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Four days into their stay at their Airbnb, John and Tim get the evacuation notice. Apparently, some company has accidentally had some experimental gas leak into the surrounding areas. They were supposed to be here for a week, a much needed vacation from their lives. Tim getting over a rough breakup with his boyfriend and John just needing a break from his horrendous corporate job.

After getting the email, John gets a text from Tim, who's out buying groceries for the big dinner they were planning on cooking together. They've been friends for so long. John having a debilitating crush on Tim but Tim has made it clear that he doesn't want to ruin their friendship. Considerate but it still hurts when people think they're a couple and Tim has to clarify that they're just friends.

The nearest grocery store is around 5 miles away. John cannot imagine the traffic. A ten minute drive probably doubled.

John: Be safe! Do you have a mask in the car?

Tim: yeah make sure all the windows are closed. I'll be back as soon as I can.

John's in his pajamas - just a T-shirt and boxers - and his bathrobe. According to the email, the gas smells musky, and is not "contagious" as far as the company is aware. Which is strange enough to make John wonder what this company was making. He's never even heard of it and a bunch of Google searches yields nothing. He starts in the living room and makes sure the glass door to the pool is shut tight, the front door and windows. Then into the kitchen/dining room. Down the hall into the bathroom where a small window in the shower is closed tightly.

On his way to Tim's bedroom, he pauses. Takes a good long whiff. It's like a locker room has suddenly appeared in the bedroom and a bunch of hot sweaty men are in there post-workout.

Oh no.

Covering his mouth with his shirt, he runs down the hall to find the open window in Tim's room. The smell is so overwhelming it seeps through his shirt and makes him cough. He shuts the window and locks it, makes sure it's completely sealed as the gas, almost like a fog rolling off a lake, goes into John's lungs and fills the small bedroom. His heart pounds as he takes his phone out of his pockets with shaky hands, desperately searching for the evacuation email for a phone number, a website, any kind of instructions on what to do if you accidentally inhale the gas.

But there's nothing.

Doesn't help either that his hands are burning, a pleasant tingly burn that makes his heart thud harder, makes him take deeper breaths and inhale more of the gas, and makes him notice that his hands are, in fact, growing. Blood slowly pumps into his cock as he holds a hand to his face and watches as his fingers stretch and expand, the palms inflating and fattening, wrists widening. The growth is slow and feels so good. All these bones and muscles growing and rearranging should be painful, but instead, it makes his cock rigid, harder than it's ever been in his life, as he drops his phone on the floor. He holds both of his hands in front of his face as they grow into huge, meaty paws. Big hands with thick fingers, the kind of hands attached to jocks or bodybuilders. He also sees that they're darkening, becoming tan. No not tanned, this looks like a new skin color overtaking his pale skin. The burn goes away and he's left staring at this massive hands, with a hard cock pressing against his boxers.

He makes a fist with his hands and moans, the action sending pure sex to his cock, which feels much more sensitive than it used to. He uncurls his fingers - fuck, fuck, fuck - as he grabs his phone. He tries using his fingerprint but the phone doesn't recognize it. Panicking, he stumbles out into the hallway as his cock heaves forward, like it's trying to fuck something, as his feet start burning. He trips over them and lands on his sensitive, bigger hands as he feels his toes and feet start thickening and growing and putting immense strain on his socks. He hugs his stomach as a bunch of horny butterflies just settle there as his feet stretch and grow, ripping right through his socks as his darker toes poke through, the soles widening and filling with strong, lithe muscle and veins. He tries his hardest to suppress the loud moans he wants to make, instead covering his mouth with his big hands and whimpering into the palms as he lies on the floor, his feet pushing into double digit territory. He looks like a freak, with massive hands and size 14 feet attached to unremarkable arms and legs, both two shades darker than the rest of his body.

A huge wet spot forms on the front of his boxers as a loud, sighing moan escapes his lips.

He's never cum hands free before.

His cock pulses and the swollen head rubs against the fabric in such a way that it makes his legs shake, trembling as it feels like his cock is getting an expert handjob. But it's still rock hard, as if he hadn't just cum, as he stands and staggers on his bigger feet into the kitchen. He pants, sweat starting to drip down his face, as he leans onto the counter and tries unlocking his phone. His nipples tighten and then harden against his white T-shirt, now being stained with the sweat pouring out of his body. Fuck he can smell himself. He's starting to smell like the gas. This thick, musky, gym rat funk that he, unathletic him, is starting to produce. With his phone in one hand, he brings the other, trembling hand to a nipple which is so hard, harder than he's ever known his nipples to get. The moment his hand touches his nipple, he moans like he's getting fucked and his knees buckle, the sensation so overwhelming he's cumming again, soaking through his boxers. His hand spasms and he throws his phone into the living room.

John crawls to the living room, leaving a snail trail of musky cum into the living room. The pleasure is so overwhelming he can't think straight, crawling on his elbows as the dark tan races up his hands and into his forearms, that pleasurable burn causing his forearms to bloat and expand. Dark hair bursts from his pores as he collapses - face down, ass up - as he squeezes his eyes shut, silently pleading for it to stop as his biceps start expanding and straining his sleeves. His overheating forehead feels incredible on the cold tile as he flexes involuntarily as his biceps split the sleeves, his shoulders widening and tearing through his soaked T-shirt. His eyes pop open as he can feel his pit hairs become denser, thicker and darker, damp with sweat with powerful musk radiating through the widening tear of his bloating biceps, muscular shoulders pressing against the soft robe and making him hump the air once as another orgasm rips through him. He leans against the couch as he flexes his bicep and moans at the huge peak splitting the rest of his sleeves, the huge muscle exposed to the air as well as the jungle of his pit hairs.

Panting, sweaty, cock steel hard and a hormonal fog smothering his brain, John grabs his phone and calls Tim. He rubs his stomach as he feels his soft gut gurgle and twitch, the fat underneath his hand squirming and preparing for something. He goes cross-eyed at the sensation as his cock jumps in his boxers.

"John, holy shit you won't believe it! I don't know what this gas is doing but it's making dudes jerk off in the store and fuck each other! The cashier who checked me out was getting absolutely railed."

"Tim.."

He feels his gut implode as the fat in his stomach suddenly shifts in two directions. First up into his flat, slightly pudgy chest, and then down into his flat ass. His ass cheeks stretch and inflate, as a few pounds of fat land squarely in them. Both sensations make him throw his head back against the couch and moan, literally screaming in pleasure as he starts grinding his bigger, plushier ass on the floor, the tightness of his boxers intensifying the pleasure.

"John!?"

"I - I inhaled - pant - inhaled some of the gas."

His pecs swell behind his swollen nipples, splitting his shirt right down the middle. Hairy, muscular cleavage exposed as the dark color spreads through his pecs, bloating them with muscle and fat. It spreads to his neck and he can feel his Adam's apple inflate into a huge knob in his neck, throat widening and expanding.

"Your - your window was open. Aw FUCK."

His voice is so deep, so sexy. A hint of a Greek accent comes through and textures his words.

"John!? What's happening to you!?"

His pecs inflate with muscle and fat, nipples spreading and just dragging against the damp fabric making him moan and groan as they keep growing. A pair of huge, muscular tits that belong to him and him alone. He doesn't really have it in him to explain what's happening. Because he's so horny and also because his brain feels so sluggish, the panic and fear he felt earlier slowly receding as his pecs give a final lurch and form an enviable shelf above his now flat stomach. The top of his tit-flesh presses against his robe and it feels so good. He needs a pair of hands worshiping and squeezing these muscles. Yeah, that's all he needs. A nice cute bottom to suck his cock, give up their ass to him, worship his sweaty hairy muscles. Those beautiful pecs, suck on his greedy nipples.

His back expands and stretches, shredding his shirt as dense muscle packs into his torso. He takes his big, strong hands and rips his shirt off as he feels hair grow on his stomach, connecting to the growing bush of musky pubes above his cock. He looks down and sees his expanding abs punching through his skin, tightening and flexing as his waist and hips widen, snapping the waistband of his boxers. He can feel a brief moment of clarity claw its way through the horny fog in his mind as another few shots of cum exit his cock.

"Tim, Tim, don't - MMPH - don't come back."

"I'm not going to leave you here!"

"Tim this isn't a- FUCK!" An Adonis belt goes straight to his hard, trembling, oozing cock. A thick 8-pack carves through his hairy, sweaty tanned skin, as he rubs his hands up and down his washboard abs, feeling the little bit of unburned fat softening them. The strength of his core is so erotic, so intoxicating. Fuck how many sit-ups can he do? "I don't - I don't think I'm gonna be here much longer."

His face tickles as his lips expand into kissable, plump lips and a beard grows across his jaw. It's thick and dense, covering his chiseling jaw, the model-worthy cheekbones.

