Mad for plaid
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Mad for plaid

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Body Physique
My stretch marks !

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This little glow up on Massive Monday! Just see how much Iâve grown in the past 3 years!
Body Physique
I wonder what coach would say
Iâd say you need to start chugging more shakes
The work desk was no place for underwear. Still, there was always a pair sitting on Kurtâs desk no matter how many times you reminded him. âItâs just there to dry out from the gym,â Heâd claim, wanting an excuse to bring up how he worked out every morning.
It showed. Kurt had a body you drooled over- solid arms dusted with the perfect amount of fur, a V-shaped back you swooned whenever you were behind him. Collared shirts barely fit him, his biceps bulging against the sleeves, his chest making the top impossible to button. His manliness was accentuated by the full beard he prided himself in growing.
Still, as his manager, it was your job to make sure the workspace was kept appropriate. The fact that his briefs had become a norm was going to be a problem for you.
What you didnât expect was when you got a picture text from his number. You opened the chat to look, and immediately felt nervous at the contents. There was no doubt it was a picture of you, in your office with your work shirt on, the logo clearly visible. The one thing that wasnât on was your pants, you holding your hard cock- a picture youâd taken a while ago but kept on the app.
You had no choice but to step into Kurtâs office.
Kurt looked up, clearly expecting you, leaning back to put his hands behind your head. Your heart skipped a beat looking at his figure, but you had to start.
âHey, saw what you sent. Wanted to make expectations clear that that was not appropriate and what can be done to avoid taking this issue further.â
Kurt smiled, hearing almost exactly what heâd wanted. âTwo things,â He said. âFirst, my underwear is allowed to dry out since you keep bringing it up.â
You felt pained, no option but to turn a blind eye. Either way would end up in HR, but this one was better.
âSecond, since your profile said you love giving oral-â Kurt lowered his arms to the zipper on his pants, quickly unbuttoning and pulling down the waist to expose his commando style. âI want to feel what thatâs like.â
You stood there, shocked. Youâd considered what heâd tasted like, but never thought for a second heâd be into that. You couldnât deny your want, your bulge quickly growing. You were too late to stop the drop of saliva from dripping out of your open mouth.
Kurt just smiled, giving his tool a small shake to let it stiffen.
You took a breath. You were going to get it over with. You would do it quick. And you would enjoy it.
You bent down in front of his chair, getting on your knees. Kurt placed his hand on the back of your head- not in a forceful way, but caring, leading you down onto his shaft. You sucked your lips over your teeth, allowing your spit to lube his shaft as his head dragged against the roof of your mouth.
Kurt didnât trim. His bush surrounded your entire nose, the curls reaching up your cheeks. You werenât sure how well he showered after the gym, the smell of fresh sweat still remaining on his tool. You enjoyed it.
You supported your arms by laying them across Kurtâs thick thighs, your shoulders holding your head loosely and allowing it to fall. His legs were bigger than you thought, their mass squeezing around you slightly, bringing you closer.
Kurt exhaled on your head as he breathed through his mouth. You tried to stifle a moan as you felt his member toy with the back of your throat. You could tell he enjoyed the vibration, his feeling of control over you. You worked your head back and forth, moving his swollen tip across your tongue. You felt precum draining from him, its taste making its way down your throat.
You couldnât stop as habit took over. You felt your mind go silent, let nature take control as you made sure he felt pleasure. Kurt twitched under your grasp, your only focus to drain your employee of his cum. His legs flexed harder, his hands gripped your shoulders stronger. You heard him gasp as you succeeded, his cock jumping in your mouth moments before he shot.
More fluid than you expected flooded into your mouth, coating your entire tongue and throat in salt. You stopped your gag reflex, the thick drops filling your entire cavity. Its smell went up your nose, leaving your mind drifting in a heavenly high.
Thatâs when you realized you couldnât swallow. The smell continued growing more intense no matter how hard you tried. In a moment it became all you could focus on, overwhelming your other senses. You thought your body was only numb from exertion, but something was wrong- you couldnât move. You couldnât even form words with what felt like his seed plastered inside your skull.
His hand wrung around your neck, pulling you into the crevices of his groin. You didnât think it was possible to go that deep, yet you felt as light as air, the moisture of his seed felt across your entire body. It was all your tongue could taste, any feeling of it inside your mouth gone.
Thatâs when you realized. You didnât have a mouth. You didnât even have a body. Your entire weight was held in his hand, along with whatever was deposited on you from inside his sack.
âBoss,â You heard Kurt say aloud, reading the black letters from your waistband. You were a pair of briefs, unable to move, soaked in his fluids. His scent was all you could feel, slowly permeating into you as his discharge dried. âGuess I better let you air out,â He said, placing you right besides his keyboard.
You had a perfect view of him for the rest of the day as crust formed on your body, your mind living in the smell of his dried cum.

