt he sprawled his legs out at nearly 180 degrees. Josh was taken aback by his sheer presence but most obviously by his utter lack of clothes. Brogan's large hand obscured his cock but an endless forest of hair. His long hairy toes splayed out grasping at the carpet.

"Oh shit sorry dude, I didn't mean to catch you off guard. I'm Josh nice to meet you."

"Bro you're chilling, fuck, I just like to be comfortable at home, hope you don't mind haha."

Brogan was vapid at best and brain dead at worse. The lumbering oaf didn't have a glimmer of thoughts behind his dull eyes as he spoke to Josh. Josh, admitted weirded out by Brogan's nudity, could bare it. He wasn't new to naked men, he was around them all the time in the locker room, just a little odd to experience it five feet from his dorm bed. Josh and Brogan continued to chat, though not really hitting it off. The social skills of Josh seemed to flounder against the brick wall of Brogan who's full attention seemed to be either his video game or scratching his balls. Fuck it, Josh needed to leave, he'd had enough of thr smell of Brogan. Josh went about his day chatting with friends about his odd new roommate though the wistful Josh eventually pushed it back of mind. Another night of parties and girls was enough to remedy him.

Upon returning to his dorm, Brogan was passed out. The sheets were no where to be found with his hairy body laying on the raw mattress, his hand draped on his dick and loud snores filling the room. Josh kept to his own and simply went out to the bathroom to get ready for bed. As he brushed his teeth, Josh drove his fingers into his mouth to fish out a hair. On further inspection, it was a dark brown pubic hair. "Dude that's so fucking nasty. How the hell did his pube end up in my toothbrush." Josh rinsed his mouth under the sink over and over in disgust. He'd have to talk to this ogre tomorrow about this weird shit. Josh went to bed and rolled his eyes at his new roommate.

In the night, Josh began to toss and turn. The fit jock's body began to elongate, stretch out across the mattress. His feed began to dangle off the bed, increasing in size. His shoulders pushed out and broadened. His thighs becoming more defined. This constant growth was drowned out by snoring harmonized between the two roommates. In a cold sweat, Josh awoke in the late morning. He looked over at Brogan's bed only to find the wrinkled bed empty. Then, Josh looked down at his own now naked body. Josh bolted up in shock. He ran to the bathroom to see his new massive frame. He stumbled over his large feet and almost fell through the door.

Fuck! The once slim jock had put on pounds and pounds of muscle. He frantically looked around the bathroom to cover up, grabbing an old pair of underwear. Oh god it was Brogan's. The pair looked like they'd barely fit around his thick glutes and growing bulge. Any of Josh's underwear were out of the question then. Josh's massive hands took ahold of his phone to snap a picture. This was real.

Josh fit himself into the pair of underwear. The fabric brushed again his dick and it jolted awake. Josh slept around but this was unlike anything he had felt before. It was primal, raw. The underwear strained against his enlarged member as it wrapped around his massive quads. A wet spot quickly formed against the material as pre-cum leaked voraciously. Josh fought against his own instincts in an attempt to make it to class. He threw on some more of Brogan's dirty laundry. His hulking frame shook the ground as he picked up a pair of gym shorts and a loose tank, though the smell didn't seem to both Josh anymore. As he walked to class, Josh couldn't focus on anything. His straining member took his entire attention as he tried to fumble with his bulge to no avail. His gait stretched out awkwardly to adjust for his half hard dick, his big paw like hands tugged at the wet spot in his pants, and he cursed under his breadth only to hear a booming a voice. This mouth breathing version of himself drew the attention of anyone who could see, hear, or smell. Josh continued to panic but his brain felt like it was on overdrive, barely able to form coherent thoughts. Josh's mind just about short circuited when he ran into a scantly clad cross country runner. The twink's firm bubble butt practically fell out of his running shorts fresh off of practice. Josh's dick stood at full mast, punching its way out of his shorts at a massive 10 inches all the while leaking a stream of pre-cum.

Josh ran from campus trying to cover up his rowdy penis. His massive feet carrying his broad shoulders as his pecs bounced with each step. As he ran, his hair darkened from his effortless blonde hair to darker shade of brown. Finally, Josh stopped by the shore and with no one around, he started to jerk off. What was he doing? The jock had no inhibitions, no thoughts, other than trying to relieve himself. He tossed off his clothes, leaving him in nothing but Brogan's tight underwear from before. Nothing felt better than what Josh was doing now, it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Josh's toes curled on the side of the shoreline as he drove his dick into his hands, groaning, practically yelling at this point. Then Josh finished. Streams of cum launched from Josh's foot long penis, rewiring his very brain chemistry. He laid on the ground panting from exhaustion, but he wanted more. Josh's hand, still coated in cum, began to stroke his member once again. Josh was in heavy as he cum over and over and over again. Hours passed like minutes as he coated every crevice of his body in a rich creamy cum. The divots of his defined abs were soaked. His hands dripping. But nothing was enough. Finally, a man caught side of the 6' 3" giant by the shoreside. As the man approached, all he could hear were organismic moans. A meaty hand grabbed Josh by the shoulder, interrupting him mid-ejaculation. It was Brogan.

Rather than being met with shame, Josh proudly turned around, dick in hand.

"Woah, dude, is that you Josh?" Brogan asked. Josh nodded yes, but continued to stroke his dick incessantly. "Haha" Brogan boomed, "You've turned out even better than expected. Come on you dumb fuck, you've got a lot to learn."

The words meant almost nothing to Josh, but Brogan dragged Josh back to their dorm. Josh's dick grotesquely protruded from his underwear as Brogan walked him across campus. The two freaks were hard to not notice, especially as Josh walked back in nothing but underwear.

Back in the dorm, Josh looked at Brogran with nothing but lust as he looked at Brogan. Brogan was overjoyed, "Josh! Look at you man, you're an absolute beast now, haha! Doesn't it feel great just letting everything go, I knew you'd give in to that primal desire, fuck dude, let's fucking go." But Josh stood their drooling both from his mouth and from his leaking penis. All he cared about was flexing and finding something to get off to. "You're not done yet buddy, I've got to teach you a few more things before you're my perfect roomie alright?"

Brogan sat down Josh. The dimly lit dorm and stench ridden sofa were Josh's new forever home. Brogan flicked on the TV. "This'll really drive you mad."

"All I am is porn. I am a worthless gooner. All I know is porn..." Josh continued.

Josh sat there stroking his dick without hesitation. But as he reached his climax, Brogan slapped his hands away. Josh struggled in pain as pre-cum flooded his shaft, but he didn't cum. Brogan released his hands and Josh, still transfixed on the TV continued to stroke. His veiny dick pulsated and grew in girth, but again right before he came, Brogan restrained him. Josh yelled in euphoric agony, his mind grinding down into nothing. Hours went by, and Brogan kept training Josh. As Josh's hands shriveled from the cum that coat his hands, Brogan handed him a pocket pussy. Freshly used and Josh's new best friend -- plastic -- was put to good use, but again right before Josh finished, Brogan stopped him.

"All I am is porn. I am a worthless gooner. All I know is porn..."

Josh sat there, day in and day out, gooning to whatever Brogan flicked on the TV. Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. Josh's once overly muscular body began to slim out as his own exercise was constantly edging himself. Brogan treated Josh just like his personal sex. He would pleasure himself with whatever toys Brogan would provide to him. Whether fucking a plastic pussy and licking his own cum out of it, or rimming himself with a massive dildo, Josh would do whatever it took to cum, but he never could. Right before he cam, his body would shut off, leaving Josh in a state of pleasure and pain. All day and night, Josh would sit on that couch. His facial hair continued to grow out, and his stench only worsened. Brogan didn't mind, however. The drooling fucker made for the perfect roommate.

Josh was nothing more than a pathetic gooner now, Brogan's gooner to be specific. He chased the unending desire for pleasure, only to be stopped right before he could cum. He thought of nothing other than what object nearest him would bring him the most amount of pleasure, only to fall short every single time. His brain had completely turned off. He was desperate, but his body kept him pinned to the couch. Any time he would try and leave, his knees buckled under the organismic pleasure of his dick jolting awake. It needed his constant attention, and Josh could think or do nothing else. Sometimes Josh would pass out, only to wake up with a puddle of pre cum on the sofa. He'd lap up the cum and finger his mouth as he tried to reach ejaculation. Occasionally Brogan would get back from class or playing video games at his desk to sit by Josh. The fiend would dive into his armpits, grabbing onto whatever parts of Brogan he could in a desperate attempt to cum. The freak was fiendish, frantically rubbing his cum soiled body up and down, begging to be fucked harder. Brogan loved when he begged for it.

As the two fucked on the rancid couch, Josh begged for more. Brogan rammed him again and again, shaking the entire dorm, moaning out in pleasure. Josh was nearly there, he whimpered out, "please" the first time he'd spoken an actual word in weeks, begging to be fucked just a little bit more, he was so close he could feel it. Just then, Brogan came inside of Josh, flooding him. Brogan kept going, sliding in and out as cum filling his inside. Josh was on the edge still, feverishly worshipping Brogan. Brogan, again came inside of Josh. Brogan kept going to Josh's delight, but by the third climax, Josh realized he was never going to cum. Brogan had fucked every part of his body as hard as humanly possible, over and over again, but it was not enough. Brogan ripped his foot long penis out of Josh as Josh gushed cum from his leaking hole. Josh had practically passed out, but all the same he was no closer to cumming.

As Josh looked over at Brogan, who had passed out from exhaustion, Josh glanced back at his side of the dorm. His bed looked the same as it did the day he left in Brogan's underwear, untouched since then. Josh, for but a moment, thought about getting up, returning to his bed and returning to his life outside of Brogan. He could barely remember what that life was even like. But these thoughts were quickly erased by the raging boner he had between his legs. And so, rather than getting up, escaping his life on the couch, he reached his left hand into his ass to coat it in Brogan's cum, and began to hopeless jerk off once again. Josh was forever a slave to his primal desires, and forever prey to Brogan, the apex predator.

You stare at Nick from across the room, rolling your eyes as he takes yet another selfie of his new and improved form. Sweat drips from his mop like hair and onto his smooth, shiny skin. Ever since he left Randy, and thank god he did, he’s found a much needed respite in the local gym. He even found a couple of new friends, which of course you’re thrilled about. Seeing him so down and in the dumps for four weeks had you worried about Nick, but ever since the day he walked in through the door with those two giant dudes he met doing CrossFit he had a pep in his step and such a confidence boost. Cooper and Tre had doubled his size and musculature in a matter of days, which to you seemed impossible; but you were too happy for his blooming that you dismissed it as a successful CrossFit regimen.

And yet, this version of Nick that Cooper and Tre had brought out in him was something that gave you a bit of pause. For one, the smell. Showers started to be skipped a couple of times per week, clothes started to be reused time and time again at the gym… Clothes, as well, were being replaced faster than you could keep up with. Nick’s funky, colorful wardrobe had all but been emptied and replaced with athletic wear, sweats, and stringer tanks. You started to recognize your friend less and less. Standing there shirtless, in nothing more than his stinking gym shorts and rank socks, you couldn’t help but worry about him.

That isn’t to say he isn’t your friend anymore- he still laughs and jokes with you, albeit his humor is dirtier and more crass, but it’s good natured. He still goes out with you to the bars and plays wing man, though he does find himself in the bathroom with various hunky men more often than you’d like. He still happily hangs out and games with you on the weekends, though you have to light a couple of candles in the living room to drown out his scent. His scent… that heavy, buttery musk of sweat and unwashed laundry, with a hint of… oddly, fresh latex.

“Yo! Bro, I’m tellin’ you, you gotta come chill with Coop and Tre. Look at this shit!” Nick flexes his tatted arm, the fresh ink from a day or two prior glistens brightly atop the firm bicep. The gentle squeak of his shiny skin not going unnoticed by you.

“Sure man,” you fib, “sounds good.” Your disinterest in hanging with the two brain dead jocks shone through the lies. Nick sees this, the squishing sound of his socks echo in the bedroom as he walks over to you.

“Well, good! Tre is on his way over! Thought we could crack some beers and watch the game.” The game? The gym is one thing, you can wrap your head around the almost therapeutic experience of turning off your brain and just doing simple movements. But football? You raise your eyebrow.

“Since when have you liked football? You hate football.” Nicks face cracks ever so slightly, the first time you know intrinsically you touched on something he didn’t anticipate you to catch. Before he’s able to stutter out some form of reasoning, the knock on the front door saves Nick from your questioning.

“Oh shit, that’s him!” Nick dumbly chuckles to himself and squeaks out of the now ripe bedroom, his stench lingering in the air. You sigh, closing your eyes to take one or two deep breaths. Another smelly dude bro- delightful. The sound of the door opening, and a jovial ‘whassup bruh’ breaks your centering ritual. You stand up and approach the door, only barely hearing the quiet whispering of the two before you enter into the living room- the sight of Tre’s 6’2” jacked body greeting you.