"I'm hanging up. I'll be there soon! Hang on!"

But John - John? - really can't.

Not when he doesn't even remember his own name.

The deep skin tone spreads to his lower body, and he groans as his ass inflates even more, his hole spasming and becoming so sensitive it makes him fall onto his back, writhing as his ass rips through the back of his tight boxers. The cheeks bloat with pounds and pounds of muscle and fat, the weight hanging off his lower back and jiggling, the plush ass pressing against the cool tiles and relieving the pressure on his hot bulge. He rips his boxers off and lets his soft, muscular bubble butt inflate and drag on the floor as his cock slaps his lower abs, the big pink head oozing pre onto his hairy abs and thick pubes. He grabs fistfuls of his ass and feels the flesh spill through his hands, thick fingers teasing his sensitive hole. His fat ass jiggles as he thrusts into the air, moaning in his sexy voice, as his hair grows thick and lush.

He closes his eyes and feels himself melt, going all the way down to his balls which bloat and grow, swelling into massive golf balls as his cum churns in his fat balls. His thighs grow, inflating into thick pillars of hairy flesh as the dark skin inflates his calves, spreading hair everywhere. His thick thighs grow with muscle and fat, pressing into his balls and forcing them forward. They're so hot, so full. The load he's about to dump will be huge, and after that...he will be gone. With each pulsating wave of growth across his thighs, his hips push wider as his ass grows bigger to make his thighs work to carry the fat, swaying masses of flesh on his lower back. He rubs his thighs, flexing and squeezing the muscles, feeling how thick and strong they are.

He oozes sex and unbridled hormones. He could fuck a man into next year, leave them a whimpering, cum-filled mess in his big arms. Or a guy could get lost in his hole, that soft ass of his.

He lets go of his thighs and flexes his biceps, exposing his musky pits as the dark color finally begins spreading along his below-average - below-average? that can't be right - cock and making it jump and twitch and slap his abs. He feels his cock pump and pulse harder, so much blood pouring into it he feels lightheaded. The old him leaks through his cock and coats his pubes and hairy abs, musky and thick. He gathers some on his fingers, careful not to touch his swelling sensitive cockhead, and tastes himself.

Fuck I taste good.

He sucks his fingers like he's sucking a cock. His own cock stretching into above average territory, but not the overblown man-meat he's going to possess. The edging he's going through as his cock stretches and grows, extending towards his belly button, blows out whatever brain cells he has left. Whatever brain cells that are not totally devoted to getting off, lifting, and simple survival are destroyed as his still growing cock cums like a broken dam. He blacks out, shutting his eyes and feeling like he's falling, tumbling into his fat balls and then firing out of his massive cock. It's a cock built for fucking. It cruises past 8 inches into 9 inches with no problem, thickening as he continues to erupt. The sheer amount of cum is staggering. Thick. Musky. So manly. So strong.

After what feels like an hour, his cock finally stops shooting at 9.5 inches. Out of breath and smelling like he's just gotten back from the gym, he rubs his sticky, cum covered body. A few more burps of cum exit his cock, and along with it, any of his old worries and fears.

Jace opens his eyes as his phone pings.

He doesn't recognize the man texting him but he can imagine the man's - Tim, is his name apparently - fat bubble butt just from the contact photo. Tim is apparently almost there, and asking for some guy named Jason.

In the driveway, Tim tries to will his sudden boner down. He looks down and sees his cock pulsing and throbbing. It started when he looked at the video this guy named Jace, apparently who John turned into, sent him using John's phone. The guy looks a little like John but 10 years older. John was already handsome, but now? He's model-level gorgeous.

He shifts in his seat and his eyes widen as he hears a tear. He gets out of the car and notices his ass has swollen to such an immense size it's torn through his sweatpants. It's so big and meaty, sticking out a full ninety degrees from his back. He's underwear tears off as his thighs thicken in proportion to his meaty ass.

He looks down at the message John - Jace - sent him.

After I fuck that fat ass of yours, we can look for your friend.

He feels a momentary stab of grief at the loss of his friend. John's not dead but he's definitely not here.

But still.....

Tim rubs his swollen ass, bites his lip to suppress a horny moan and looks at the front door of the Airbnb they'd rented. He briefly thinks back to the cashier getting his back blown out by one of the hottest men he'd ever seen.

The door opens and Jace appears, leaning against the doorframe in John's robe, rock hard cock pointing right at him. He looks to be in his early thirties, still short but stacked now, thick and built with muscle. Jace smiles. It makes his whole face light up.

Tim blushes, feels his own cock make an obvious imprint on his sweats.

"Are you Tim?"

There's nothing left of John in there. He wonders if John would even care.

"Yes," Tim says, "I am."

Jace steps out, barefoot and smelling of pure musk, and closes the distance. Jace kisses Tim like he's never been kissed before. Beard scratching his face, plump lips, the right amount of tongue. He's so hard he thinks he might cum right in his sweats in the driveway, just from kissing. He grabs Jace's own huge, soft bubble butt and squeezes, making him moan into Tim's mouth.

Judging by the way Jace manhandles and kneads his fat cheeks, the way his cock pushes out so much pre it puddles on the stone drive, Tim knows that once this man gets him in that house, he's going to get fucked senseless.

Tim came here with the old Jace to get over his breakup.

Stepping out of the Uber, you let the hot, humid air breeze across your face for the first time. Pulling out your french dictionary, you hoped that someone in Marseille would be able to speak your language, but you weren't holding your breath. It was your first time outside of your home, outside of your little bubble of cultural comfort, and it was exciting. You had a few goals for this little excursion: one, embrace yourself in the gay culture. Two, find a summer boyfriend. Three, have your beach body ready. That third goal, however was a little delayed. But sitting there, letting the hot sun and the cool ocean air, the sounds of crashing waves, honking horns, music and chattering... You knew immediately you'd be in town for a while.

The issue was finding a local guide to help him navigate this brave new culture. After all, you were far out of your element. Pulling out your phone, you start to google local hostels to crash at for the night until you catch someone peering at you from down the promenade. Shirtless, sunkissed, his gorgeous tanned muscles glistened in the hot sun, his big masculine feet sliding his longboard back and forth, and those deep brown eyes glancing at you made your heart flutter. You turn back to your phone, thinking to yourself in rising anxiety that he'd caught you checking him out. Just look busy fiddling with your phone, maybe you were just staring at the beautiful beach. Though, the sound of a rolling skateboard and skidding of shoe on pavement shattered that fantasy.

"Vous n'êtes pas d'ici, n'est-ce pas?" His silky tenor voice had a laid back melodic quality that instantly put you at ease, though you had no clue what he was saying. Panicking, you start to flip through your french dictionary, as he chuckles at your demeanor. Smiling, he puts his hand on the book. "I can speak your language. My name is Beau." His heavy accent was difficult to understand, but you understood the gist of what he was saying. You introduced yourself and expressed that you were trying to find a good hostel to spend the night at. Beau laughed again, this time a bit more pointed. "It is summertime in Marseille... I wish you the luck, my friend. I don't think there are many places to stay."

You sigh, in the back of your mind you knew that perhaps reservations were a good idea before travelling. But the excitement of backpacking in the south of France was too overwhelming, and all sense of planning and organization was tossed out the window. You wanted to be as spontaneous as possible, but now here you were with no lodging, no mastery of the language, and no knowledge of the area.

"If you would like, I have a couch in my studio you can stay on? It's a mess, I was working earlier and left a mess all over, but you can stay if you need to." Looking down at your phone, he was right. No vacancies at any of the local hostels- you truly didn't have much choice. You agree and Beau smiles, slapping you jovially on your back. "Bien-sûr. Allons-y. We can go now." He takes your backpack, tossing it over his shoulder as he rolls away, forcing you to hasten the pace to keep up with him on his longboard.

The distance was farther than you anticipated, though strolling along Beau's glistening body in the summer heat, his strong musk gently trailing behind him, it wasn't so bad. You arrived after perhaps an hour of walking and rolling, pulling up to an run down building in the old town of Marseille. He pushed open the door, letting you in. The two of you ascend the stairs in silence, marching four stories up to the attic apartment. Each footfall from Beaus massive feet made the stairs shudder, though whether it was the dubious maintenance of the stairs of his sheer mass, you couldn't tell. Arriving on the fourth floor landing, he opens the front door to the studio.

The apartment was a sprawling open space, bright and airy, with four open doors leading to the balcony, their curtains fluttering aimlessly in the wind. Beau was correct, however, in stating the place was a wreck. Dirty clothes were strewn everywhere, art supplies were haphazardly tossed from one side of the space to the next, even a clearly very heavily used, still dripping fleshlight sitting on the very couch you were to sleep on that evening. You knew the French were sexually open, but you weren't quite expecting him to be that open. You weren't lying to yourself, you lusted over this beautiful specimen, as he tossed your backpack onto the couch and threw his hands triumphantly in the air.