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Jeff didn't understand what was happening to his body. He had been one of the most ripped and toned guys on the football team, smooth muscles wrapping around his body, defined valleys in his skin.
Then came the summer he was sent home with a packet and mass gainer his coach had provided. The packet had two sections: A workout schedule and calorie tracker. Each day was specific, exactly what exercises to do and what to eat. It went all the way to the next season, including the days when school had already started.
Jeff didn't give it a second thought. The packet wasn't meant to let him think- it gave him exactly how much milk he should drink, how much protein powder he was to consume, how much lifting he expected to do.
Jeff didn't notice how it was all primarily lower body focused- squats, lunges, core. It had arm work too, but other than that it had little for his upper body. He didn't see how he was meant to be having 7,000 calories a day by the end of the summer, almost all of it in dairy. He didn't understand how all of it was meant to increase his estrogen level, make him the perfect obedient player that would follow coach's orders.
Jeff didn't think about how his balls seemed to rise high, keeping close to his body. He didn't notice how his cock shrunk in his hand, the head not even reaching his thumb. He didn't care how he grew several pants sizes, his ass wide and fat while his shirts stayed the same. It wasn't until a pool party that his friends noticed, pointing out his tits.
"They're pecs," Jeff tried correcting, only for them to laugh.
"Have you looked?"
It was only then, in the bathroom changing, did Jeff finally see. The body he'd been working hard on growing, following direction- it was nothing like the body he started summer with. His legs and waist were thick, his cock small between his massive legs. Then his chest- it wasn't the defined shelf he was used to. His tits stuck out, flat against fatty nips that hung rounded above his gut. He took a pic, comparing it to his old photos, only now feeling how much his body had grown to be controlled.
Tim had always wanted to be a man. He was only drawn to the same role models growing up: the men with shaved heads, full beards, and muscles that popped out of their shirts. There was something about the way the traps wrapped their neck to give them a massive appearance, while the light dusting of hair on their chest and arms adorned their bulging muscles. It was what Tim hoped for himself.
The moment Tim could, he started working on the body he wanted. Soon after spending a significant time in the gym, the extra testosterone flooding through his system quickly changed him. His muscles formed curves in his skin, his shoulders widened, his face changed as hair began spreading across his cheeks. It wa fine that his head had trouble growing hair, there was enough spreading on his body anyway.
What no one had warned him about, however, was the smell. The first time he caught a whiff of it was headed home from the gym, his shirt drenched in sweat. It didnât smell bad- it was as if his hard work had been given an aura. It was his pits that emanated it the most, and whenever Tim smelled it, everything relaxed. His mind simplified, his body felt right. It was the best relief he could have asked for, hormones flooding his head and shutting off his thoughts.
The smell became all Tim wanted to live in. He rarely showered with soap now, letting his scent soak into his curls. He let his mustache grow, hoping the smell would settle permanently under his nose. Every time after the gym, heâd spend the car ride with his shirt off, getting as much of the fresh sweat in his head as possible. His eyes dimmed, few thoughts remaining, little more going on in his head than the thought of pumping iron and existing in his state of bliss.
Evan was never bright at school. Luckily, he was able to get along just fine, taught by his parents at a young age that the only important thing was blind obedience. Growing up in a redneck town, he was quick to join the foobtall team, helped by coach to bulk his body, and get used to manual labor once he graduated. He still often wore his school jockstrap, too dim to think it had any other purpose otherwise. He was strong and lean at the time, at least, until the events of the past year.
Evan wasn't very political. All he was taught was blue bad, red good, and he shouldn't think any other way. The city was raving when the food charts got updated by the government- red meat, dairy, carbs, fat, all was ideal. If the president said so, it must be so. That was all Evan's meals consisted of now.
Evan was ecstatic to see his body begin to grow with the new diet, his belief in the president reinforced. He loved feeling more weight in his step. He loved how his shirts and pants grew tighter, how his clothes seemed to constantly shift and expose his skin as if he were a giant. Bigger was better, right?
Evan was too blind to see his body composition change. How all his growth was fat, his body growing plump and soft. He didn't think about how he was constantly out of breath, struggling to lug his new weight around. He didn't realize how his strength was less effective, a beast burdened by its own size. He became plush like a pillow, swollen skin against skin, a buttery chest growing over a dropping belly. All his definitions disappeared, his muscles sinking into a sea of lard.
Evan had never cared to pay attention in health class. He didn't realize just how his body affected him: How all his excess fat lowered his testosterone, how all the excess dairy increased estrogen. He didn't realize how his once dominant-focused mind had changed, submissive hormones taking control. He didn't need to think. He just needed to obey, take all changes passively, not care that his own government was fattening him up so he'd stay dumb and complacent to his own exploitation.

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