“Whassup, my dude?” Tre’s shirtless form takes you aback, his muscles glistening just like Nick’s. Tre has always been a nice guy, relaxed and always down to kick back and just hang; even if he takes his sneakers off and fogs out the room with his cheesy foot smell, he had been nothing but kind to you. You have no reason to dislike or distrust him, and yet, here you are. You smile with a feigned civility, waving at him. Nick struts over to the kitchen and pulls out three Pacificos for you- one very clearly already opened before he pops the caps off the other two as if you hadn’t noticed.

“Let’s get comfy, boys!” Nick chimes and walks over to hand you your beer as you watch with exasperation as Tre kicks off his Jordans, the scent immediately hitting you like a train. The three of you clink your bottles together, and take a swig. At least, you certainly do. In the periphery of your sight, you see the two of them watch you for a split second before sipping their drinks as well. Nick throws his arm around you, the slickness of his skin immediately reminding you of the feeling of lubed latex as he guides the three of you to the couch, plopping down on it like sacks of potatoes.

Tre flicks his thumb against the remote, the game immediately coming onto your television as if it were playing just before it was last turned off. You continue to sip your beer, your eyes darting between Tre on your right and Nick on your left, both screaming and cheering with every goal. More and more you find that you don’t know Nick anymore, or at least who Tre and Cooper turned him into. An hour passes before halftime finally comes to pass, your Pacifico all but empty at this point. Finally, Nick turns to you, smiling as he sees you couch locked and borderline drunk. It was one drink, how are you feeling so goddamned weird?

“You need another one, bro?” Nick pokes your arm, which you feel compress and collapse against his finger. In the right state of mind, this would have obviously concerned you, but nearly unable to speak, you can do little more than shake your head no. “Yo, Tre. I think it’s setting in.” Nick’s face is bright and elated as he and Tre high five eachother before hopping onto their feet.

“Shit, bruh that didn’t take long at all. Not gonna lie, Coop. I didn’t think you’d be able to pull it off. You good in there?” You furrow your brow in confusion at Tre’s words until Nick slips his fingers into his mouth, pulling firmly until his face starts to peel away like a mask- squeaking and slurping until the face of Cooper beneath is revealed.

“Yeah man, feels amazing like always. Nicks’s givin me all the info I need. Only slipped up once!” The two jocks bump knuckles, before Cooper slithers his way out of Nick’s rubbery body. His feet slap against the floor, as Nick’s face snaps back to normal. Your eyes are open in horror and shock, before Nick shakes his head and reopens his eyes, grinning from ear to ear.

“Fuck yah, bro! Worked like a charm!” Cooper helps Nick to his feet, and the trio of jocks stand before you, their arms crossed and standing wide. “Fuck, man you’re gonna love this shit. I can’t keep hiding this shit from you and not share it!” You watch frozen, unable to move, feeling your body go limp and light as Nick and Cooper walk over to the couch and plop down on either side of you. “Bro, after Randy, I was ready to jump off the balcony. Then these motherfuckers found me at the gym and promised they’d be able to help me. Now look!” Nick flexes his arm, before grabbing his smelly foot and pulling on it. The meaty leg stretches longer and longer, the squeaks of his skin growing into warps until it snaps right back to normal. “What do you guys think? A month? Maybe two?”

“Sounds good, bro. It’ll be good to have you with us, bruh. You’ll be feelin better in no time.” With Tre’s words echoing in your head, you feel Cooper push you head back, letting it rest on the back of the couch before his and Nick’s fingers slip into the corners of your mouth. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull as they stretch it wider and wider, joking about how stretchy you are already. Tre walks around to the back of the couch and looks down at you, his left hand slipping into your wet, tight throat. “Let’s goooo!”

Tre shouts, removing his hand from your throat before gripping either end of the couch, swinging those huge smelly feet above your open maw. It happens quick and easy. The stench of his socks only lingers for one second before they slide across your tongue, the grimy texture making them slide down your throat quickly. His massive body slides inside of you with ease- the outline of his thick legs sliding beneath the skin of your chest and torso. The wet squelches and rubbery squeaks increase in frequency and intensity, as his ripe bulge and thick ass slips into you, your neck bulging wide as you feel his feet squeeze into yours. The skin stretches taut over his size 14’s, and your legs burst with his muscles within.

“Ay, a lil help, bro?” Tre stands up onto your feet, your wide mouth sits suctioned around his lean waist- the salty flavor of his sweat soaked balls sitting on your tongue filling your mouth with his flavor. Coop and Nick jump up as Tre raises his arms up, taking ahold of your ears in their fingers. Slowly, they tug up on your head, encasing his cobbled abs and meaty pecs within your body. You taste the ripe sweat in his wiry pits before his arms slide downward into your mouth, squeezing them deep within you until his fingers are just able enter your shoulders.

“Aight, bro! Pull!” Nick shouts loudly, and in seconds they pull your your head upward even further. You feel Tre’s arms squeeze into your own, and with a single roll of his shoulders, his hands slip into yours like gloves. You see Nick smile with genuine excitement as he pulls your your head over the back of Tre’s, tugging more and more until it snaps over his with a loud crack. You anticipated losing control, fading into black, lost in the ether… you couldn’t be more wrong.

“Ahh shit, lemme just…” Tre’s deep voice bellows out of your mouth, but deep in your mind you hear it as well. “Excuse the reach, bro. One sec.” He plunges your hands into your shorts, and you can feel his monstrous rod slipping and sliding around in your torso. He pulls on your skin, watching it stretch until his tip lines up with the base of your shaft. You’d moan if you could, feeling Tre’s slippery cock filling your own like rolling on a condom. He grunts as it distends your dick to match his 11 inches, his thick balls dropping into your sac with a wet schlorp. Tre stretches in your body, making sure everything is where it needs to be while Nick and Coop grab more beers.

“How… why…. How are you doing this?” Your voice echoes loudly around you. It doesn’t go unanswered, as your body plops right back down onto the couch, swollen with Tre’s musculature. He kicks your feet up onto the coffee table, his ripe foot funk now wafting from your soles.

“Heh, it’s a trip, right?” His voice booms in your head. “Just a lil thing my friend from New Orleans taught me once. Feels good, too.” Nick and Coop drop down onto the couch with a beer for ‘you.’ He takes it with your hand, unfamiliarly large and vascular. “Just sit back and relax, bruh. Let Tre show you how it’s done.” Your three bros clink their beers together, as you’re left to watch out of your eyes as they talk about how dope you’re gonna be.

———

Two months came and went, Tre took a bit longer inside you than had been planned- you two really bonded with him in the drivers seat. The way he swaggered down the street in your body, the way your rubbery skin glistened with his sweat, the musk that flowed from your feet, pits, and balls… you’ve grown to love it. You two talked almost every minute of every day within your mind, the feeling of having a bro with you at all times felt good and safe.

Feeling the thrill of lifting over 200 lbs with relative ease, the euphoria of him plunging your cock into dozens of men’s mouths and holes, the fraternal feeling of jacking Nick off in the sauna after a long lifting session, feeling like a sexy king with men and women drooling at your feet over your natural scent… you almost didn’t want Tre to exit you. When he did, it was bittersweet. Coop and Nick helped pry him out of your now jacked, musky fuckboy body, and it almost felt like on you were holding onto him inside of you. The moment he was out, though, your life really began.

You’re closer than ever with Nick, spending hours at the gym and at the clubs with him, fuckin boys and pumping iron. Every day is filled with crazy antics with the boys, Tre and Cooper are over almost every night kicking back with you, the bond unbreaking and unyielding. Just for yucks, you will squeeze into eachother, pranking eachother or just finding it a damn good way to feel close to your bro. In fact, the other day you fucked the shit out of this lil twink inside of Nick. The minute he walks through that door, you got a date tonight with him. You can’t wait to slip him on and use that dick of his, and he can’t wait either.

You stare at Nick from across the room, rolling your eyes as he takes yet another selfie of his new and improved form. Sweat drips from his mop like hair and onto his smooth, shiny skin. Ever since he left Randy, and thank god he did, he’s found a much needed respite in the local gym. He even found a couple of new friends, which of course you’re thrilled about. Seeing him so down and in the dumps for four weeks had you worried about Nick, but ever since the day he walked in through the door with those two giant dudes he met doing CrossFit he had a pep in his step and such a confidence boost. Cooper and Tre had doubled his size and musculature in a matter of days, which to you seemed impossible; but you were too happy for his blooming that you dismissed it as a successful CrossFit regimen.

And yet, this version of Nick that Cooper and Tre had brought out in him was something that gave you a bit of pause. For one, the smell. Showers started to be skipped a couple of times per week, clothes started to be reused time and time again at the gym… Clothes, as well, were being replaced faster than you could keep up with. Nick’s funky, colorful wardrobe had all but been emptied and replaced with athletic wear, sweats, and stringer tanks. You started to recognize your friend less and less. Standing there shirtless, in nothing more than his stinking gym shorts and rank socks, you couldn’t help but worry about him.

That isn’t to say he isn’t your friend anymore- he still laughs and jokes with you, albeit his humor is dirtier and more crass, but it’s good natured. He still goes out with you to the bars and plays wing man, though he does find himself in the bathroom with various hunky men more often than you’d like. He still happily hangs out and games with you on the weekends, though you have to light a couple of candles in the living room to drown out his scent. His scent… that heavy, buttery musk of sweat and unwashed laundry, with a hint of… oddly, fresh latex.

“Yo! Bro, I’m tellin’ you, you gotta come chill with Coop and Tre. Look at this shit!” Nick flexes his tatted arm, the fresh ink from a day or two prior glistens brightly atop the firm bicep. The gentle squeak of his shiny skin not going unnoticed by you.

“Sure man,” you fib, “sounds good.” Your disinterest in hanging with the two brain dead jocks shone through the lies. Nick sees this, the squishing sound of his socks echo in the bedroom as he walks over to you.

“Well, good! Tre is on his way over! Thought we could crack some beers and watch the game.” The game? The gym is one thing, you can wrap your head around the almost therapeutic experience of turning off your brain and just doing simple movements. But football? You raise your eyebrow.

“Since when have you liked football? You hate football.” Nicks face cracks ever so slightly, the first time you know intrinsically you touched on something he didn’t anticipate you to catch. Before he’s able to stutter out some form of reasoning, the knock on the front door saves Nick from your questioning.

“Oh shit, that’s him!” Nick dumbly chuckles to himself and squeaks out of the now ripe bedroom, his stench lingering in the air. You sigh, closing your eyes to take one or two deep breaths. Another smelly dude bro- delightful. The sound of the door opening, and a jovial ‘whassup bruh’ breaks your centering ritual. You stand up and approach the door, only barely hearing the quiet whispering of the two before you enter into the living room- the sight of Tre’s 6’2” jacked body greeting you.

“Whassup, my dude?” Tre’s shirtless form takes you aback, his muscles glistening just like Nick’s. Tre has always been a nice guy, relaxed and always down to kick back and just hang; even if he takes his sneakers off and fogs out the room with his cheesy foot smell, he had been nothing but kind to you. You have no reason to dislike or distrust him, and yet, here you are. You smile with a feigned civility, waving at him. Nick struts over to the kitchen and pulls out three Pacificos for you- one very clearly already opened before he pops the caps off the other two as if you hadn’t noticed.

“Let’s get comfy, boys!” Nick chimes and walks over to hand you your beer as you watch with exasperation as Tre kicks off his Jordans, the scent immediately hitting you like a train. The three of you clink your bottles together, and take a swig. At least, you certainly do. In the periphery of your sight, you see the two of them watch you for a split second before sipping their drinks as well. Nick throws his arm around you, the slickness of his skin immediately reminding you of the feeling of lubed latex as he guides the three of you to the couch, plopping down on it like sacks of potatoes.

Tre flicks his thumb against the remote, the game immediately coming onto your television as if it were playing just before it was last turned off. You continue to sip your beer, your eyes darting between Tre on your right and Nick on your left, both screaming and cheering with every goal. More and more you find that you don’t know Nick anymore, or at least who Tre and Cooper turned him into. An hour passes before halftime finally comes to pass, your Pacifico all but empty at this point. Finally, Nick turns to you, smiling as he sees you couch locked and borderline drunk. It was one drink, how are you feeling so goddamned weird?

“You need another one, bro?” Nick pokes your arm, which you feel compress and collapse against his finger. In the right state of mind, this would have obviously concerned you, but nearly unable to speak, you can do little more than shake your head no. “Yo, Tre. I think it’s setting in.” Nick’s face is bright and elated as he and Tre high five eachother before hopping onto their feet.

“Shit, bruh that didn’t take long at all. Not gonna lie, Coop. I didn’t think you’d be able to pull it off. You good in there?” You furrow your brow in confusion at Tre’s words until Nick slips his fingers into his mouth, pulling firmly until his face starts to peel away like a mask- squeaking and slurping until the face of Cooper beneath is revealed.

“Yeah man, feels amazing like always. Nicks’s givin me all the info I need. Only slipped up once!” The two jocks bump knuckles, before Cooper slithers his way out of Nick’s rubbery body. His feet slap against the floor, as Nick’s face snaps back to normal. Your eyes are open in horror and shock, before Nick shakes his head and reopens his eyes, grinning from ear to ear.