"Et bien! Welcome home. I'm sorry I didn't have time to clean, I have been so busy with sculpting and it has been so chaud, ma fois I was sweating all over the place I could barely think." Putting that comment to the side, you distract yourself from staring at his glistening abs and strong legs. You sit on the couch, gingerly pushing the dripping fleshlight to the side.

"Oh you sculpt? What do you sculpt?" Immediately, Beau's face lit up. He smiled a genuine grin and eagerly plopped down next to you on the couch, propping up his huge feet on the table.

"Men. I love the male form. It is so... qu'est que c'est le mot pour ça... Beautiful." You smile earnestly, listening to him talk so passionately about his art, and how every ounce of a man from his body to his scent to his mind fills him with passion. He pauses, and his glance changes to one of intrigue. His brows lower, his eyes peering deep into yours. "When I saw you, I was inspiré." You blush and look down, not before taking a guilty glance at his massive feet propped on the table, teasing you from afar. "May I sculpt you?"

Your head darts back with attention to him, floored that he would be even moderately interested in sculpting someone like you. You intend to nod, but your trailing gaze betrays your primary interest as you admire this statuesque adonis. Your eyes move from his plump lips, to his meaty pecs, to his cobblestone abs, to the growing tent in his damp shorts... all the while letting his irresistible musky scent mesmerize you.

"Ah I see. You like?" He smiles as he raises his arms, flexing his bulging biceps, veins popping from the sheer strength of his muscle. Your heart melts as he winks at you and takes a deep whiff of his sweaty pit, sighing in complete satisfaction. He was incredible, so intensely beautiful, sensual... Unlike anyone you've ever known. Smiling, he brings his face close to yours, letting his minty breath cool your red face. "All you have to say is yes."

In a lusty musk drunk stupor, you nod, and he smiles as he guides your face into his dank pit. You inhale his sharp, salty musk as if it were the very air you breathe, huffing maniacally before calmly taking it in. Your tongue brushes over the bristly hairs, lapping up every single beadlet of his savory sweat. He retrieves you from his pit, your face ripe with his scent, and pulls you into a deep, passionate kiss. He kicks off his thrashed, well loved shoes, allowing the wet, heavy smell of his feet having skated all day in the summer heat of Marseille. He pulls his damp shorts and underwear down, tossing them aside, letting his slim, uncut 9 inch cock slap against your leg. You peer down at his musty member, the radiating heat from it warming your thigh. Smiling, he stands up, his semi hard dick and sagging balls mere inches from your face. He gently caresses the back of your head, with an intense look in his eye.

"May I sculpt you?" He asks one final time, and in a breathless huff, completely enveloped in the moment you affirm with a gentle yes.

He flashes his pearly whites with a hearty grin before he places his ripe feet against your face. You take it in: heavy, wet, salty, sweet, sharp, reminiscent of the best blue cheese. You open your mouth to suckle on his toes, your mouth stretching a bit more than expected to accommodate his wide size 15s, but the flavorful taste of his feet were simply too delectable to pass up. He moans in pleasure, bringing his second foot to your lips. You feel your jaw stretch downward as his right foot plunges into your mouth, contorting your face like a silicone mask. You feel his feet push down your throat, your neck bulging and creaking as the outline of his huge feet slide further and further into you.

Grabbing the edges of your mouth between his calloused fingers, he stretches your mouth wide, thrusting his legs even deeper into you. The sensation of his wide, slick feet creeping down your thighs and calves was a strange mixture of fullness and warmth until his toes pushed into your own. As if pulling on a pair of socks, he grabs your ankle, stretching your foot wider and tighter over his until his heel slips into place with a loud snap. Beau wriggles your toes playfully, feeling his musky sweat start to drip from your soles. Standing on his (your) feet, he tugs firmly on your waist, pulling your legs up his, your skin stretching and squelching until they're bulging with his firm, lean muscle.

His breath labored, you watch as his musty dick slips past your lips, down your throat and press against your midsection. It starts to slide and press against the base of your cock, until he thrusts his cock into yours. Stretching longer and wider until all 9 inches are suctioned into your cock, his pendulous balls dropping like bowling balls into yours. He sighs in relief as he pulls the rest of you up his abs and pecs, sliding his arms tightly against his side, while your skin slides upwards, swallowing his broad shoulders in a loud gurgle.

Maneuvering his thick arms within you, you feel his wide, meaty mitts thrust into your arms, his fingers bulging outward under your skin, ending up filling your hands with his gruff, calloused palms. He flexed your thick, juicy biceps and ran your hands over your rippled abs, every sensation more sensitive and poignant than you've ever experienced. Finally gripping your lips one last time, he pulls your face over his, pressing down the skin and sealing him within you.

With an energetic pep in his step, he sauntered over to a podium, standing in front of a floor length mirror. Through your eyes you could see what he'd done to you. You were easily 6'7, same height as Beau, with the very same lean, glistening musculature which had graced his body. You see him smile with your face, and his silky voice poured from your lips.

"Et maintenant, à sculpter." With that, he brought your calloused fingers to your face and began to pinch, pull, and work your features. He widened your nose, pulled your eyebrows lower and pressed your jaw wider and sharper. Smiling, he rubbed your teeth with his thumb until they were a pearly white, and beautifully aligned. Happy with the results, he opened a small cabinet to the side, pulling out a puck of pomade. He scooped out a dollop of the black sludge between his fingers and began to run his hands through your hair, making thick, sweaty black waves of long healthy hair, rubbing the excess off on your jawline for a pristine five o clock shadow.

"Parfait. Eh bien, peut-être…" He shuffled through the drawer, pulling out a sharp black pen. He sat down on the podium, crossing his legs, and began to draw simple, yet beautiful tattoos on your arms, neck, groin, and feet. Finally, from a small box atop the table, Beau picked up a gold piercing, stretching your tongue out of your mouth and pressing it into place with no resistance. You could feel Beau purring with glee inside you as he finalized every last inch of you, until he'd sculpted an absolute masterpiece.

Beau beamed from ear to ear, hopping off the podium to his dank shorts, wet socks, and ripe shoes. Happily putting each item on, with them fitting absolutely flawlessly.

For the next week, Beau wore you non-stop. He carried on with his everyday life, skating from place to place, running errands, painting, lifting weights, jacking off in his favorite fleshlight... and as time passed you became more and more accustomed to this laid back lifestyle- the epitome of la vie boheme. You began to think your every thought in French, embracing the tranquil days on the beach, your addictive parfum de corps au naturale, the polyamorous barrage of men who either wanted that tight hole of yours, or the musty cock. Life was a breeze, and by the end of the seven days, Beau had no more to teach you, and stripped out of your body, dripping in his fragrant sweat.

Slowly, you felt your senses return. You brought your calloused hands to your smooth pecs, pinching your sensitive nipples. He'd truly given you a body and a life only a visionary artist like Beau could provide. Sauntering over to you with a cup of coffee, Beau chuckled.

"Alors qu'est-ce que tu en penses? Aimez-vous la pièce finie? So what do you think? How do you like the finished piece?" Filled with romantic passion and love for your sculptor, you pulled him onto your lap, still wearing his ripe clothes.

"Tu sais que j'aime ça. Je ne peux pas te remercier assez, mon amour. You know I love it. I can't thank you enough for this, my love." He kisses your neck, being sure to take a very deep breath of your own musky pits before passionately kissing you. "Et aussi, je m'appelle Pierre. And also, my name is Pierre." No longer whoever you once were, you were proud to be a kiffeur artiste français with your deepest loving partner Beau. No matter what sidepiece himbo found their way into your bed, you were in love.

“What a good night that was, I could use a repeat but this time including your coach, what was his name, was it John wasn't it, hehe I think it's time to go get him.”

After a hot night exploring his body the new Kevin, knew he had no time to waste, so he prepared to go in search of the new host for his Boss.

He knew that his Coach, John would be late at the gym, which would be great for him as he was always desolate and in those routines it was just him and Kevin, the perfect time to catch him.

Kevin was arriving to the place already having his plan ready, he was just waiting for the last guy to leave so John would be alone completely.

Minutes passed and the boy was already leaving the Gym.

--Finally, that asshole's body might interest my boss later," Kevin thought in his head.

“Well, it's time for fun hehe”.

Kevin entered the gym, but no one was there, he was confused because apparently his Coach had left earlier.

“SHIT, now what do I do????”, Kevin exclaimed.

But then someone was heard to be in the locker room, so Kevin proceeded to go inside being hopeful that he was there.

But to his surprise it was not his Coach, but a new guy he had never seen before.

A formidable, muscular guy, the perfect man to be a good recipient.

--Oh man, you're not leaving here," he said in his mind.

+ “Hey, what's up big guy, I see you're new here, right?” Kevin said with a friendly tone.