“Fuck yah, bro! Worked like a charm!” Cooper helps Nick to his feet, and the trio of jocks stand before you, their arms crossed and standing wide. “Fuck, man you’re gonna love this shit. I can’t keep hiding this shit from you and not share it!” You watch frozen, unable to move, feeling your body go limp and light as Nick and Cooper walk over to the couch and plop down on either side of you. “Bro, after Randy, I was ready to jump off the balcony. Then these motherfuckers found me at the gym and promised they’d be able to help me. Now look!” Nick flexes his arm, before grabbing his smelly foot and pulling on it. The meaty leg stretches longer and longer, the squeaks of his skin growing into warps until it snaps right back to normal. “What do you guys think? A month? Maybe two?”

“Sounds good, bro. It’ll be good to have you with us, bruh. You’ll be feelin better in no time.” With Tre’s words echoing in your head, you feel Cooper push you head back, letting it rest on the back of the couch before his and Nick’s fingers slip into the corners of your mouth. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull as they stretch it wider and wider, joking about how stretchy you are already. Tre walks around to the back of the couch and looks down at you, his left hand slipping into your wet, tight throat. “Let’s goooo!”

Tre shouts, removing his hand from your throat before gripping either end of the couch, swinging those huge smelly feet above your open maw. It happens quick and easy. The stench of his socks only lingers for one second before they slide across your tongue, the grimy texture making them slide down your throat quickly. His massive body slides inside of you with ease- the outline of his thick legs sliding beneath the skin of your chest and torso. The wet squelches and rubbery squeaks increase in frequency and intensity, as his ripe bulge and thick ass slips into you, your neck bulging wide as you feel his feet squeeze into yours. The skin stretches taut over his size 14’s, and your legs burst with his muscles within.

“Ay, a lil help, bro?” Tre stands up onto your feet, your wide mouth sits suctioned around his lean waist- the salty flavor of his sweat soaked balls sitting on your tongue filling your mouth with his flavor. Coop and Nick jump up as Tre raises his arms up, taking ahold of your ears in their fingers. Slowly, they tug up on your head, encasing his cobbled abs and meaty pecs within your body. You taste the ripe sweat in his wiry pits before his arms slide downward into your mouth, squeezing them deep within you until his fingers are just able enter your shoulders.

“Aight, bro! Pull!” Nick shouts loudly, and in seconds they pull your your head upward even further. You feel Tre’s arms squeeze into your own, and with a single roll of his shoulders, his hands slip into yours like gloves. You see Nick smile with genuine excitement as he pulls your your head over the back of Tre’s, tugging more and more until it snaps over his with a loud crack. You anticipated losing control, fading into black, lost in the ether… you couldn’t be more wrong.

“Ahh shit, lemme just…” Tre’s deep voice bellows out of your mouth, but deep in your mind you hear it as well. “Excuse the reach, bro. One sec.” He plunges your hands into your shorts, and you can feel his monstrous rod slipping and sliding around in your torso. He pulls on your skin, watching it stretch until his tip lines up with the base of your shaft. You’d moan if you could, feeling Tre’s slippery cock filling your own like rolling on a condom. He grunts as it distends your dick to match his 11 inches, his thick balls dropping into your sac with a wet schlorp. Tre stretches in your body, making sure everything is where it needs to be while Nick and Coop grab more beers.

“How… why…. How are you doing this?” Your voice echoes loudly around you. It doesn’t go unanswered, as your body plops right back down onto the couch, swollen with Tre’s musculature. He kicks your feet up onto the coffee table, his ripe foot funk now wafting from your soles.

“Heh, it’s a trip, right?” His voice booms in your head. “Just a lil thing my friend from New Orleans taught me once. Feels good, too.” Nick and Coop drop down onto the couch with a beer for ‘you.’ He takes it with your hand, unfamiliarly large and vascular. “Just sit back and relax, bruh. Let Tre show you how it’s done.” Your three bros clink their beers together, as you’re left to watch out of your eyes as they talk about how dope you’re gonna be.

———

Two months came and went, Tre took a bit longer inside you than had been planned- you two really bonded with him in the drivers seat. The way he swaggered down the street in your body, the way your rubbery skin glistened with his sweat, the musk that flowed from your feet, pits, and balls… you’ve grown to love it. You two talked almost every minute of every day within your mind, the feeling of having a bro with you at all times felt good and safe.

Feeling the thrill of lifting over 200 lbs with relative ease, the euphoria of him plunging your cock into dozens of men’s mouths and holes, the fraternal feeling of jacking Nick off in the sauna after a long lifting session, feeling like a sexy king with men and women drooling at your feet over your natural scent… you almost didn’t want Tre to exit you. When he did, it was bittersweet. Coop and Nick helped pry him out of your now jacked, musky fuckboy body, and it almost felt like on you were holding onto him inside of you. The moment he was out, though, your life really began.

You’re closer than ever with Nick, spending hours at the gym and at the clubs with him, fuckin boys and pumping iron. Every day is filled with crazy antics with the boys, Tre and Cooper are over almost every night kicking back with you, the bond unbreaking and unyielding. Just for yucks, you will squeeze into eachother, pranking eachother or just finding it a damn good way to feel close to your bro. In fact, the other day you fucked the shit out of this lil twink inside of Nick. The minute he walks through that door, you got a date tonight with him. You can’t wait to slip him on and use that dick of his, and he can’t wait either.

The air in Terrence and Julian’s dorm room hummed with a nervous energy thicker than the usual scent of crisp and sterile dorm room of two tidy nerd. Julian, perched on his worn desk chair, looked less like a college sophomore and more like a nervous raven – all sharp angles, pale skin stretched taut over bone, and a mop of jet-black hair that looked permanently wind-ravaged. He adjusted a crumbling leather-bound book, muttering under his breath, while Terrence, hunched on his bed, fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt.

Terrence is a classic 19 years old nerd: glasses perched on his big nose, slightly too-large hoodie, luminous black skin because he's rarely outside and not because of skin care and a general air of intellectual curiosity mixed with social awkwardness. Right now, though, that curiosity is warring with a palpable anxiety. They are about to attempt something definitely not classic nor nerdy. The target, DJ, the university’s wrestling star, a hairy, musky, arrogant mountain of a man who embodied everything Terrence isn't.

“Okay, Ter,” Julian said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet cutting through the tension. “The sigil is drawn. The incantation is keyed to his astral signature – extracted it from the official team roster photo database, cunning, isn't it? – and the sympathetic link is established through… well, let's just say a small, personal item of his I acquired.” Julian offered a tiny, sly grin, which Terrence chose not to inquire about. “When I chant this, focus your will. Project yourself. Think of being him. His size. His… smell. His arrogance,”

"His smell?" Terrence swallowed hard

Julian nodded, eyes gleaming behind his own thick-rimmed glasses.

"Yes. A key identifier. You know how pungent it was, you sniffed it right on its source. Remember that moment when he shoved you but pictured yourself as the one shoving a nerd to his pits. Now, silence. And focus."

Julian begins to chant. The words are guttural, ancient-sounding, completely alien in the sterile dorm room. A flickering candle cast dancing shadows, making Julian’s angular face look even more gaunt. Terrence closed his eyes, trying to push away the image of DJ’s sneering face and focus on the idea of his body. Size. Strength. Musk. Confidence Arrogance. He then feels this strange pulling sensation, like his consciousness is a kite string being yanked violently.

Suddenly, the chanting stopped. Terrence’s eyes snapped open. He's not on his room any longer as the floor underneath him feels different, creaked differently, much more pressure.

He is standing up. His perspective is higher. Broader. Looking down, he sees not his usual slender arms, but thick, corded biceps covered in a surprising amount of dark hair. He feels a weight in his chest, a solid mass of muscle. The air smelled different – not ramen and linen, but… sweat. A deep, earthy, animalistic musk.

He is in DJ’s room in the Phi Kappa frat house. Sunlight streamed through a window overlooking the manicured lawn. Weights were scattered on the floor. A wrestling singlet hung on a hook alongside a damp Under Armour compression. He gives both a good whiff before deciding to put on the Under Armour, the musk is fresher and more......potent, more DJ, him.

As soon as he finished putting on the damp clothing, thrill sensation, hot and alien, shot through him. He flexed his hands. They are enormous. He runs one over his chest, feeling the coarse hair, the hard pectoral muscle beneath the tight black Under Armour currently hugging his body. He walks to the mirror. DJ stared back – broad-shouldered, his face set in a default expression of bullish intensity. He grinned, and the face in the mirror grinned back, a wide, toothy, slightly unnerving expression on that unfamiliar canvas. It feels… powerful. Intoxicating. Even more so when he takes a deep breath while flexing his biceps, the headiness of the sweaty musky pits and DJ earthy cologne stirred something for the newly-in-control Terrence

Julian’s voice, tinny and urgent, interrupted the lustful observation Terrence currently conducted as it comes from the small, enchanted pendant Terrence still clutched in his new, massive hand.

"Terrence? Can you hear me? Did it work?"

Terrence cleared his throat. The sound is a low rumble.

"Yeah, Julian. It worked."

"Oh my god," Julian breathed, awe and relief plain in his voice.

"Okay, excellent! Now, remember the plan. Gather what we need – his training regimen, maybe some contacts, intel on the team. Just observe, don't interact too much. And get back here as soon as possible. This link isn't permanent without constant reinforcement, and I don't want to lose you in there."

"Right, right," Terrence mumbled, already distracted. He stretched, feeling the incredible reach of the muscles in his back and shoulders. He rotated his neck, hearing the subtle clicks of bone and muscle. This body… it's amazing. He dropped the pendant onto a nearby dresser, ignoring Julian's increasingly frantic squawking.

He spent the next hour in DJ's room, utterly captivated. He flexed every muscle, noting the hard ridges of his abs, the thick columns of his thighs. He examined the hair covering his limbs and chest, the stubble on his jaw, the sheer, unholy presence this body exuded. He caught his reflection in the mirror, striking poses the real DJ probably practiced religiously. He knelt down, testing the strength in his legs, then stood up effortlessly. He sniffed himself, burying his face in the crook of his elbow, breathing in the potent, unique musk. It's not just body odor; it's the smell of raw power and animal confidence. It is everything he isn't, yet, confusingly, it's him.

The world outside felt distant, irrelevant. Julian's instructions faded into the background. Terrence is lost in the sheer physicality of being DJ.

Back in the dorm, Julian’s anxiety mounted with each passing minute of silence from the pendant. Terrence hadn’t responded in an hour. An hour! The astral link is stable for a while, but the longer Terrence stayed, the harder it would be for him to pull back, or worse, for the real DJ’s consciousness to fight back and potentially trap Terrence in a limbo, bodiless yet trapped inside a body that never really belonged to him

Julian paced their cramped room, wringing his hands. He knows Terrence is probably just overwhelmed, exploring. But Julian’s occult studies had taught him caution and the dangers of lingering in borrowed forms. He had to get Terrence back. He couldn't risk yelling into the pendant and alerting the real DJ that his body has been taken over by another entity. He needs to go there. To the lion's den.

Sneaking into Phi Kappa feels like navigating an enemy fortress. It's late afternoon, quiet between classes and evening activities. The front door is unlocked (of course it is), letting out faint traces of lingering party smells from the night before – stale beer, something vaguely chemical as if trying to suppress whatever smell emanated in from last night that is more stubborn to get rid off, and that same potent musk he’d only ever smelled on DJ and the rest of the jocks from a distance. Julian creeps down a hallway, his slight frame feeling ridiculously exposed to this animal lair. He listened for voices, footsteps. Nothing. Dead silent. Except one.

He reached DJ’s room – the door is slightly ajar. He peered in, his heart leaping. DJ is there, staring out a window, flexing a massive arm. Relief washed over Julian, quickly followed by a fresh wave of anxiety. DJ looked… lost in his own thought. Utterly absorbed.

"Terrence!" Julian whispered urgently, pushing the door open a crack.

DJ (Terrence inside) spun around, eyes widening slightly before narrowing into a look Julian knew all too well from the real DJ. A look of predatory amusement.

Before Julian could say another word, DJ is already across the room in two long strides. A massive hand clamped over Julian’s mouth, muffling his surprised yelp. The other arm wrapped around his back, pulling him tight against DJ's sweat-slicked chest. The musk was overwhelming up close, a hot, potent cloud that made Julian dizzy.

"Shhh," DJ whispered, his voice a low, hot rumble right next to Julian’s ear. Fuck......is this Terrence? Or is it the real DJ?

"Look what happened to the curious cat. Little Julian. Sneaking around the frat house?"

Julian squirmed against the iron grip, eyes wide and panicked behind his glasses. This isn't the plan! Terrence is acting like… like him. The real DJ. This might even be the real, unrestrained and fully conscious DJ!

DJ chuckled, a deep sound vibrating through Julian’s chest. He steered Julian backward, away from the open door, into a less visible corner of the room. He keeps the hand over Julian’s mouth, pressing firmly but not painfully.

"You shouldn't be here, man," DJ continued, leaning in close, eyes twinkling with something primal. "This ain't your world. All muscles, parties, and… ladies." He winked, a slow, deliberate blink that felt bizarre coming from that face. "Lots and lots of horny ladies. Couldn't keep them off me last night, man. Had to lock my door just to get a minute." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "You wouldn't know about that, huh? Stuck in your room with your books and… rituals?"

Julian could only make muffled noises, his breath hot against DJ's hand. The sheer physical dominance is terrifying, even knowing it's Terrence based on that final hint because there's no way a bonafide popular and more senior jock like DJ is aware of Julian, let alone his interest in the occult. It is DJ’s body, DJ’s power, bearing down on him. And the smell… God, the smell. It is everywhere, thick and intoxicating, but it's still thankfully Terrence in control

DJ leaned closer still, his breath warm on Julian's ear.

"You look nervous, Jules. Haven't seen a real frat boy lair, have you? All that sweat… the smell… gets to some guys. Makes 'em weak in the knees. Ladies? Oh, they opened themselves easy," He paused, then slowly, deliberately, lowered his hand from Julian’s mouth.

Julian sucked in a shaky breath. "T-Terrence? What are you doing?"

The predatory glint in DJ’s eyes softened, replaced by an intensity that is purely Terrence now, but amplified by the commanding presence of the body he inhabited.

"I'm figuring things out, Julian." He stepped back slightly, but his large hands still rested lightly on Julian’s shoulders. "And I realized… acting like him…" He gestured vaguely at the room, at the body he is in. "...is unexpectedly fun." He looked Julian up and down, a slow, assessing gaze that made Julian blush furiously. "Especially when I know how you look at him."

Julian’s eyes went wide. "What?"

"Don't play dumb," DJ rumbled, stepping closer again. "I've seen you. Glancing away quickly. The way you sometimes linger near the wrestling practice room, watching me and the boys throwing and tackling each other. Wishing it was you huh straddled on the mat with cocks pressing with a jock in singlet? You like the… physicality, don't you? The power. The… musk." He lowered his head slowly, burying his face in Julian's hair, breathing him in. "You smell like old paper and nervous energy." He lifted his head, a smirk playing on DJ's lips. "He would just push you around, call you names. But I'm not him. Not entirely."

DJ slides his hands down Julian’s arms, then hesitated. Julian trembled, caught between fear and a forbidden, burning desire. He could barely think over the scent of DJ’s body, the sheer proximity to this overwhelming physical form.

"You came looking for me," DJ said softly, his voice deeper, rougher, than Julian had ever heard it. "Curious." His eyes held Julian’s. "Maybe you deserve a reward for your curiosity,"

He moved slowly, deliberately. He lowered his head again, not to Julian’s hair this time, but towards his shoulder, then lower, towards the chest encased in a thin t-shirt. Julian gasped as DJ breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of him. Then, DJ lifted his head and, with a look that was both tender and intensely focused, guided Julian's hand to his own broad chest.

"Feel this," DJ murmured, pressing Julian’s hand against the hard muscle, the coarse hair. "Smell this." He guided Julian’s hand higher, towards his neck, then gently, inevitably, towards the crook of his shoulder, where the thick hair is damp with lingering sweat

Julian is lost. All his apprehension melted away, replaced by a tidal wave of sensation. The heat radiating from DJ’s body, the gritty texture of the hair and skin, and the overpowering, intoxicating musk – it is exactly what he had secretly craved, fixated on from afar. With a shaky breath, Julian leaned in, burying his face against DJ's chest inhaling deeply. He moved hesitant hands over the hard expanse, tracing the outline of a pectoral muscle, feeling the beating of the heart beneath and looking at the cross gold pendant that smelled like sweaty metal if that's even sensible. He risked moving his face lower, towards the armpit, thick with hair and radiating heat and scent. He breathed deeply, worshipfully, lost in the raw, animal reality of it.

Julian gasped, his face flushed and eyes wide with fear as suddenly he's lifted from the corner next to that pile of dirty laundry to the table that soon cleared out from any other items, the perfect sacrificial table

DJ smiled with a sinister grin, amused, as Julian flinched,

"See, Jules, I've been thinking. This body... it's something else, isn't it?" He flexed experimentally, muscles rippling under the skin. "Makes me feel things... want things... that scrawny little Terrence never could."

He leaned in, his voice a low growl. "Things like this..."

Suddenly, DJ spun Julian around and shoved him face-down on the table. Julian yelped, flailing, but a heavy hand between his shoulder blades pinned him easily. He feels this large, muscular thigh push between his own, spreading his legs. Hot breath ghosted over the back of his neck.

"Like this," DJ repeated, his voice a rough purr. "Like pinning down a scrawny little twink and making him my bitch."

Julian whimpered in surprise, his hips bucking involuntarily as a large, calloused hand pried at his ass. The reality of it crashed over him like a wave. This is happening. He is at DJ's mercy, DJ's mercy with Terrence in control, and it is... it is more arousing than he'd ever admit.

DJ chuckled darkly at Julian's pathetic resistance. His hands are all over Julian's body now, groping and teasing, uncaring of Julian's little mewls and gasps.

"Keep struggling, Jules. Feels so good when they fight."

He pressed his chest flush against Julian's back, crushing him into the table. Julian felt a thick, hard bulge grinding against his ass and nearly came on the spot. The musk is everywhere, flooding his senses, stoking the fire in his gut.

DJ mouthed at the back of Julian's neck, nipping and sucking, leaving dark marks in his wake. His hands shoved under Julian's shirt, mapping every inch of skin, pinching his nipples hard enough to hurt. Julian writhed, lost to it, a needy moan slipping past his lips.

The hand between his shoulder blades slid down to cover his mouth, muffling any further sounds.

"Yeah, just like that," DJ growled in his ear. "Gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name, little man. Gonna make this tight ass mine."

He punctuated the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, grinding his bulge against Julian's crack. Julian's vision goes white, his own neglected cock throbbing where it is trapped under his body. He is delirious with it, drunk on the raw power and musk and heat of DJ's body pressed all over him.

DJ ripped down Julian's pants with one swift motion, baring his ass to the air. A spit-slick finger probed at his entrance, making Julian clench and whimper. He'd never been taken like this, so roughly, so... dominantly. It is humiliating, degrading, and so fucking hot.

The finger pushed inside, stretching him open. Julian bucked back against the intrusion, needing more, needing everything. DJ worked him open with quick, rough thrusts of his fingers, twisting and scissoring, no care for Julian's comfort.

He nipped and growled filthy promises all over Julian's neck and shoulders.

"Gonna wreck this ass... ruin you for anyone else... make you crave my cock like a bitch in heat..." The words dissolved into dark chuckles that vibrated through Julian's body.

Julian panted desperately into DJ's palm, his cock leaking a steady stream of pre-cum onto the floor. He is babbling now, garbled moans and pleas falling from his lips. He needed it, needed DJ to fuck him into oblivion, to make him submit to that glorious body, to lose himself in the raw animal heat of it.

The fingers left him empty for a devastating second before something much larger pressed at his entrance. Julian keened, high and desperate, as the thick head of DJ's cock popped past his rim.

DJ groaned, long and low, as he sank into Julian's body in one brutal thrust. Julian screamed, muffling it against the hand over his mouth. It burned, so big, so deep, splitting him open, reshaping him from the inside out as his back arched like he's one of DJ's bitches from last night

DJ doesn't stop until he is buried to the hilt, his heavy balls slapping against Julian's ass. He ground into Julian's prostate, making him see stars.

"Fuck, so tight," he growled. "Built for my cock, aren't you? Gonna pound this ass till you're nothing but a sloppy mess."

He draws back and snapped his hips forward, setting a brutal pace. The table shook with the force of his thrusts, the sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing obscenely in the room. Julian could only take it, overwhelmed, impaled on that massive cock, circuited by those powerful arms and chest and thighs as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he moaned calling Terrence to stop

"I ain't stopping man, I ain't Terrence MMFFUUCCKKK"

"NGGGAAHHHHHH FFFUUUCCKKK D...DJ....PLEASE...MMMMMMHHHH.....I....I.....DJ PLEASE STOOOAAAPPPPH"

It is too much, the pressure and stretch and raw power of DJ's body combined with Terrence's dark promises. But being called DJ really caused him to be even more brutal in his thrust as the satisfaction washes over him. He's doing such a mind-bending job, he's even fully mistaken as the real DJ! Julian eventually couldn't hold it any longer as he comes with a choked sob, his untouched cock spurting weakly. His ass clenched down, milking DJ's cock, drawing him deeper.

DJ groaned into the back of Julian's neck, his thrusts going erratic. He pistoned into Julian's ass, chasing his own pleasure, using Julian's body for his own satisfaction like his best friend is merely an object

With a final, bruising snap of his hips, DJ comes deep inside Julian, flooding his guts with hot cum. Julian whimpered and shuddered through the aftershocks, pinned down and filled with DJ's release, claimed and owned in the most primal way.

DJ slumped over Julian's back, both of them panting harshly. His softening cock slipped free of Julian's abused hole, followed by a gush of cum that dribbled down his thighs.

Julian lay there, face-down and ass-up, used and dripping, aching in all the best ways. He knows he should feel humiliated, should be pushing DJ off him, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not when he is floating in a haze of endorphins and raw, animal satisfaction.

DJ stirred, his weight lifting off Julian's back. Julian hissed at the sensation of cool air on his spit-slick skin and the feel of DJ's cum dripping down his legs. He stayed bent over the table but then slumped to DJ's bed yet remained still like a broken puppet, too boneless to move, his glasses knocked askew on his face.

A large hand landed on his ass, squeezing roughly.

"Good boy," DJ rumbled, palming Julian's abused cheek, "I knew this ass could take it. We're gonna have so much fun, you and me."

Julian shivered, equal parts dread and anticipation coiling in his gut. He knows he is in trouble, trapped with an-all powerful jock possessed by his best friend horniest impulses and thrall to his own body. But fuck, it felt good. Too good.

Both of them are so absorbed, so utterly consumed by the forbidden contact and the overwhelming scent, that neither of them heard the door open until a voice shattered the moment.

"Yo bro, couldn't find----DJ? What the actual…?"

Chase. Bleached-blonde, red-bearded, broad-shouldered, muscle jock with a perpetually cocky smirk. He simply stand still in the doorway, groceries in hand, staring at the bizarre scene: DJ, their resident wrestling god, naked and sweaty with the skinny, emo-looking kid from the arts quad, who is currently slumped on DJ's bed with floppy 3 incher and wetness that must have come from back-breaking sex.

Julian simply freeze in bed, mortified. DJ straightened up slowly, his expression unreadable. Chase dropped the bags, his smirk replaced by utter confusion and a dawning disgust.

DJ looked at Julian, trembling and exposed beside him. Then he looked at Chase, the archetypal jock, the very image of physical prowess Julian seemed drawn to. An idea, sudden and audacious, formed in Terrence’s mind. Julian didn't just need to sniff and fucked by power. He deserved to be power

"Chase," Terrence said grumbly, drawing from DJ's memory on how he would address his roommate when he's slightly pissed, his voice flat, powerful.

Chase eyed him suspiciously.

"Dude, what the fuck is going on? You know that President Stern and the entire uni board watched us like a hawk, bullying that---

"No bullying in here bro," DJ interrupted, stepping towards Chase. Julian watched, bewildered and terrified, as DJ moved with a purpose the real DJ usually reserved for the wrestling mat, "everything's mutual. He wanted to be a bitch so I treated him the same way I did Pamela or Jo or Molly or Trish, and the rest," DJ said with a casual predatory smirk as if looking for an understanding as he reached out, not roughly, but with unexpected speed and focus, grabbing Chase by the shoulder. Chase, caught off guard, stumbled back, dropping his groceries.

"What are you…?" Julian gasped, realizing the look in DJ’s eyes. It's the same intense focus Terrence had had moments before the first ritual.

"Julian," DJ said, his voice taking on a commanding tone that reverberated with the power of the body he was in. "Focus. Now. Think of Chase. His strength. His… everything you admire."

Julian, still reeling from the whole fucking and the sudden intrusion, stared at Chase’s muscular form, his thick beard, his sheer physical presence. He's the platonic ideal of the jock, just like DJ. Better, even, in some ways. As his focus intensified, he felt the familiar pull, the deep-seated yearning for that kind of physical reality.

DJ placed a hand on Chase's forehead, his eyes locking onto Julian's. He began to chant, the words he read in the next page to the one he and Julian read for this whole takeover of DJ. It's a simpler, more direct command. A transfer.

Chase’s eyes widened in alarm, unable to break free and his body seized and mouth agape as something shifted in him. As his eyesight goes blank, his body goes rigid for a couple second and then slumped slightly. At the same moment, Julian can feel that familiar tug, that violent yank on his consciousness, the last thing he witnessed before darkness engulfed him is his own skinny body on the bed with eyes wide, before everything shifted to reveal that he is inside Chase now, he is Chase.