- “Hehe yeah, just today I just joined this gym, previously I was going to another one but I decided to give my life a few changes, I needed a fresh start.”

+ “Ah yes, from time to time we all need new beginnings, but look at that perfect body you have, you're all God!!!”

- “Oh thanks bro, I've been working so hard on it, all this you see is thanks to the dedication I've put into it, but hey, you have a gorgeous body too!”

+ “ Thank you, believe it or not, this body I just got yesterday”

- "haha what are you talking about? As far as I can see you've been training for a long time, don't give me that bullshit".

+ “I'm telling you seriously, all these muscles I just got yesterday, you want to know how?”, Kevin was about to start his plan.

- “Well boy, show me what your big secret is,” the poor guy really didn't know what was coming.

+ “Are you sure you want to know.”

- “What yes, TELL ME, I don't like liars like you.”

+ “I'm anything but a liar, so here goes.”

Kevin without even giving him time to react rammed the guy, knocking him to the ground, even with all those muscles it wasn't enough to stop Kevin.

- "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?

+ “I'm going to show you my secret, wasn't that what you wanted?”

They both started to struggle on the ground, although it was Useless because Kevin already had the poor guy pinned to the ground.

- “L-LET ME GO, YOU'RE PISSING ME OFF,” he was screaming.

Kevin was lying on the guy's abdomen, despite being a bit smaller his body was heavier.

Both of their bodies were rubbing against each other, their penises, their abdomens, their pecs as their hands held the guy's hands.

+ "You said you wanted this, you gave me permission to do this, take it as a gift to yourself, you don't know how much you will thank me later."

The guy was scared, screaming for help, but no one was listening.

Kevin let go of the guy's hands, he knew he already had him overpowered, so as the guy screamed, Kevin with his hands went straight to his mouth, holding it open as the guy tried to struggle knowing it was useless.

+ "Here's the secret, you're the new vessel, say ‘aaah’".

While the guy was forcibly holding his mouth open, Kevin started to vomit a viscous liquid inside his mouth, the screams were drowned out under this substance, the guy felt it going down his throat, his fate was already sealed and there was no turning back for him.

(Tw: flashing lights)

Soon the guy stopped struggling, there was no longer any point in doing so, so he lowered his arms while his whole body was writhing.

Kevin was vomiting more and more substance, the guy's body was stretching, all that goo was settling inside him to transform his old body.

The poor guy's memories were fading, that body would never be his again, he wanted to change gyms and instead he got to be imprisoned in his own mind, just a spectator of his old body, watching how they took away that something he had worked so hard for.

Kevin after minutes of emptying that substance inside the guy finally stopped, he watched as the last of it was disappearing inside the guy.

+ "Thank you for giving your body, all this will be very well rewarded", proceeding to kiss him.

So Kevin stood up and watched as the body remained inert on the ground.

Soon, the body got up and began to adjust its body mass to create new muscles, make it bigger and sturdier, as well as grow facial hair to give it a new look.

After that, he proceeded to approach one of the mirrors near him.

- "Oh Jeremy, I thank you too much for this body, don't be afraid, in here you are safe from everything," apparently Jeremy was the name of the unfortunate guy.

+ "You like it Boss, it wasn't the body I had planned for you, but it's still a great choice."

- "I love it, but you know, I was thinking if we go get John at his house?"

+ " and why is that?"

- "I have a great Idea to absorb John, combine this body with his, these 2 beasts combined would be crazy, don't you think hehe?"

+ "Oh I think so, do you want us to go now, I think he's getting ready to sleep already?"

- "Sure, I know he's going to love starting his day as a new person, or well, I rather think he's going to be excited to be inside me....

David had returned from the gym, he was sweaty and decided to take a shower, while that was happening a black viscous substance similar to a symbiote sneaked into his room, he hid under the sheets of his bed waiting for his prey to arrive.

David was already coming out of the shower, he was walking towards his room because he lived alone and he loved to have his balls in the air at home.

Once he got to his room he started to pose and flex his muscles in front of the mirror, but out of the corner of his eye he saw movement under the sheets which ruined his moment.

“What the fuck is that?” he said as she watched it move and moved closer to investigate.

“Oh, it must be a cat, it probably must have gotten in through the window.”

Keeping in mind that it was just a cat, David approached without any precaution being this his biggest mistake, standing next to the bed, David began to remove the sheet.

“Come kitty, I won't hurt you.” he said as he was about to reveal what was there.

David had already removed the sheet and the moment of truth had been revealed.

"I told you not to.... What the fuc---." He said as he saw the symbiote on his bed, he couldn't even finish the sentence because the symbiote without thinking jumped on David.

He was trying to fight it off, but he just had that goo all over his body.

The symbiote was expanding and wrapping itself around his torso, legs, arms, chest and of course his penis, it had his whole body wrapped up, only leaving his head uncovered.

"Please p-please let me go br---". Just at that moment part of the symbiote began to enter through his mouth, nose, ears and another part through his ass, introducing much of it inside David, making him look bigger and with great complexion, widening his biceps, pecs, hips, thighs and legs, basically his whole body was enhancing him.

His eyes as that was happening turned a shade of black, he was feeling a little turned on by everything that was going on.

- "shh there is nothing to be afraid of David, I am not coming to hurt you, I just want to make you into the man you always should have been, let your body and mind relax, I know you like what is happening to you, only now I am part of you, we are no longer two creature, we are just one mind and body, feel grateful for that."

A voice in his mind told him, the symbiote already had him under its dominion, he had no choice, he only had to accept it.

All the parts of the symbiote that were wrapping the body began to merge with David's skin.

That black viscosity was already one not only with David's body, but also with his mind.

David had not yet come to, his memories were being rearranged to make room for the symbiote.

The more it permeated his brain it made him more self-centered, more narcissistic, more horny, everything David had wanted.

He was still naked with his penis in the air, so out of his body that black goo started coming out forming him into pants and a black shirt that allowed him to flex his huge biceps he had obtained.

- “Wake up boy, it's time for you to wake up, it's time for us to wake up...”

David opened his eyes, transformed into a new man, an improved version of himself.

“Hey not bad eh, I look bigger than before, more muscular, I love it.”

David said as he flexed his huge biceps.

The shirt felt so slimy, but at the same time he was so turned on by the feeling.

- "I told you there was nothing to be afraid of, we're both going to be great, David".

“yeah, you were so right, I feel so new, so big, so horny, I could go fuck some guys right now.” The symbiote had also altered David's tastes, he was no longer a straight man, he was a horny dominant gay man looking for any guy who would let himself get fucked and worship his new muscles.

- “I love that idea, but first let me give your clothes a change.”

"I love it, this is sure to get those men's dicks harder, time to go for some fun and spread my seed."

Kevin wanted to have a toned and muscular body like the bodybuilders he found on IG, with so much illusion to achieve he dared to start at the gym.

Months passed, Kevin spent daily at the Gym, he had a Coach who guided him with the series of exercises he had to do and little by little he was seeing changes in his body, but for him it was still not enough and he felt it would take forever to have his desired body.

“Well, I'm getting in shape, I just wish it didn't take so long” Kevin said to himself in front of a mirror in the gym's locker room, suddenly he heard a noise and looked around but there was no one, he was all alone, or so he thought because from a corner there was a creature floating, translucent with several tentacles and apparently invisible to human sight.

Kevin then started to get dressed to go home but the creature started to approach Kevin's back which was shirtless, and it put one of its tentacles on it, Kevin started to feel shivers and his vision blurred. “W-What's going on?”, the creature then let go of Kevin's back and returned to normal, “emm I think it's time for me to leave this place” he said as he started to get dressed quickly because of that weird feeling.

“See you tomorrow Coach” Kevin said to his trainer.

- “See you tomorrow Kevin, you have to keep training that body, it has a lot of potential and you know it” he replied, after saying goodbye he was heading home, but he didn't know that the creature was following him too.

Once at home, he began to undress and pose in front of the bathroom mirror, “someday I'm going to get that body I want so much” he said, then proceeded to wash his face in the sink, while doing so the lights began to flicker but he did not give so much importance to that.

He finished rinsing his face and looked up at the mirror, but was surprised to see his reflection distorted.

"What the fuc---", Kevin couldn't even finish what he was going to say because the creature came out of the mirror and rushed at him, like an octopus with its tentacles it attached itself to Kevin's body and face, wrapping around him and merging with him to possess his body.

Kevin couldn't even react from the shock, he only felt how a viscous substance enveloped his body and he lost consciousness.

Kevin's body still remained in front of the mirror, motionless and expressionless, he suddenly gasped, “w-what's happening to me today ????, is all this exercise driving me crazy????” Kevin said after he was able to regain consciousness, questioning the situation.

- "Isn't this what you wanted?" Said a voice inside his head, "want what?" Kevin replied.