His gasps sounded different. Deeper. More resonant. He looked down at his hands. They are massive, covered in a light scattering of red hair. The arms looked pumped, as if he's constantly working on it and pumping it with blood and concoction of serums to grow it. A simple flex stirred the hunger in him as he looked at his massive biceps swell while his other hand busily roaming across the carved landscape of his new possession. He feels the weight of his own limbs during the exploration, the solidity of his core should have surprised him but then he is Chase Axlerod, he is jacked and self-obsessed so this is how things should be. He runs his hand over his face, feeling the rough texture of the thick beard. In front of him, he watched as his old body collapsed to the bed with his eyes vacant white while he turned and face his sweaty, reeked roommate

They stand there for a long moment, two minds that knows each other intimately, now encased in bodies they had only admired and feared from afar with even more knowledge they can use for their satisfaction. The air is thick once more with the remnants of the sex DJ just did with Julian's body and the ritual, and a sudden, explosive charge of possibility. Chase's body feels powerful, grounded, different from DJ's raw, animalistic strength, but equally potent.

With a devilish smirk, Chase pawed at his 5 incher roid-affected pecker in his shortd

"Bro, so as I said, couldn't find that Trojan you asked me so I guess we're going in raw tonight bro. How about I cleaned you up first from all this seedy sloppiness before we get out from here for some beers and pussy? You reeked,"

"Oh, what an interesting offer bro. I can definitely use some warm shower and a thick, gooey liquid lathered across my body," DJ replied with a knowing smirk, his semi now grows hard once more while his balls readying themselves to produce more of the little DJ's to swarm Chase's tight straight boy pussy

---

As you pull on the leather gear, you’re immediately hit with the scent—thick, heady musk mixed with grease, sweat, and old leather. It clings to you, wrapping around your senses as the jacket tightens across your chest. The snug fit should feel wrong, but instead, it feels perfect—like it was made for you.

You catch your reflection in the mirror, and your heart skips a beat. Your arms look bigger, veins popping as your muscles fill out. Your chest broadens, the leather stretching across the hard, bulging mass. You run a hand over your abs, feeling every ripple as your once-slim frame swells into a physique you’ve only dreamed of. Your skin feels alive, hyper-sensitive under the tight embrace of the leather.

Heat pools low in your gut. You can’t help yourself. Your hands drift down, rubbing over the thick bulge in the leather pants, feeling how responsive everything is. The smell—your own sweat mixing with the raw scent of the leather—drives you wild. You watch your reflection, muscles flexing, the leather hugging every curve of your new body as your cock hardens, pressing against the tight fabric.

It’s too much. You unzip, your cock springing free, thick and throbbing in your hand. Each stroke feels electric, the pleasure coursing through your new muscular frame. You groan, watching your reflection, admiring every flex, every muscle—your pecs, your biceps, your abs, all swollen with power, glistening with sweat under the leather.

The intensity builds. You grip harder, jacking off with desperate need. Your body feels like it’s on fire, every inch of muscle throbbing with the same heat as your cock. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

With a final groan, you explode, cum splattering across your rippling abs, the release hitting you like a freight train. You moan, chest heaving, feeling every pulse as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure, the smell of sweat, cum, and leather thick in the air. Your body shudders, muscles flexing, still basking in the raw, primal energy of it all.

But as you come down from the high, your reflection shifts. There’s something else there—someone else. A blonde, muscular greaser stares back at you, his smirk widening. His blue eyes lock onto yours.

"That felt good, didn’t it? Don’t worry, it’s my body now."

Before you can react, your body stiffens. Your muscles, now his, flex without your command. He runs your hands over your cum-slicked abs, groaning in satisfaction, testing the strength of the body he’s stolen.

Daniel was a very introverted man. He moved away from his home state to New York City to be a photographer, and he knew absolutely no one. That was until he met his neighbor Bryce. Bryce was the life of the party. A very compassionate, easy going, sex icon of a guy. And I mean sex icon! It was a fight trying to get him to put a shirt on much less, hide his arms. Bryce walked over to Daniel's door one day and knocked. Daniel opened it very hesitantly but would later realize the resistance was unnecessary.

Bryce was charismatic and easily striked a conversation with Daniel, although hard for Daniel as he had a lot of anxiety. When talking about clothing Daniel had for some reason brought up the fact he still wore tighty whities. Bryce just chuckled at the statement and said “ you know hell yeah man. I get it. Their comfortable and classic. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it you know? “ Daniel felt safe around Bryce and Bryce was fond of Daniel. The two spent the next year having dinners with one another, hanging out almost every hour of the day, they were as best as friends could get.

Throughout that time Bryce tried his damndest to crack Daniels shell, and pull down the shield he constantly puts up when faced with new things. For instance on this specific night the topic was Daniel's wardrobe. “ I’m just saying “Danny, you spend all that time in the gym keeping everything toned, just to not show it? “ said Bryce. “ Daniel sank into his chair while the two were doing a puzzle in his apartment. “ Why do I need to show it? For people to like me? I don’t think so. “ Daniel said. “ Well I’m just saying. You're a good looking guy, anybody in this town would be lucky to be with you, but you're very reserved. “ Bryce told Daniel. Daniel just sat with that. “ Reserved? “ Daniel asked. “ Yeah, like you don’t really go out unless it’s with me, you're too afraid to date and god forbid if someone makes the first move you brush em off! You gotta get out of your comfort zone Danny! “ Bryce always called Daniel “Danny” which Daniel didn’t like. “ I think I’m perfectly fine the way I am. I’m a catch and if people really wanna be with me or if I want to have a secret nightlife like you I will when it naturally comes.” Daniel said sternly. “ Naturally? What are you waiting for puberty or something? Wake up Danny, no one waits for you in life unless you let them in and I’m the only person you’ve let in. “ Bryce said with bitter seriousness. Daniel looked like he was about to cry when Bryce said that. “ You're gonna wait for me aren’t you? “ Bryce looked at Daniel and knew the truth. “ Of course man but I might not always be here, and neither will you. That's why you gotta live now! “ Daniel just continued to brush these suggestions off and eventually Bryce stopped, and then Bryce got ready to leave. “ Bryce, I’ll think about what you said tonight. “ Daniel said before closing the door. “ I know you will Danny. “ Bryce left for his apartment after saying that and Daniel closed the door. Daniel went to bed and reflected on what was said. And Bryce went out afterwards. When Dainel woke up the next day to forty seven missed calls and or texts, he was so fucking confused because he only knows one person. Then a knock at his door came. He threw on some clothes and walked over to the door and it was the police. “ Are you Daniel Hayes? “ said the first police officer. Daniel looking very confused said “ I am. Is something wrong? “ “ we are here to inform you that your neighbor has passed away, Bryce Schneider. Just letting everyone kno- “ Daniel’s entire heart in that moment just shattered. Bryce? Dead? The most alive guy he knew? “ Excuse me, died?! How? “ Daniel said, holding back tears. " Well we don’t know quite just yet but the landlord reported it after trying to get a hold of him. “ said the other police officer. “ okay. “ said Daniel. “ listen kid if you need any counseling this is the card for it. Sorry for your loss. “ Daniel closed the door in shock. He just saw him the night before how could he of died? So many questions were ringing through his head when a vase near his door fell to the ground. It startled Daniel so he walked over hesitantly and began to clean up the pieces when books over by his window started falling off the shelves. Now Daniel was freaking the fuck out. “ What the hell is in here?! “ that’s when a ghost appeared but he couldn’t make out the face quite yet. “ Who are you and why are you in my home! “ the ghost got right up in Daniel’s face and Daniel began to cower behind his hands.

“ Easy Danny boy!! No need to go all ghost busters on me! “ Daniel recognized that voice, he looked up and sure enough its was Bryce, well more or less. “ Bryce? Your a ghost? “  Daniel said. “ Well not by my own choosing but yeah! It’s kinda chill once you get the hang of flying through shit and you know. Floating. “ Daniel didn’t know whether to cry or be afraid. " What, how did this happen? “ said Daniel. “ Well you see I died, Land Lord smothered me in my sleep. Now I’m a ghost! “ Bryce said with a genuine grin. “ Oh my god! You were murde- “ Then Daniel got interrupted. “ Ehh don’t worry about it, not really why I’m here but hey no hard feelings to him! “ Bryce said. “ Wait there’s a reason your here? “ Daniel asked. “ Duh! I died with uhh. . Unfinished Business lets say that! So they sent me down here to take care of that I guess! “ Bryce replied. “ And what business is that exactly? “  Daniel asked knowing exactly what he was about to say. “ Helping you of course!! If anything I am proof of why you need to take my advice!!! You can die at any moment so what’s the point of being stuck in this flat, when there’s a city out there!! Plus I’m dead so your not busy anymore! “ Daniel rolled his eyes and put his head into his hands. “ Damn it were still on this. How the hell exactly are you supposed to help me get out of my shell when your a fucking ghost? You think about that? “ Daniel said. “ Danny boy you know me, of course I have a plan. Since I’m a ghost and all your right I can’t help you physically but I can if you just say these words, and I’ll help you out! “ Bryce replied. “ What words do I need to say? “ Daniel said. “ Okay, Bryce I let you into my life. Consider it more of a legal thing, consent even! “ Daniel stood up and paced a little thinking. “ Okay so if I say this, you will come down here and help me somehow? “ Bryce swirled around and got closer to Daniel. “ Yes Danny, all you gotta do is say those words! “ Bryce said. “ Alright, I’m doing this for you! Bryce I let you into my life- “ As soon as Daniel said that Bryce turned into a vapor causing Daniel to fly backwards and Bryce while laughing flew straight into Daniel’s body. Daniel’s body convulsed and shook. Daniel’s face contorted and his limbs flew all over, then he laid motionless. Then a gasp.

“ Oh shit, I’m in! “ Daniel stood up and walked over to a mirror when he began to examine his face and touch it and move it around with his hands. “ Damn Danny didn’t realize what a mug you got! Pretty hot! By the way I apologize for not telling you I was gonna possess you. I figured you would of had some issues with it. “ Danny started touching the rest of his body feeling the toned muscles he had. “ How about I go take some clothes off and we get a good luck huh?

“ Danny went into his new room and began to strip down to his boxers and looked in the bathroom mirror. “ holy shit I’ve got fucking abs!!! And no one knows it! Oh but they are gonna. “ he said this as he ran his finger across the many divits in his rock hard abs. Danny then saw a tank top on the ground and figured that’ll work. He threw it on and began to flew in the mirror with his new muscles when he came to a realization.

“ Motherfucker, you had armpit hair this entire time!!! Shit, and you made fun of me for showing mine look at yours! I’m a furry little bastard now aren’t I!  “ Danny gave his pit a deep huff “ Oh god that’s good! Musty funky greatness! no complaints! “ when he said the at just then a tent began forming in his boxers. “ No complaints here either. Let’s take a look with what we’re working with . “ If the happy trail was any suggestion when he pulled down his boxers a eight inch python nesting in a bush was there. " Okay okay, letting it bush I rock with it!! Should I? “ Danny looked at his sexy as hell reflection. “ Well you did walk in on me that one time so I think this is fair. plus when in Danny!  “  Danny began to stroke his new cock and it was real sensitive, Danny almost fell down jerking his junk.  “ Oh man Danny this stuff is a ride!! “ Danny felt around his new asshole and it was tight with a surrounding of hair. He thought for a minute if he should do this but he was so overcome by his own dick he began to stick digit after digit into his boy pussy. “ Now were on to something!! But you know since we got a mirror here I don’t think a goon session would be out of the question. “ Danny while finger fucking his ass and his dick began to goon to himself in the mirror. He moaned shook in ecstasy. “ I’m so fucking hot, people are gonna line up to ride this ride. And I smell delicious! “ For clarification Daniel went to sleep exhausted so he didn’t take a shower and this act wasn’t helping either. The room began to have a funky smell to it and it was coming from Danny. “ Oh I’m gonna BUST! “ Right then Danny shot ropes all over himself, Bryce had never seen this much cum before. It was on him, the mirror in his hair everywhere. this is a good time to reveal that Bryce didn’t have unfinished business, but he did die too soon so he got sent back down as a ghost to find a new body. And it’s one of the instructions to cum out your old host. Danny pulled his fingers out and scooped up some of his spunk and sucked it off his fingers. “ Now that’s what I call some good Daniel cream! “ Danny hopped up pulled his boxers up snapping them making a wet noise and in the same dirty black tank top covered in cum and walked into the room. “ Okay I’m gonna go out so we gotta find something hot to wear. This works but we need something more. “ He fingered through all of his clothes and he threw all the acceptable wardrobe on the floor. Most were just shorts or pants and nothing else or really skimpy tank tops that would show his v line and furry happy trail.

He threw on an outfit with overalls which was new to Bryce but gonna rock with Danny and set out into the world. “ Damn I look fine. And I got easy access to my pits!! Let’s see how long it takes for me to find some ass. “ ten minutes later Danny brought back a chick to his place.

Now Daniel was gay and Bryce was bi so Danny would be bi with that math according to Danny. Danny picked her up and plopped her down on the couch in the living room and took her bra off with his teeth then threw down his boxers revealing his musky cock. “ Oh I didn’t think I’d be getting well fed today. “ said the girl. “ Everyone loves Danny’s funky frank! “ said Danny. Danny began to fuck this girl ruthlessly and rough. There was a symphony of moans and grunts. Danny had already cummed but he kept going until she did and even after kept going until they both did twice. They both laid exhausted and exhilarated. “ Am I going to see you again? “ asked the girl out of breath. “ Maybe, depends on how I feel. “ replied Danny placing his arms above his head.

Weeks go by Danny’s house is a pigsty, underwear and new jockstraps all over the floor. Pocket pussies that have been used leaving all over the counter, and the smell was absolutely putrid but heavenly to Danny. That day Danny was going to a Halloween pool party so he drove to the country side of New York and on the way had multiple jerk sessions giving his interior a new paint job.

“ never gets old. “ Danny said while smearing his natural lotion all over his pits, mouth, and face, huffing it. When he arrived at the party he was greeted and shown to his room. He began undressing down to his boxers then he decided who needs those and started freeballing. He threw on his first costume or more so his new wardrobe, a jersey and a skimpy tank top revealing his fury parts on display.

Danny was the life of that party, and fucked more than half of guests including the guy who set this all up. They did it in one of the pool houses while everyone was getting ready for the pool. “ Oh good god your huge- “ said the guy. “ Yeah, then moan like it bitch! “ said Danny. Danny became more dominant over the past couple of weeks letting his stubble grow out, man’s capping and hygiene were out of the question and he sold his washer and dryer to buy more clothes and sex toys.

“ I’m gonna fill you with so much cum you’ll be leaking it for days. “ Danny said. “ Yes Danny! Yes Danny!! “ moaned the guy. After Danny cummed he pulled out and started face fucking the guy, sending all nine inches now of musty cock down this bitches throat. Five minutes later Danny opened the door of the pool house butt ass naked smoking a joint while the guy was laying passed out on the floor covered in Danny’s cum. Danny walked around checking people out while everything was out for show, when he came up on some old sweaty swimming trunks that were yellowed on the inside. He found that these were his best option while there are a bunch of clean ones inside of the house and that’s no fun.

Danny swam with everybody else and played pool games with them. Danny’s pits now smelling like sweat, dried cum and pool water. Everyone couldn’t resist it, everyone wanted a piece of Danny. And Danny was well aware.

Later that night when the Halloween party was continuing Danny changed into his second costume a sweaty sexy blue collar worker with nothing but suspenders and pants, no underwear. Before he left he looked in the mirror as he always does now and realized what a change he’s gone through. “  A couple of weeks ago I wore nothing but sweaters and slacks, now I’m a fucking sexy bite of a man. I’m Danny. “ Danny went on to fuck the other half of the party having his way with everyone more than once. By the end of the night everyone including Danny had huffed his masculine earthy aroma intoxicating them. He didn't even feel the need to wear clothes anymore he just walked around nude, filling people with cum left and right, even getting filled himself. And he remained the sex symbol, cum addicted,  and musky easy going guy he was meant to become. All thanks to Bryce.

(AI-Generated)

You wake to a sterile stillness, standing beside your own body in a hospital room. Tubes snake into your arms, machines beep faintly, and your chest rises and falls in shallow, ragged breaths. The car accident replays in your mind like a broken film reel. Twisted metal. Screeching tires. The world fading to black. You’ve been fighting to stay alive for hours, clinging to a thread, but now you’re something else. A bodiless soul, untethered and unseen. Nurses bustle around your dying shell, their hands passing through you as they adjust drips and murmur stats. You wave a hand in front of their faces. Nothing. You shout, voice swallowed by silence. Panic claws at your chest, a cold grip tightening, until he appears.

Death looms at the foot of your bed, a skeletal figure draped in a tattered black hoodie. His scythe rests lazily over his shoulder, more like a golf club he’s tired of swinging than a harbinger of doom. His voice booms, deep and comically theatrical, like a washed-up actor hamming it up for a cheap crowd. “Oi, you! Time’s up, mate. Let’s go. Afterlife’s waiting, and I’ve got a quota to hit.” He sounds exhausted, reciting lines he’s delivered a thousand times, his bony fingers tapping an impatient rhythm on the bedrail.

“No fucking way,” you snap, defiance surging through your spectral form. “I’m not done here. I’ve got dates to crash, guys to fuck, a whole life to live!” Death rolls his hollow sockets, somehow radiating exasperation without eyes.

“Oh, please. Everyone’s got a sob story. ‘Woe is me, I didn’t get to try sushi!’ Move it, or I’ll drag you kicking and screaming.” He shifts his weight, bony foot tapping faster, clearly over it.

You think quick, scanning the ward. “Hey, look over there!” you shout, pointing at an elderly patient across the room, hunched over a tray of Jell-O, spoon trembling in his frail hand. “That guy’s about to croak. Go get him instead!”

Death turns his skull with a groan. “What, another one? Bloody hell.” You don’t wait. You bolt, a spectral blur weaving through gurneys and doctors, their bodies parting like mist around you. Behind you, Death mutters, “Not again. Third runner this week,” his heavy footsteps clattering in pursuit.

The hospital blurs past, a maze of white walls and antiseptic air. You dodge into a room, pressing your ghostly back against the wall as Death stomps by, grumbling under his breath. “I need a vacation. Or a raise. Maybe both.” His voice fades, and you exhale, a sigh of relief rippling through your form. Then you turn around, and the breath catches in your nonexistent throat.

There he is, sprawled across a hospital bed like a god lounging on a throne. Shirtless, one leg encased in a cast up to the ankle, he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. His chest is a sculpted masterpiece, broad pecs kissed by the sun, golden and gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. Chiseled abs ripple down his torso, each ridge catching the glow, a faint trail of blonde hair dipping below the waistband of his gray sweats. His arms, thick and corded with muscle, are etched with tattoos, intricate ink curling over his biceps and forearms, telling stories of wild nights and reckless days. 

He’s on the phone, voice smooth as velvet, dripping with a cocky edge. “Yeah, tell the agency I’ll be back in a week. Bachelorette gig went south. Some drunk chick spilled her margarita, and I slipped mid-spin. Sprained my damn ankle.” He chuckles, low and confident, running a hand through his short blonde hair. “Rickie Young doesn’t stay down long, though. Too hot for that.”

Rickie Young. The name clicks. You’ve heard of him, seen the flyers plastered around town. A professional male stripper, twenty-eight, with a reputation that precedes him. Arrogant as hell, always strutting like he owns the room, and why wouldn’t he? With a body like that, a face like a model, he’s built for the spotlight. Blonde stubble dusts his square jaw, framing lips that curl into a perpetual smirk. His blue eyes, sharp and piercing, have seduced countless crowds, men and women alike. He’s cheated death before, or so he brags. Motorcycle crashes, bar brawls, a near-drowning at some beach party, all shrugged off with a laugh and a flex. “Nothing can touch me,” he’d say, tossing back a shot, convinced he’s invincible, a golden boy too pretty to die.

Your ghostly jaw drops. You drift closer, drawn like a moth to flame, mesmerized by the way his sun-kissed skin shifts with every breath. The tattoos ripple as he stretches, ink dancing over muscle, and you ache to trace them. You’ve never touched a body like this, and now, invisible and dead, what’s stopping you? Your spectral hand grazes his abs, cool and firm beneath your fingers, the heat of him seeping into you. Rickie shivers, rubbing his arms. “Fuck, it’s cold in here.” You smirk, sliding your hand up to his pecs, brushing a nipple with your thumb. He gasps, blue eyes widening. “What the hell?” His voice cracks, but he shakes it off, arrogance kicking back in.

The erotic thrill consumes you, his body reacting to your touch without a clue why. You linger over his heartbeat, strong and steady, a rhythm you’ve lost. Your hand drifts lower, caressing the enormous bulge in his sweats. It throbs, twitching under your spectral fingers, and Rickie shifts, a faint groan escaping his lips. “Must be the meds,” he mutters, oblivious. 

You could stay here forever, savoring the power of this stolen touch, but then you hear it. Death’s annoyed huff echoes down the hall. “Where’d that little shit go? I swear, I’m filing a complaint with HR.”

Panic spikes. You need a hiding spot, somewhere Death won’t look. Your gaze locks on Rickie, and a wild, twisted idea sparks. Possession. You’ve seen it in movies, why not here? His eyes are closed now, head tilted back as he tries to ignore the weird chills and nap. Perfect. You lunge, spectral hands prying at his mouth. It shouldn’t work, but his jaw stretches wide, slow and sensual, blue eyes snapping open in terror. “What the fu-” he chokes, voice hoarse and muffled as you ease your ghostly foot inside, savoring the resistance of his warm, living flesh.

It’s a slow, erotic invasion. Your leg slides down his throat, his body shuddering as he gags, tattooed hands clawing at nothing. You take your time, relishing the stretch of his esophagus, the way his golden frame bucks beneath you. Your second leg follows, inching in as he dry-heaves, spit pooling at the corners of his stubbled mouth. His eyes bulge, wild with panic, but your torso presses in next, filling his chest with your presence. His arms flail, phasing through you, useless against your deliberate descent. Shoulders, arms, each part of you sinks into him, his sun-kissed skin prickling with goosebumps as you meld. Finally, your head slips past his lips, a wet, lingering slide, and his mouth clamps shut. Rickie’s body lurches, limbs thrashing as he collapses onto the bed, sweat beading on his brow.

Alarms scream. Nurses flood in, pinning his seizing arms and legs. “Code blue!” someone shouts. His heart stutters, flatlines, silence stretches, then jolts back, erratic at first, settling into a steady thump. “He’s back! Jesus, what was that? Sprained ankle doesn’t do this!” They stabilize him, voices fading as you settle into the darkness of his flesh.

You don’t wake immediately. First, there’s a heavy warmth, like sinking into a sun-warmed pool. Sensation creeps in, the weight of Rickie’s chest rising with each breath, the dull ache in his sprained ankle, the prickle of sweat on his golden skin. Your fingers twitch, his fingers, thick and strong, nails blunt from years of gripping poles and cash. Your eyes flutter open, slow and groggy, the hospital light harsh against his blue irises. You feel the pull of his eyelids, the faint scratch of stubble as you lick his lips. His heartbeat thuds in your ears, syncing with your awareness. You shift his head, testing the heft of his neck, and a low groan escapes, his voice, now yours, rumbling deep and rich.

A doctor leans over, stern and clipboard in hand. “Do you know where you are? Who you are?” 

You glance down, those sun-kissed abs, those tattooed arms, and grin, the motion unfamiliar but electric on Rickie’s model-like face. “Hospital. Richard Young.” Your voice settles into his throat, smooth and cocky, like it’s always belonged there.

“How do you feel?” the doctor asks.

“More alive than ever,” you say, flexing his fingers, feeling the flesh obey, the tattoos shifting with every move. The doctor nods and leaves, brushing past Death in the doorway.

Death’s arguing with Rickie’s soul, a faint, furious echo of the man you’ve claimed. “You can’t just let him take my body, you prick!” Rickie snarls, swinging a fist at Death. Death slaps him with a bony hand. 

“Oh, shut it, pretty boy, I’m not your babysitter!” They tumble into a ridiculous scuffle, Rickie landing a punch, Death yanking his blonde hair. Finally, Death grabs him by the throat, muttering, “That’s it, you’re done,” and hauls him off, kicking and screaming. You smirk, lounging in your new prize. Looks like you won.

Alone now, you explore him, slow and deliberate. Your hands, Rickie’s hands, roam his body, squeezing his pecs, the flesh firm and warm beneath your touch. You trace his thighs, thick and powerful, the blonde hair catching the light. You slip beneath the sweats, wrapping fingers around his thick, pulsing cock. A groan spills from your lips, his deep, sexy timbre filling the room as you stroke, slow at first, savoring the weight in your grip. Your other hand kneads his pecs, fingers digging into the sun-kissed muscle, rolling a nipple between them. The sensation’s electric, heat pooling low in your gut.

You glance across the room, catching your reflection in a metal tray on the counter. Rickie’s face stares back, blonde stubble framing that square jaw, blue eyes smoldering, short hair tousled just right. Fuck, you’re a god now. The thought ignites you.

You pump faster, moaning louder, his voice growling through the climax as your first load explodes, thick ropes splattering the sheets, coating his abs. You run a hand through it, smearing it over his skin, marveling at the slick heat of him.

You lean back, catching your breath, when a shadow moves. A handsome nurse, sharp-jawed and wide-eyed, freezes at the door, a tray of pills trembling in his hands. “Uh, your meds,” he stammers, stepping closer, cheeks flaming red. 

You catch his wrist, flashing Rickie’s dazzling, arrogant smile. “Might need help showering later, gorgeous. Don’t be shy.” He nods, flustered, and bolts, leaving you chuckling in Rickie’s velvet voice.

You grab Rickie’s phone, facial recognition unlocking it instantly, and scroll through his life. Gigs at glitzy clubs, selfies with adoring fans, DMs dripping with thirst. A stripper’s world, now yours to rule. You lean back, muscular arms behind your head, already plotting. Gay bachelor parties sound like a blast, and with this body, this face, you’ll own every stage, every eye. For now, you bask in the glow of cheating Death, Rickie’s body now yours, his invincibility proven once more. 