That's what you were longing for today"

" What, who are you??" Kevin asked in confusion.

-" Well, I'm about to be you."

" What do you mea---"

Kevin lost consciousness again and his body began to twist, expanding and shaping biceps, pecs and abs toning them and making him more attractive, turning him into a God.

When he finished shaping himself, Kevin stared into the mirror with a serious and seductive look he started flexing in front of the mirror his new body.

- "Thank you so much bro for allowing me to take this body, for you to see that I am so grateful I decided to give you that you wanted so much, do you like this new facet for you?, although it doesn't really belong to you anymore, now this is mine how long I want, I can also let you go or also merge us with a new man to add mass and mold it" said now the new Kevin, with a deep and masculine voice.

"I am going to have some fun today with you, because tomorrow we have to find a new host, my boss needs a body and I think your Coach is the one, that big muscular man will be a good vessel for him".

"God this guy feels amazing" my husband said putting underwear on his new body.

"I bet he does" I said staring at that ass. "Can't wait to feel him too"

Husband turned and smirked at me. " why wait"

I cannot promise this is the return. But here is something.

Yeah, he’s pretty. Studly, sexy, the ultimate adonis. Would you be absolutely shocked to learn he was a High School History teacher? This is Mr. Rappaport. He taught AP European History at Marva Collins High School for 4 years. In that time, he won teacher of the year, brought the school basketball team to the state title, and touched the lives of hundreds of students that walked in and out of his classroom.

Now, you may be thinking, this is not exactly a picture that’s appropriate for a schoolteacher. Mr. Rappaport would have vehemently agreed. It was meant as a teaser for his husband, Danny, on Valentine’s Day. Little did he know that hitting the send button his his Facebook Messenger would cause his life to turn upside down.

In hindsight, he should have known that Collin would have pulled something like this, especially after how pissed he was for being kicked off the team. But Mr. Rappaport never would have guessed that Collin would have snooped through his laptop during practice. He never would have dreamed that the little shit would find the picture and send it to all the female teachers. He could never have imagined being fired for misconduct, despite video evidence of Collin sending the picture. He was immediately terminated. Danny left him. He was blacklisted in the entire region from teaching in schools. His life’s work flowed down the drain.

The typically laid back and jovial Mr. Rappaport became consumed with vengeance and rage. That little fuck Collin… He would pay. There was nothing left for him. No job prospects, no family, no friends… Why not start over? Why not start anew? Why not… Improve the life of one last student?

The day before summer break, his last day as a teacher, Mr. Rappaport walked down the hall, toward his former office in the team locker room. He had scheduled a meeting with Collin regarding a fictitious college scout that was interested in him. He pushed open the door, his eyes immediately falling on Collin, who’d taken the liberty of lounging in his chair with his feet kicked up on his desk. What would normally make Mr. Rappaport irritated and angry seemed to not phase him whatsoever.

“Mr. Masters.” Collin turned around, raising a quizzical eyebrow at his defeated opponent. 

“What’s up Mr. Rappaport? Come to show me your dick?” The coach sauntered over to his chair, and lackadaisically reclined. He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

“I’m not your teacher anymore, Collin. So I can’t get in trouble for saying: fuck off you little cuck.” Collin’s face flushed, shocked by the tenacity of his former mentor. Rappaport opened a desk drawer, grabbing a crisp manila folder, and tossed it at him. “Here, Tennessee and North Carolina are looking at you. Read the agreements and see which one you want. I’m gonna go smoke a blunt.” Collin snatched the folder off the desk, flipping furiously through the fabricated pages lovingly provided by Google search.

Mr. Rappaport left the room, but did not go out to the parking lot to toke up. Instead, he grabbed the old grimoire he had swiped from the local University Library. He muttered poor latin under his breath, as the florescent lights above him began to flicker. The hairs on his arms stood on edge, as goosebumps broke out in waves across his body. Closing his eyes, he continued repeating the chant as a peculiar tugging sensation overwhelmed him. As if he was being pulled out of his skin with every wave of goosebumps. Upon the completion of the 5th repetition, the lights in the locker room momentarily went out. Less than a second of darkness, and the room returned to its former illumination, with one less studly teacher.

Collin had paid no attention to the commotion in the room behind him, as his focus was enveloped in the fake university offers presented to him. Thus, it came as a shock to him when he felt his hair stand up on end, and a rigid gust of wind burst through the door. It was a shock to him when he saw standing before him a translucent and floating Mr. Rappaport; and it was an absolute shock when his coach lunged at him, thrusting his ectoplasmic arms down his throat. Collin tried pushing his teacher off of him, out of him, but the slick, rubbery figure of Mr. Rappaport slipped effortlessly into his student, inch by inch. The two struggled, the out of control Collin running into file cabinets, knocking over plants, and ripping pictures of the wall. 

For a solitary moment, Collin believed he had a shot at surviving. He was able to grab Rappaport’s ankle just as it was forcing itself into his gaping mouth. He could feel his teacher’s bulky and gelatinous physique within him, squirming and slurping his way into his body. However, one last thrust from inside his gut, and the foot slipped like jello into his mouth. 

“Fuck!!” Collin doubled over, as slurping and swashing sounds bellowed from within him. The specter began to slip Collin on like a costume. Adjusting himself from underneath his victim’s skin. With one last desperate plea, Collin begged his attacker: “Please, coach! Let me go!” Though, it fell on deaf ears.

Collin’s eyes rolled backward into his skull, gurgling and shaking as Rappaport’s head inflated into his own. One final pop, and it was all over. A smirk slyly slithered onto his face. As “Collin” opened his eyes for the first time. Running his hands over his lean frame, and athlete body, he was excited to experience a jock body instead of his former Daddybear. 

“Haha, fuck. This will take some getting used to.” He cracked his neck, and walked out of the office, but not before rummaging through the bottom desk drawer, and grabbing the legitimate Sunnmore University Basketball offer for him. It was a brave new world for Collin, who knew he wouldn’t let his time be wasted.

I’m considering making this a continuation on my Onlyfans (maybe one part a month in addition to my new short story every other day?) https://onlyfans.com/jettroguewrites  I will keep y’all updated. Read below… ___________________________________

Orignal idea: @butch-de-101

Now you loved your step-son, but at times you just wished he was more like you and his brother, but atlas he was the exact opposite of the both of you. Small, thin, frail the runt of the litter in other words, but not just in appearance but personality as well, as he was soft spoken, into musicals and other artsy interest. You’ve tried for years to get him into the activities you, your buddies and son liked, hell you even tried his as well, but nothing. “That boy ain’t right” your friend would say and go on about now he needs to man up and get dirty, and that’s when an idea popped into both of your head. You looked at your friend smirking “I know just the place for him to get dirty and man up….”

...

You’re just mad and annoyed, what else is there to say? Your step-dad tries and fails to bound with you and yeah he did at least try, but now he’s sending you to some hick family farm in the swamp? He thought that “Getting some fresh air and learning more about the family” will get you to like him or be more like him and his idiot son the college football champ, and now you’re going to have to spend the whole summer at some fake uncles swamp ranch who’s probably a bigger idiot then your dad and brother combined.

For hours you and your step-dad drove from the busy city, past the quite suburbs, along the freeway through farms to something even worst than a small town, The middle of nowhere in a Bayou country. Your step-dad hops out the trunk and takes in the nasty mosquito swarmed scenery around him, hands on his hips “Grew up here, my pa and brother and the occasional family visit. Man I missed that fresh air” he looks at you and smiles but you only stare back with an expression of both disgust and boredom. You look around -This? Your proud of some nowhere shanty little ranch in the middle of a swamp? But you hold your tongue and say instead “Wow must have been nice or whatever.” He’s about to say something when “Ay it is about time you got here big bro, Comment s'est passé le trajet? and this must be Joseph?” The large man saids as he’s hugs your father and stairs at you in the car. “c'était super et je suis si heureuse que tu aies accepté de surveiller mon fils. And this charming young man is Joseph” they both turn to you and smile.

Your step-uncle whose name was Anthony or Antoine. Was the younger spitting image of your step-dad and to an extent your step-brother, he was a large beefy muscular man with the typical appearance of a classless hillbilly but with a swamp vibe added in. He greeted me and shook my hands way too hard “That’s how a man does it” he said smirking, he eyes you up and down and you could tell he was judging you. “Tch Un peu maigre et mou si vous me demandez. Mais je suis sûr qu'il ira bien.” Your dad laughs “He’s just shy and I’m sure the two of you will get along just fine. Now Josh I’ll unload your truck and be on my way.”

He unloads the trunk pretty fast all the while he’s talking to his brother in French and just like that, he’s gone leaving you with basically a stranger. He lays a strong firm hand on your shoulder “Why don’t I take these to your room and show you to your room and~” “You don’t have you pretend anymore.” You cut him off, his smile fades and he gives you an annoyed and somewhat disgust look, and he just lifts his thick leg and “FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT ~You know I was actually being nice. Sure you are very different from what I’m use to, but I could have learned something from you. But no I’m just some stupid ill-mannered hick” He takes your trunk and leaves you there stunned… -Tch typical- I thought to myself. After that unpleasant welcoming that was completely uncalled for. The two of you made it to what would soon be your home for the rest of the summer and just like this whole experience, you hated it.

He lead you to your room but none of your luggage was there and all that was there was a Black Tank-Top and worn out jeans just like his. You looked at him “This isn’t funny where are my thing?” You’re beginning to seethe“If I don’t have them here I’ll call my dad and tell him you’re~” “Tais-toi, sale gosse” he cuts you off “First of all seeing how you… present yourself. None of the clothing you brought would be suitable for this environment, and don’t bother you left your phone in your bags.” Your face turns red and you were about to scream and yell absentees but before you could he slams the door on your face. You stand there completely stunned.

I’m lost for word. First I get abandoned in some desolate farm, but now I’m completely isolated and even worse made to wear these? You look back over to the bed and around your new room, and you weren’t impressed at all, it was a dull, small plain room with a bed, dresser and desk. But a photo caught your eye.

The picture of a large burly man stretching or doing some sort of warm up, and beneath it said Captain Felipe 1998 Championship. You would be lying if you didn’t find him attractive and alluring, but if he’s related to your step-father’s family then yeah not worth it. You continue staring at the picture but for some odd reason the room has gotten colder and feels at if you aren’t alone, you turn your head come face to face with the very man you’ve seen in the photo, but something isn’t right. He’s unnaturally pale and most notably hovering off the ground! “Tu n'es pas de la famille ? Je le sens. Mais vous avez l'audace d'être aussi impoli même quand vous voulez être poli.” You have no idea what he just said but you try to run past and flee but he grabs onto you and throws you onto the be, you whipper in fear “G-get away, I don’t even know what you are saying j-just leave.. leave me alone please!” Your pleads fall on deaf ears as he bolts over to you and lifts you up, and the shoves his large hand into your mouth! He begins to shove more of his arm down your throat, then his shoulders, and finally his large ass and thighs, they forced your mouth to open wide as he pushed hard to get them down your throat, and with a loud SHLORRRRRRP-GULP he was gone.

You awoke on the bed, mind fogged and feeling groggy. You got up and that’s when you noticed that you’re wearing that horrible outfit, you go to take it off but your body refuses to cooperate. Just as you were about to question that, you noticed an odd feeling as if someone else was beneath or over your skin, you can feel odd movements and shifts, which felt as though someone was still trying to figure out how to put on a tight sweater. The cramped feeling builds up in your gut a low gurgle than “FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT~ Ahhhh Ton ventre est si serré et si petit. Je vais devoir m'y mettre.” The foreign words came out your mouth unwillingly and in a deeper tone than your usual manner of speak. You are able to feel your body stretch and flex its non existent muscles, and feel up your body with your own hands but this felt off and alien, as if they didn’t know it’s own body and form. “You” walk over to a mirror and stare at yourself, your reflection frowns and looks unimpressed with what he sees, then took a step back. You can feel that rumbling sensation again but this time it was your whole body. Horrified you see your own torso elongate and grow in length, followed by your arms and legs, soon they begin to build up with pounds of muscle. Your shoulders widen giving you an intimidating look and your biceps grow as if you’ve been going to the gym your whole life, your pecs ballooned and sprouted a coat of blond chest hair. You can feel abs begging to form as the feeling travels down to your groin, you feel a growth and heavier weight being added there “Gasp sigh-sigh”-you moan as it keeps going down, your ass expands and widens followed by your thighs and calves which were all covered in hair. The feeling begins to travel up your throat and build up there “Uuurp-Buurrp-Uurp” than “BOOOOOOOUUUUURRRRRPP” as it jolts into your head.

As soon as that happened your face begins to distort and morph into something that resembles your step-dad. Your jaw widened and burst with masculine energy, your cheeks, nose, lips and lips and even brows take a more masculine along with facial hair as your hair turns into a mullet. The new you walks over to the mirror and examines the new look/you, a twisted satisfied grin forms as he stares directly into your eyes.

Summer has gone by and you’ve spent it trapped in your own body. From sun up to sun down you worked outside doing the job of the farmhand. Plowing, weeding, hoeing or picking fruit and worst of all you could feel it all. The soreness of your muscle, tired and the filth, every day you were ether grimy, sweaty or both and he took pleasure is your misery, taking deep breaths of your sweat soaked pits, going a day or two without showering and having fart/burp offs with his old pal Anthony. One hot afternoon while he was fixing the trunk you feel a rumble in your shared gut and he groans “Ohhhh-UUuuurrrrppp-PPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRTTTT” He smirks patting his stomach.

...

It’s been two months since you dropped your step-son at your brothers and now it’s finally time to pick him up. You felt guilty and worried that you left him there for you knew this wasn’t his style. -But leaving one’s comfort zone is good for you, yeah? Or maybe he’ll just hate me even more? I should’ve just done family counseling- These thoughts been creeping in your mind all summer and on the car ride here, but that doesn’t matter your here now and you’ll be as supportive as ever. You pull up to the driveway and get out of your truck, you walk up to what you thought was your brother till he turns around. “C'est bon de te voir père, what you don’t recognize your own son?” You stumble on your words “B-boy what happed to you?” “Pa I just helped uncle around the farm and ate what a man should eat, he even thought me French.” You were about to keep asking questions when you felt a hand on your shoulder “Come on big bro you know as well as I do that hard work and eating right helps build muscle. Now why don’t I go get his things and he’ll tell you all about his experience at the farm…” your brother walks off leaving you with Joseph who’s learning against a trunk staring at you, but hey now you, your son and him can play football together, and besides he may be physical different but I’m sure he’s still the same inside. -I hope he like the tickets to that musical show I got him? I’m sure they will be a great surprise on the ride back home.-

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HELLO THERE!!!

First im gonna thank my awesome friend @butch-de-101 for letting me read in advance and actually asking me to post this story for him, he is the responsible of this hot story, and i hope he continues to bring us more content like this in the future :).

I tapped my foot as I waited for the doctor to come in and see me. I had just gone through the normal procedures with the nurse, checking my weight, taking my blood pressure, the works. I was nervous to get the results of my last test after a scare with my platelet count. I had gone down a long spiral of online searches and pushing myself towards an anxiety attack I would probably had not come back from. The phone call to schedule an appointment was normal, unable to detect anything in the voice on the other end.

He came into the gym a skinny little twig, quite literally skin and bones. Never really able to gain any weight, Gordon was known around the neighborhood as the ghost: deathly pale and skeletal. For the past 5 years since he graduated from medical school, he tried strategy after strategy to try and bulk up. From high carb and high protein diets to vegan plans to just eating fast food for an entire month, nothing seemed to work for him. Thus, this new gym membership was yet another rung on his ladder, another step on trying to get swole.

The gym had been a staple of the neighborhood for decades, becoming a well established conveyor belt of successful athletes. The place supplied wrestlers, boxers, bodybuilders of all types to the industry: always winners, always huge. Thus, in the hopes of becoming their next success story, Gordon put pen to paper on the membership form, and struggling to carry his limp gym bag over his shoulder, he drudged toward the locker room.

While the impressive history of the place seemed to be a matter of fact, evidence toward their incredible efficacy in their training methods, there was a more clandestine underlying truth behind closed doors. Since the gym's opening, hundreds of studs left into the world, and many return. Some, however, linger. Past their dying breaths, they still return to the gym for the same reason they patroned it in life: getting huge. It would be fair to say of 200 successful athletes, about 80 of them are... recycled. Inhabited by the spirits of their predecessors, reliving life as they did in their time. And on that fateful day, the emaciated young man had caught the eyes of a number of such spirits. As he entered the well-maintained but rather fragrant locker room, the first such spirit laid his eyes upon Gordon.

---

In 1987, Dacre Dallas became the youngest title holder in the WWE. The "Pretty Boy from Texas" was a fan favorite, especially with the ladies. His trademark mullet, bushy moustache and masculine good looks made him quite the Don Juan in his day. At 5'9 and only 9% body fat, he was the 80's Adonis.

Everyone that knew him would recall him as the good-natured dipshit who all seemed to love. He'd be the first one to laugh at a bad joke, the first to offer training tips and branding ideas, the first to buy the round of drinks, and the first to offer a quickie in the sauna. Beautiful, sexy, stupid, and loveable, Dacre was the guy everyone wanted to be around.

---

As Dacre flexed into the mirror, admiring his own good looks, his nose twitched. He turned his head, following the unfamiliar scent of Irish Spring soap until he saw him.