You stretch, feeling his flesh ripple, and whisper to yourself, “Rickie Young, huh. Guess I'm the invincible one now...” The words taste sweet on his tongue, and you’re ready to live harder, wilder, than he ever dreamed.

That was until I got to meet my new step bro Calvin. He was a total fucking stud with this blonde hair, blue eyes thing going on. We hit it off right away, probably because we had so much in common. We both liked video games and sports so it was a fast connection. I quickly developed a crush on him but the only problem was that he was as straight as an arrow. Still, I tried to convince myself that maybe one day things would change between us.

Just seeing him though drove me absolutely crazy. He'd walk around the house in nothing but his basketball shorts and I'd be able to see his big package flopping around. He also had the most juicy bubble butt and I could never understand why so many straight guys were gifted with such great asses. It's like they were just meant for sex but were always wasted on them. The first time I saw Calvin naked was when he came out of the shower fully nude. His dick was bigger than mine and he had more body hair too. He was very comfortable with his body and his sexuality so he didn't give a fuck who saw him like that. It was then that I realized that I didn't just like him. I wanted to be him.

So I did some sleuthing online until I found a strange spell to make my desires come true. Apparently after mumbling some mumbo jumbo I'd be given the ability to take over his body and life and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't more than willing to try. I knew it sounded stupid and if this happened to backfire on me then the consequences would be fairly diar but I couldn't help myself. This was something I needed to do for myself. In order to get what you really want sometimes you have to go through some shit. And I was ready to take that risk.

I figured the best time to act was while he was passed out in his bed. He always got home from wrestling and crashed in his room for a few hours before dinner. Upon approaching his door I was met with the familiar tangy smell of his sweaty body. The scent was intoxicating and I never could get enough and soon, it would be mine. I couldn't wait to slide my tongue into the sweaty bushes in his armpits. With that thought in my mind I couldn't contain my excitement any further and I opened his door to go. I wasn't prepared for what I saw when I walked in though.

Almost immediately my cock tented in my shorts seeing his sleeping figure. I had no clue that he slept naked and furthermore the way he had the blanket draped down his body, exposing that perfect ass to me, was driving me crazy. I had to resist the urge to run up and grab it and play with his fuckable globes. Instead, with a deep breath, I sat on the edge of his bed and took in his sleeping form, analyzing each of his tight muscles and the hair that lightly graced the top of his skin. I licked my lips hungrily, knowing that soon enough I would be able to do what I pleased with this fine specimen.

Once I was sure he was asleep I slipped out of my clothes and climbed into his bed beside him. I began stroking my dick as I began to trace my fingers across his back with my other hand, contemplating how I was going to enter his body. Fitting myself inside through his cock would be pretty hot or even going in through his mouth came to mind but after a bit of thinking I decided to go for the back door method. The idea of fitting my entire body up that bubbly ass made my cock only throb that much more as I continued stroking myself.

First I leaned forward and licked at his neck, feeling how smooth and soft his skin was. He stirred slightly but I heard a small snore escape his lips and I could tell he was still sound asleep. Once I was satisfied I traced my tongue down his back, still able to taste the sweat from his workout, knowing he obviously hadn't showered. I then slid my hands under his shoulders and began pulling him towards me. He moaned in his sleep but I ignored it and pressed myself against him. My cock was now pressing into his ass crack and I began grinding my shaft in-between his cheeks. Soon enough this body, his life, would all be mine. I brought my face down to his crack and spread his cheeks wide, exposing his tight little hole.

I rubbed my nose up and down his crack, getting a nice whiff of his musky scent. A moan escaped his mouth as I began licking at his asshole. I could feel his muscles tighten up around me as I pushed my tongue inside of him. I felt a mixture of excitement and fear building up inside me. I couldn't help but wonder if my touch was giving him a hot wet dream as he began grinding his hips into the bed. I wanted to savor every moment of this experience even if things went wrong.

After a good thirty seconds of rimming I pulled my face away, leaving a trail of saliva down his crack. I then grabbed the bottom of his blanket and lifted it off of him. I let out a sigh as I felt his bare ass rub against my groin. I ran my hands over those wonderful cheeks and then moved them down, grabbing his hips.

The spell stated that all I had to do was push myself inside of him and then I could take over his body as my own, so I took a deep breath and pushed a finger into his ass slowly. When he groaned in his sleep I grinned to myself knowing I was about to do the deed. I continued pushing my finger, following it with another, until all of them inside his hole, soon followed by my fist. I used my other hand to pull his ass open wider so I could start shoving my whole arm in. The spell had made his body like elastic and I was pushing myself in with such ease. Within moments my whole forearm was inside of his ass. He groaned a little as I began to shove my other arm in as well.

"Fuck," I whispered, looking down at my arms and how far I had already gone. They were both trapped inside of his ass and I could feel his hole pucker and clench on my skinny arms. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

He groaned again and I noticed he was trying to turn onto his side. As he rolled over he only pushed myself only that much further into himself then all at once my arms were shoulder deep. He must have been able to sense that I was there because he grunted and turned his head back and forth. My heart stopped as I saw his eyes begin to flutter open. He groaned and went to scratch his ass crack when he finally noticed that something was up.

"What... what are you doing?!" He said now fully awake, he tried getting up but with my added weight added to him, he was stuck struggling on the bed.

My dick was rock hard and dripping pre-cum all over his bare legs. I was beyond turned on right now, so fucking horny that I didn't care if he was mad or not. I just wanted to finish this before he tried to stop me. With one swift move I pushed my head into his ass, forcing his hips up higher. I moaned loudly as I felt my body slipping inside of him. His asshole was wet and warm and I could already feel it loosening up around my form.

"What the fuck dude? How are you doing this?" Calvin panicked as he tried to pull me out of him. "I'm you're fuckin step bro."

He tried turning and I could feel him gripping my waist but the more he struggled the quicker I was getting pulled in and soon enough my entire upper body had entered his hole. I moaned harder as I felt my balls press up against his taint as I felt my body start to slip further in. I could feel his wet hole all around my body aside from my bare ass and legs that I could feel hanging in the air ready to follow me in

"Oh shit, oh shit!" Calvin's voice grew louder as I pushed deeper into him. "You can't do this! This is so fucked man, get the hell out of me!"

Calvin's body started trembling and I could feel his virgin hole contracting around me, not used to having anything in it, let alone a whole body. Before long I was almost entirely inside of him, the only thing left were my feet which were quickly following in suit.

"Oh god, please stop!" Calvin said quietly, he sounded like he was going to cry. "Stop it! Please!"

As the intensity of this moment began to get to me I couldn't hold it in any longer as the rest of me entered him. My feet disappeared inside of his nice ass with a loud 'pop' and now I could feel my whole body shifting and moving around in his form.

"Oh fuck!" Calvin cried out as he felt me squirming around under his skin. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

My limbs began to align with his and I could feel the power of his muscles I spent so much time oggling at becoming my own. My arms aligned with his beefy ones as his legs tensed and were filled with mine and I could feel the jiggle of his thighs as they twitched and tensed up around mine. I was taking total control and there was nothing he could do to stop me. He continued to whimper and grunt as he desperately tried to reach his fingers in his hole to pull me out but it was already to late. Soon his body became still and he fell silent as my head shifted into his. All at once the world around me flashed again and I was looking down at his muscular body, except it was mine now. I began running my fingers along the muscles that he worked so hard to earn over the years and couldn't help but laugh to myself knowing that all the work was done just for me to come and take it.

I looked down at my new self and smiled, seeing how handsome I was now. Every inch of my body was ripped and my thick cock was standing straight up between my toned legs. I began to wrap my fingers around my veiny shaft when I heard him yell from deep inside my mind "I can't believe you did this to me! Stop touching my fuckin dick and fix this!"

I couldn't help but chuckle at the idea that he was turned into nothing more than a voice in the back of my head, forced to watch everything I did inside his body but unable to do anything about it. I continued stroking my shaft in total defiance and watched his face twitch as he listened.

"Oh fuck yes," I moaned as I slid my hand back and forth along my cock. "Just look at me, I think I can definitely get used to being you."

I felt my pectorals quiver as I playfully bounced them, appreciating the two mounds of flesh and knowing full well he was forced to watch front row as I started to take full advantage of this body. I smirked and continued to stroke my cock as I began to pinch and toy with my nipples.

"Holy shit that feels good," I grunted as my body shivered under my touch.

"Wow, that's hot man, keep doing that," I heard Calvin groaned in my head, becoming lost in the pleasure. "That really turns me on. Wait no, I don't want this!"

"No reason to fight it man, this is how things are gonna be now. I have complete control over this perfect body." I growled as I pinched my nipple tighter, feeling my chest tighten up as I continued to tease my sensitive buds, which made him shut up as he was overtaken with the pleasure of me playing with our body. Eventually I brought my fingers down to my aching hole and began fingering myself and I could hear him let out a slutty moan as I fingered myself and pounded into my prostate.

"Fuck, I should've never trusted you!" He whimpered as I continued playing with myself but I could tell he was caving and starting to enjoy what I was doing "I don't want this to feel as good as this does. It's so fucked."

"Just stop resisting this then and enjoy it." I ordered him through the back of my mind. "Let yourself go and just feel good. If it feels good then how could it be wrong?"

I leaned back on his bed and began stroking my shaft faster and with more intensity as I continued fingering myself. I was building up to an orgasm that I knew would feel incredible and I wanted to make sure I gave him plenty of time to enjoy watching me cum.

"Oh shit yeah," I groaned as I felt my balls tighten up and slap against my toned thighs, "look at those big fucking balls and your cock is so big, I could wrap both my hands around it. That's it, you're finally letting go. Just let your body do what it wants and we can both get off."

I could hear his heavy breathing as I pumped my fist furiously along my shaft leaking precum all over my hand. I brought the tip of my finger up to my lips where I stuck out my tongue and licked them clean. The image of me licking my own fingers pushed Calvin and he began grunting and moaning as I went back to stroking myself.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," I heard him moan as he watched me jack off. "You're such a bitch, this is so hot! Fuck that's hot!"

I could tell he was enjoying this as he continued to moan. His pleasure was building me up and I could feel my egg sized balls begin to tense up, getting ready to drop a thick load. I threw my head back against the bed and closed my eyes as I began to thrash my body around. I pulled my fingers from my ass and wrapped both my fists around my shaft. My body was trembling and I knew I wouldn't last long before I erupted.

"Oh fuck!" I screamed as I felt my toes curl and my body stiffen. Calvin was whimpering by now also as he got ready for me to shoot his load all over our chest "Shit, that's it, here I go! Oh fuck, I'm cumming!"

My body spasmed for a few seconds before I exploded, shooting cum everywhere. I must have shot half a gallon onto my stomach and chest but I didn't care as I kept pumping myself off feeling some splash onto my perfectly sculpted jawline, until my body was completely drained of every last drop. I fell back on the bed and sighed as my exhausted body relaxed.

"Man, that was intense," I said out loud. "If you hadn't been in there moaning like such a bitch I probably would've taken way longer to cum."

"I hate to admit it but it was pretty hot... What... What am I supposed to do now though?" Calvin asked. "I mean, I guess you got what you wanted."

"Yeah, thanks for that by the way, not that you really had much of a choice." I laughed as I headed for the bathroom and grabbed a towel and began wiping my load off of myself "I have a lot of plans for the both of us"

"So this is it? I'm just a voice in your head now while I watch you do whatever you please with my body and life?"

"Pretty much," I answered as I pulled my phone out and began taking some hot selfies in the bathroom mirror. "But I think you're gonna like it this way. You felt how good it was when I came which means you're gonna have some pretty amazing orgasms in your future."

"Fuck, I hope so, if it feels that good each time I'm sold" he said as I looked into the camera and smiled. "Still don't know how I feel about my gay brother taking control of me though."

“Let’s go!” Your bro throws down his game controller and looks over at you. His confident smile adorning his handsome, angular face, “I used that same move on the ice the other day.” His clear excitement is infectious and you can’t help but smile.

It was another one of your usual game nights with your bro. The two of you sitting on the couch, controllers in hand, playing some hockey videogame. And even though he always seemed to win, you just enjoy the moment. Your friendship started out when you were younger- the two of you meeting in grade school. And as the years went on, you grew closer. You’d go to his hockey games and cheer him on. He’d fill in as that male role model you needed. When you went to college, he’d continue playing hockey, while you focused on your studies. But you continued to enjoy each other’s company. But this was your last year, and he planned to move across the country. The very thought was painful. Losing him would be tough.

“Hey, you good?” He asks, “I told you I wasn’t going easy.”

You smile, “I was wondering,” You begin, “I know you don’t like beer...”

“Gotta keep these toned.” He says, running a hand down his exposed abs.

“But it’s bro night.” You continue, “I got some special beers for us.”

He seems to consider the offer. Part of him looking a bit apprehensive. After all, he spent much of his time focusing on maintaining his body. His lean muscles and thicc hockey butt were all products of his careful diet and dedicated workouts. But he could tell it would mean a lot to you. He nods slowly.

“One won’t hurt.” He says with a grin, “Cheers to another game night.”