He was perplexed. Many a guy had come through the doors looking to build muscle from nothing, but this was quite the find. Gordon's lanky figure had even shocked the spirit world: the ghost had surprised the ghosts! As he opened his locker, Dacre strode toward him, the ethereal sound of his squeaking Adidas high tops ever so faintly echoing in the room. Gordon began to take off his shirt, stripping it to slip on his tank; a sight that had sealed his fate. Dacre stood awestruck behind him, the sheer difference in size was more than evident. Even at relatively similar height, it only highlighted just how frail the young man was. In that moment, Dacre felt it. He felt the calling, the beckoning of life itself. Flesh is wasted on the living, when the dead have so much more to offer. He furrowed his bushy brows, a sly grin crept beneath his thick moustache.

Gordon felt a cool breeze between his legs, goosebumps trailed down his spine. The ac must have been strong, he dismissed it in his mind. Shrugging it off, he dropped his pants and revealed his baggy black briefs. A stronger, colder breeze blew again, enough to elicit a shiver from the lanky young man. He looked down, immediately met with the translucent grinning face of Dacre Dallas.

"Fuck, this will be fun. Coming in!" Before Gordon could even say a single word, Dacre took his massive ectoplasmic hands and quickly plunged them upward, right into his hole. A squelch rang out in the room, as Gordon's hole stretched to the rubbery forearms of the ghostly hulk. Chuckling as he began to force his entire gigantic body into Gordon, the young man desperately grasped at his invader, only feeling the slightest slimy resistance before phasing right through. He watched as belly started to bulge outward, growing as more and more of Dacre slithered inside of him.

"Heheh, oh shit, man! I forgot how good this felt!" Dacre chirped from within the twink, just as his ankles slid in, his size 10 Adidas kicking back and forth before slipping in completely. Gordon began to thrash about the locker room, slamming into walls and doors while Dacre slipped him on from inside. He slid his arms into the skinny tunnels of Gordon's body, swelling them with his thick plasmic muscle before his hands popped into his hosts, exploding them into calloused strong fists. Pecs and abs started to bubble out as they were filled with Dacre's, his underwear grew tighter as the ghostly cock thrust into his own, his balls swelling with Dacre's seed.

His legs burst with thick forests of hair atop his hilly quads, his feet quickly burst from his size 7 trainers, and as pressure mounted up his throat and against the palate of his mouth, a single pop rang out. The thrashing stopped, 'Gordon' stood still for a moment before cracking his neck and smiling. Turning to the left, Dacre sauntered over to the mirror, admiring his new fleshsuit. The kid looked good on him, he couldn't deny it. He flashed his pearly white teeth beneath his moustache, running his hand through the wavy mullet that had sprouted from Gordon's scalp. It was undoubtedly Gordon to the naked eye, just 100 pounds bigger and possessed by the bulky ghost of an 80's wrestler.

"Aww yeah! This I can work with!" Dacre's booming voice poured from Gordon's lips, as he flexed his sizeable biceps. "You doin' okay in there?" He knocked on his head, the faintest purr deep inside the voids of his brain the only reply. He chuckled, adjusting his bulge in the straining briefs before strutting out onto the lifting floor. He clapped his hands, rubbing them together with a dim laugh: eager to feel the rush of a good pump once more. Walking toward the bench press, he tossed 35 pount plates onto the barbell like they were nothing, and continued to press 10 reps without so much as breaking a sweat. He turned between sets, winking at one of the ladies across the room on the cable machine; a gesture that was accepted and reciprocated from the Amazonian woman. From behind the counter, the attendant smirked. Well aware of each of their residents and their tendencies to slip into the gym's clients, he always enjoyed seeing the before and after with each and every new stud that exited the locker room. It didn't happen every day, but when it did, it was a sight to behold. It was even enough to snatch yet another wandering eye.

---

Justin Drake was the influencer to watch in 2024. With every TikTok and Instagram, viewers could see his growth from the everyday fuckboy twunk to the jacked stud he became. Standing 6'0 with the looks and build of a model, he fit naturally into the realm of fitness modeling. Every thirst trap got thousands of impressions, an equal amount of interaction. This quickly led to product deals, podcasting gigs, sponsorships and content collaboration. Even at one point joining a Big Brother-style bro house series on YouTube, Justin was unstoppable. Though, if you dug a little deeper, you'd find these weren't the only accolades he was receiving.

Top .01% of creators on OnlyFans as well as JustForFans, Justin was well known in the adult industry as the dumb himbo that got off on his musk. Pit stink, sweaty ass, musty cock, and most popularly his ripe size 13s. He was likeable on camera, dumbly laughing at any terrible porn joke on set, and he was popular with his scene partners; even corrupting several guys into scentplay with his addictive aroma. Every horny Tumblr page had his ass, cock, and feet plastered over their feeds, and those big green eyes graced the dreams of ever bater on the site.

---

As Dacre hopped to his feet, he turned to head toward the gorgeous woman, only to be met with the drooling face of Justin.

"Bruh. Like, fuck. Is that you in there, Dac?" Dacre grinned from ear to ear, leaning over the warm, musky specter sitting on the bench. The minty green vapors that wafted from the ghost rather ironically reeked of buttery sweat and musk, tickling Dacre's nostrils as he inhaled his friend's scent. Sighing in satisfaction, he patted Justin's gooey shoulder.

"In the flesh, man. Or, in his flesh... hah!" The duo dumbly laughed, just as they would when they floated around the gym, chuckling at the poor form of their successors. "Nice find, right?"

"Dude fits you like a glove! Here, just let me..." Justin leaned in to Dacre's chest, taking a deep whiff. The scent was subtle, slightly salty, like ocean waves rolling onto the beach. Pulling away, the ghost shrugged his shouldes. "Meh. I could do better."

"Sure, man. Sure. Huhuhu!" Just as Dacre began to walk away, he stopped in his tracks. Justin watched with a raised eyebrow as he slowly turned around, with a devilish smirk on his face. With a quick glance around, making sure no stupid mortal was waddling around, he began to beckon Justin toward him. "C'mon! Jump in while no one's looking!" Justin scoffed at the whispered invitation.

"Bro, there's no way I'll fit! I'll get the next one." This did little to dissuade Dacre, whose beckoning became more grandiose. Sliding down his shorts and briefs, his sweaty cock flopped out and hung limply in the air. Dacre grasped it, furiously pumping it as he continued to keep watch.

"Get in here! I'll make some room! Squeeze in, man, it'll be fun!" The ghost stared at the cock; so shiny, so inviting, yet so boring. He could do much better, he knew he would do much better. Besides, who better to share a guy with than your best friend? Smirking, Justin hopped to his feet, smirking as he broke into a sprint. Dacre smiled, bracing himself as Justin launched himself forward, diving into his dick. A wet slurping sound radiated out as Justin squeezed himself into the semi erect dick, stretching the slit wide as it swallowed him whole. It grew thick and hard in a matter of seconds, before the rubbery ghost shot downward into his balls. Inflating quickly into the size of basketballs, the last of Justin squirmed into the undulating dick. Dacre fell backwards from the masterful invasion, panting and mindlessly pumping his cock.

"Fuuuuuuuck, bruh. It'll be a tight squeeze, but it'll good to rub up against you again, bro!" Justin chided as he spread throughout Gordon's body. The host yet again began to flail and shake, twisting and turning as he was filled yet again. Dacre felt his best friend's massive legs and feet slide into his own, bloating intensely down his thighs, then his calves and forcing their way into his feet with a quick burst of Justin's sweat bursting out of his soles. A familiar funk wafted out from his now size 13 feet, stretching the bulky sneakers out with his toes and inundating them with his ripe footmusk.

His chest and abs stretched upward as Justin pushed his long torso against the cramped interior of his vessel's shoulders. The body contorted as it grew taller and taller, his mass growing with every inch of height. A sharp stink began to pour from his hairy pits, which grew wetter by the second. The cock distended further: 6 inches, 8 inches, 9 inches before the skin started to constrict around his head. The foreskin restored, the tangy scent of his hooded dick drifted out from his groin while his balls dropped into the size of kiwis.

Dacre moaned and stroked from the sensory overload, feeling Justin's head slowly push up his throat and pressing against his own spectral head. In the blink of an eye, and rather loud crack, seizing once again ceased. Laughing wildly, the duo sat up in their swollen host.

"Bruh! Fuck! This guy is tight!" Justin chimed out of their shared lips, Dacre quickly responding.

"But man, it feels so good to have you in here, though!" They jumped back up, quickly adjusting to their new size. Their muscles jiggled as if they were balloons filled with molasses. With each step, dimly chuckling as they did, the muscles began to firm up until they were rock hard. The duo flexed, eagerly sniffing the wet musk that radiated from their dripping pits, Justin in particular reveling in the scent of life once again. Gordon's inflated body strutted across the gym, hopping down onto the leg press. Placing their massive, ripe sneakers onto the press, they easily moved the 375 pounds of iron.