Part of you feels relieved. Another part of you feels somewhat apprehensive. If the man you bought this beer from was telling you the truth... well, you didn’t know what to think. It was probably some prank anyway, and you probably wasted the money. You hand him a solo cup with the beer in it.

“To bro night.” He smiles and takes a sip of the beer, “You know, I’m gonna miss this.” You feel a pang of sadness in your chest, “But we’ll always be bros.”

You nod, taking in his words. Feeling a sense of impending loss. Wishing you could just enjoy these moments forever.

“I’m gonna miss this too... dad.”

He looks over at you and raises an eyebrow, “What did you just call me?” He chuckles.

And you can see it. A few hairs starting to emerge from his once clean-shaven face. A few greys appearing in his brunette locks. Was it true? Was this stuff really going to do what the man said it would?

“Nothing, dad.”

And as the words leave your lips, your buddy groans. His youthful skin starts to lose its glow. A few wrinkles appear on his forehead. And the hair on his face sprouts into a full beard. His hands rush to scratch his new facial hair and his eyes widen.

“Bro, what the hell...” He whispers, “Something’s wrong...”

“What do you mean, dad?”

You watch as his brunette locks begin to recede and his tan vanishes. All the while, small, itchy hairs start to sprout from your buddy’s chest and abs. At this point, he stands up and runs his hands down his new body hair. There’s a look of disgust and confusion on his face, and you can’t help but feel bad for him. After all, he did pride his clean-shaven look.

“You keep calling me dad.” He says, staring at you, “And now...” He catches a glimpse of his receding hairline and aged skin in the mirror, “Bro, please. Whatever you’re doing, you gotta fuckin’ stop.”

You could tell he was getting angry. But you were still marveling over the effects of this drink. You couldn’t believe it was actually working.

“Bro, are you even listening to me?” He says, “Please! You can’t...”

“Sorry dad.” You reply, putting even more emphasis on “dad.”

The effects are more dramatic. Your buddy lets out a pained moan and falls to his knees, gripping his abs. You can see tears fall from his eyes as he realizes his firm abs are feeling softer. And in only a few moments, his abs are covered by a thick layer of fat. And another. And another. And although your buddy is too busy squeezing his new flabby stomach, you can see his pecs fill with fat and sag, resting atop his new gut.

“This can’t be...” He winces at his new, gravelly voice, “Oh god, I sound so old.” He looks up at you, tears still staining his eyes, “Dude, come on... please... I can’t be this.”

A part of you feels bad, even guilty. Your friend’s anger replaced by fear. His confidence shattered. His toned physique truly replaced by that of a middle-aged dad. Part of you wants to reverse this. But you don’t even know how.

“I...” You bite your lip, “Look, I don’t even know if I can undo this, dad.”

Your buddy shuts his eyes and shakes as the short hairs erupt into longer follicles. You watch as a forest of hairs emerge from under his shorts and travel down his legs. His new gut and soft chest are covered in a forest of gray and dark hairs. And you realize now there’s nothing left of your old buddy, at least physically. His receding hairline, gray hairs, gut, and hirsute form all scream middle-aged dad. He slowly stands up, wincing at a pain in his lower back and knees, as he becomes more familiar with his new age.

“Dude...” He whispers, “What did you do?” You can hear the anger return to his voice.

“I didn’t want to lose you, bro.” You say, “And I’ve always looked up to you. And truthfully, I’ve always wanted a dad and the beer promised it could do that. Just as long as I called whoever drank it dad.” Your friend looks shocked and picks up the solo cup.

“Good one dude.” He laughs, “Okay, okay you got me. Maybe if I drink the beer and you call me bro or something, I can return to normal.” He says hopefully, “I promise we can forget all about this.” The desperation starts to creep back into his voice, “Just... please I don’t want this.” He begs.

You’re not a bad person. You even feel a bit guilty. And part of you even wants to do as he suggests. But another thought enters your head. Would he be able to forget all about this? Would he forgive you? You bite your lip and sigh.

“I’m sorry,” You can see his eyes widen in terror, “Dad.”

He drops the beer in his hand, causing the beer inside to spray everywhere. His eyes glaze over and his jaw goes slack. A part of you worries for a moment, but slowly he smiles. There’s no evidence of concern on his face.

“Ah sorry, I spaced out there for a second.” He chuckles, “Looks like I made a mess.” He goes to bend over to pick up the cup, but winces, “Damn back’s been acting up.”

“Don’t worry dad.” You say as he sits back down on the couch, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” He reassures, “Come on, we have to finish our game.” He says with a grin, grabbing the game controller, “You know, I was quite the hockey player back in my day. Well before this.” He chuckles, patting his beer gut.

“I know.” You reply, sitting next to him, “You tell me all the time.” The two of you start to play, and you immediately notice his videogame skills are not where they used to be. But you’re enjoying this moment- going on as if nothing changed.

“Look at that!” He cheers when he scores a goal, “I told you not to take it easy on me, son.”

You go to reply but you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You quickly shake your head and return to the game. And only a few minutes later, he scores another goal.

“You doing okay there, son?” He asks.

And again, you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You look down at the controller and can’t help but notice that your forearms look a bit thicker- your hands meatier. You shake your head and look up at your dad.

“Uh, I’m good dad.” Your voice even sounds deeper- somewhat dumb too, “I-I gotta go to my room.”

You stumble towards your room, feeling somewhat off balance. Entering your room, you’re immediately hit by the smell of intense BO. The same way your bro would smell after a hockey game. There’s gear on your bed and random posters of hockey players on your walls. You barely have time to comprehend what’s going on, when you hear your dad’s voice.

“Hey son, are you okay?”

You groan as your muscles begin to contract violently and your shirt tears from your growing musculature. You can see yourself in the mirror- abs, thicc ass, and lean muscles- the body of a hockey player. And you realize that you’re becoming your dad’s ideal son. Somehow, the beer that splashed on you had the same effects as drinking it.

“Wait dad!” You call out, wincing at the oafish jock-like tone that saturates your words, “Please...!”

“Son?” He asks opening the door.

And your eyes glaze over. Your jaw goes slack. And you feel your mind warping and changing. Any memories you had of your old life or self are being forced into the very back of your mind- all to make room for your new existence as a smelly, ripped, hockey jock. Your dad’s perfect son.

“God it reeks in here.” Your dad laughs, patting you on the back, “Must be workin’ hard out there.”

“You fuckin’ know it.” You reply, eyes dull, “It’s gonna be a good game tomorrow, pops.”

“You learned from the best, champ.” He smiles, “Now come on, we got a game to finish.” You smile, “I want to show you one of my favorite moves. Worked every time. Maybe you can try it out on the ice tomorrow.”

“For sure, pops.”

After saving up for years and working hard, I finally manifested my dream of visiting Osaka, Japan. Ever since I was a kid, I've always wanted to visit this city. There's just something about Osaka that intrigues me... Sure, Tokyo and Kyoto are cool too, but Osaka always stood out to me as special. I mean, I'm a huge fan of Capcom video games and Osaka just happens to be where Capcom is headquartered. Plus, Universal Studios has always been on my bucket list!

Anyway, I stayed at a small Airbnb because it was much more affordable for my budget and I had the place to myself near downtown. My Airbnb was within walking distance of a dojo, and I thought the traditional building looked interesting. Since today was my last day here in Osaka before flying back home tomorrow, I decided to check out that dojo.

The guy who seemed like the guard at the dojo was nice enough to let me look around. Of course, I had to snap a few pictures. As I peeked inside, I saw people training. Mostly younger guys and girls, but my eyes were glued to the buff, hot coaches. They looked exactly like the Bara guys I always draw: big, chunky, muscular, and sexy.

“Judo, huh… interesting.”

I wandered around a bit more. The place had a sort of museum vibe, with everything looking like it belonged in a picture. But then, I ended up lost and stumbled into a room.

“Oh crap…” I thought. Shouldn’t have gone this far... It felt like I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. When I tried to leave, the door wouldn’t budge. I twisted the knob a few times, but it felt like someone had locked it from the outside.

“Dammit! If they find me here, I’ll be in so much trouble!”

I looked around for another way out, but there was just that door and it was stuck. Oh great...

“Sumimasen! Sumimasen!” I called out, but no one heard me.

I sat on a bench feeling frustrated, my mind started racing of worst case scenarios. Getting locked inside a dojo wasn’t something I saw coming today. What if they thought I was trying to steal something? I couldn’t handle the idea of ending up in a Japanese jail or worse, getting deported… What a nightmare that would be, right!

“Huh? What’s that smell??”

Suddenly, a strong scent hit me. It was sweaty and musky.. like something damp and unwashed. It was definitely a man’s smell. I glanced around and saw a locker in front of me, its door slightly open. I got curious, so I opened it wider. The smell got stronger, making me cover my nose.

“Ugh! How long has this been sitting here!” 

Inside was a gi, hanging up.

“This must belong to someone, but damn, they need to wash this shit!”

I reached out and grabbed it. Just as I expected, it was slightly damp, and around the neckline and armpits were these yellowish stains. For some reason, I felt a sudden warmth and noticed my dick starting to react.

“Ta…kagi?” I noticed the name embroidered on the kimono. It must’ve belonged to Takagi-san. “Must be one of the coaches…”

Then a weird intrusive  thought hit me. What if…? I glanced around, just to make sure I was still alone in the room.. Part of me hesitated, thinking it was stupid. I didn’t want to end up smelling like this thing, but… I was curious, okay, and for some reason I felt strangely turned on… 

“Ehh, no one’s gonna see me anyway...”

So, I took off my t-shirt and pants. I couldn’t believe I was doing this, it felt so wrong, but the curiosity and thrill were too much to ignore.. I took another deep whiff of the kimono. “Fuck, this stinks…” I groaned, but instead of being disgusted, I felt my body react in ways I didn’t expect…

And before I knew it, I was slipping my arms into the kimono, buckling the black belt around me. The smell seemed to wrap around me, making me feel weirdly warm. I slid into the pants too and grabbed my phone, looking at myself in the camera. The gi hung loose on my small frame.

“I wonder what Takagi-san looks like—”

NNGHH!

Out of nowhere, I felt a hard punch to my back, then my stomach. My body jerked, and my back arched. No one was here, but it felt so real. Was it a ghost??

My body heated up, and I started sweating. Then came this cracking sound. My toes and feet were growing in size and reshaping, and I could feel something growing inside me, like my stomach was expanding. My skinny figure started to grow with muscles. It was painful, but in a weird way, it felt… good? The cracks and crunching noises filled the room.

I scratched at my chest and stomach as thick hair started sprouting all over.. “Fuckk.. itchy!” I groaned, feeling my voice crack. Like something lodged in my throat. The smell coming off my body was strong now, filling the air around me.

I touched my chest, now covered in thick hair, and felt the sweat dripping from my pits. My body kept changing. I felt a tugging sensation on my hair, as chunks of my hair fell to the floor. It was all gone, leaving me with a short, oily crew cut. I ran my fingers through it and couldn’t resist bringing them to my nose to smell… 

「 やべ ! 」 I muttered in Japanese. 「いい匂いだね …」(Fuckk! Smells so good…)

My dick throbbed hard, dripping. Then my face started to shift, like something was moving under my skin. My features became more rugged, more masculine. I looked older, and Japanese. 

“Ohhh…” I groaned as a thick beard sprouted on my chin. As the changes finished, I came hard, my cum spilling out onto the gi, making a huge mess. I was gasping, shuddering in pleasure. Still trying to process what just happened…

I grabbed my phone again, opened the camera, and froze. My jaw dropped… 

NO FREAKING WAY. 

That face… was that Takagi-san?? I looked down at my round, hairy stomach and chest, my fingers trailing over the thick hair. “Ohhh… so good,” I muttered to myself in Japanese. I actually looked like one of the coaches I saw earlier… but way hotter and bigger.

Just as I was trying to make sense of it all, suddenly I heard a noise coming from the door that was stuck, creaked open.

「 おお、高木さん！やっと見つけた。生徒たちが待ってるよ—練習の時間だよ。」( Ah, Takagi-san! There you are, I’ve been looking for you! The students are waiting, it’s time for your lesson.” a guy said in Japanese. He was one of the men I’d seen earlier, somehow I understood what he was saying completely… 

I was still speechless, too stunned to reply. 

「 高木さん？大丈夫？」 (Takagi-san..? You okay??) he asked, looking at me with confusion.

Oh no… I had actually turned into Takagi-san. A freaking judo coach. Guess this trip was going to be way longer than I thought.

But looking at myself, with a face and body like this,  I didn’t really mind. Staying like this from now on…. 

In celebration of my 3 year anniversary of writing on here as well as reaching 3.5K followers and 200 posts, I present the tale of how I came about my latest body!!

I walked briskly down the street to a secluded part of the city. Rush hour was over, and as expected, virtually nobody was around as far as I could tell. I scanned my surroundings, turned left, and hurried down a narrow alleyway. I froze when I heard a noise behind me, but thankfully, it was just a couple of rats scouring through a nearby dumpster. 

I sighed a breath of relief. I realized I needed to hurry up and dump this body while there were still no potential witnesses around. There was no telling when someone might pass by and catch a glimpse of me de-possessing someone. The fewer complications, the better.