Behind the desk, the attendant took a double take. He'd seen his fare share of possessed, inflated studs, but to see the Adonis that so effortlessly annihilated 20 presses of such an impressive weight was a first even for him. Perhaps in the back of his mind, he realized that Justin had squeezed in with Dacre, which at least explaining the monumental size. But as he stared at the chiseled man jovially pal around with the other men, showing off his muscle, joking about his musk... the attendant couldn't help but feel a stirring in his shorts.

"Ahhhh yeah, dude. That was nothing! You should see us on circuit days! I mean... See me on circuit days!" Dacre quickly caught Justin's flub before anyone noticed. The other jocks laughed, slapping the possessed hunk's firm ass before wandering back to their weights. "Bro, you gotta be careful! The two of us is already a fuckin' tight fit in here. We don't need anyone else lookin to squirm in!" To any onlooker, it was as if Gordon's body was having a full on conversation with himself, turning his head right and left with two seemingly distinctive voices coming from his lips as he did. Unfortunately, such a display did indeed catch yet another specter's attention.

---

Devonte Jackson was the gymnast to beat in 1995. Top of his career, towering over the competition at his mind numbing 7’2”, and an attitude that would kick your ass with a single glare. He had a reputation for being a little rough, both on the rings and when shoving his massive cock into whatever hole presented itself. The man was the textbook definition of the alpha male: jacked, confident, combative, and a jackhammer in the sheets. His unaffected and apathetic demeanor for whatever reason had the bizarre effect of making everyone he met thirsty for him. Sure, he was handsome. Sure, he was huge. Sure, his cock felt like a flagpole ramming inside your guts. But it was that completely dominant persona that made the drool flow freely.

Leaving a trail of broken hearts, bruised egos, and gold medals in his wake, Devonte was the king of the kings with a domination kink to match. Whether it was having his locker room boys lick the sweat from his feet, his sauna boys cleaning his cock, or tying his various girls to the bedframe as he went in... If Devonte was down, you knew that you would be submitting, and submitting it all. You might end up wearing his cheesy creamed condom on your dick for the rest of the week, purely because he thought it was hot. You might end up getting face fucked on the gym floor as he did his pushups, because it he thought it was hot. You might end up walking around on a leash with him at the helm... and yes, because he thought it was hot. He was in charge, and there was never any doubt about it.

---

"So, you two jock sniffers rubbing dicks together in there?" Dacre and Justin turned to see the king himself hanging on his ring set, ectoplasmic sweat dripping from every pore. The two were intimately familiar with Devonte's personality and his... predilections. Even in spectral form, the dominating spirit had that notorious cock deep in their holes nearly every week. There weren't ever any complaints, mind you, the duo were about the only two otherworldly creatures that got along with the dominant gymnast. So, as he hung there from his ring with that characteristic flat affect on his gorgeous face, the two occupying ghosts smiled with their borrowed lips, feeling their sizeable bulge stir in their shorts.

"Devonte! What's good, man! What do ya think?" Justin flexed their body, chipper as always. The mocha ghost dropped to his feet and walked toward the two, towering a foot above their already stretched height. He circled them, taking in every aspect of their handiwork, and after a moment he nodded in approval.

"Yeah. You did good, boys. Y'all will fit perfect on me." The two shot their head toward their domineering friend.

"Whoa, Dev. It's already tight enough in here. I don't know if you're gonna fit, man!" Dacre couldn't imagine a third presence inside of this twig of a guy, let alone the biggest one at the gym. Plus, knowing Devonte, they'd be relinquishing a fair amount of their autonomy in this vessel to him. The ghost scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Oh no, man. That wasn't a request. I'm not sticking around while the only two bros I fuck with skip off into the sunset. Besides, don't you want this in there with y'all?" Devonte grabbed his gigantic bulge, slowly massaging it as it grew. This had never been attempted before. Three in one? Would it even be possible? The kid would probably burst! Though, inherently, they both knew. There wasn't a choice being offered. "Turn around, boys. Do it now."

The duo smirked, if they were gonna have a third in there with them, it was going to be Devonte anyway. The trio were known for pushing the boundaries, forging new ground, excelling: it was a no brainer. Time for one more. They did as instructed, turning around to face the mirror in front of them. Eagerly watching, the two watched as Devonte strutted toward them. Placing his thick hands on their shoulders, he raised his size 17 sneaker and gingerly placed it on their calf.

"Step aside boys, master is coming in." A searing volt of ecstasy rang out from their leg as Devonte shoved his foot into their calf. Veins bulged immediately from the invasion, muscles tore and warped while the foot stepped into theirs. The leather from the high top began to buckle, stretching wider and wider, until their now gigantic size 17s burst from the seams. "Yeah, baby... I know you like that shit, Jus." As the possessed hunk continued to moan from the dominant ghost's invasion, the various lingering spirits around the gym began to gather around. Floating above the hullabaloo below, they all watched leaking and thirsty as Devonte thrust his groin into Gordon's body, immediately eliciting a growing wet spot on the host's growing bulge. Cheers rang out in the ether as Devonte's cock slid into the already engorged member, snaking downward until his musky, hooded monster peeked its head out of the bottom of the shorts.

The spirits began looking at the patrons with hungrier eyes. Watching the sexy corruption taking place below had done more than get them hot and bothered- it had inspired them. Within seconds, a star sprinter had begun to slither into the cock of a twink on the elliptical, across the gym a bodybuilder was squeezing down the throat of a skinny wannabe model, a leather daddy was chest deep in a college student's quickly bubbling ass, a gold metal hockey player was trying his luck at cramming into the college dropout stoner who cleaned the locker rooms... Moans and sounds of squelching and elastic stretching rang out in the cavernous gym, just as Devonte licked the neck of his soon to be vessel before slipping his head into the crowded skull.

For the poor attendant behind the counter, he watched with horror and lust as his patrons were inflated, invaded, and possessed by his spectral tenants, slowly becoming musky star athletes that would take over their respective sports. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for him, his under the desk jerking at the sights, sounds, and smells before him had distracted even him- allowing him to be completely unaware of the 6'3 ripe basketball player that had crept up behind him, quickly diving head first into his open slit.

"Oh, fuck... Diego... yeah babe, get in here!" The basketball ghost made quick work of slipping into the attendant's member; eager to claim a home for himself, his big sneakers slipped into the kid's cock just as the chair gave out. The bubbling, squirming, warping body collapsed onto the floor as the player stretched his limbs out within him, all the while the host crying out in euphoria as his skin began to tan and a foreign, tangy sweat began to seep from his pores.

---

'Gordon' had opened his eyes for the first time as the man he would remain for the rest of his life: 7'2, size 17 feet, forever wafting his irresistible sweaty musk for anyone that strode too close to the hulking giant. His thick beard, hairy muscles, tanned complexion and various tattoos exuded the strong image of an alpha, more than prepared to stick his uncut eleven incher into whatever hole you provided. Though, as there were three in one, each inhabiting spirit bestowed a different facet to their beloved host: Dacre's carefree and fun attitude, Justin's immense kinkiness and delicious musk, and Devonte's dominant personality and sheer size all mixed together to form the epitome of the master. He stretched upward, grinning from ear to ear watching his friends squirm around as they made the mortals their personal rides back to the land of the living, recreating them in their own image to boot. Soon, he'd have no shortage of ass to pound into oblivion, nor a shortage of bro's to kick it with. He picked up his water bottle, striding toward the counter, tossing his key on the desk as the former attendant slowly stood up from behind the desk- now shirtless, ripe, gorgeous, and piloted by a good friend. He stretched upward, throwing his arms behind his head as he cracked his neck and back, smirking at 'Gordon.'

"Good to see you, boys! Hitting the court in a minute if you wanna join? Or... if you wanna come get a taste of this dick, it's nice and seasoned for ya!" 'Gordon' laughed, Diego always knew how to please the boys, and he was always so damn good looking.

"Throwin' my bag in the car, then I'm gonna be balls deep in your throat. Better get that tongue ready, my bad boy needs a cleaning." Diego smirked, flexing his new body's gorgeous muscles as Gordon turned and headed toward the lot. He strolled up to the tiny car that the former tenant of their body had owned, scoffing in disgust. "Welp, boys, we're buying a new car tomorrow." Gordon comically squeezed into the tiny little hybrid, slamming the door before tossing his bag into the back. He leaned back, watching in unfettered glee as the parade of jacked, studly bros made their way out of their prison and into the world once more. All because three dipshit musclesluts decided to squeeze themselves into one tiny body. Once the new class of spirits made their way back to the gym, he'd be the first one to show them the ropes- as long as they were on all fours for him by the end.