Untitled

Listen, i don't really know what's going on, but something weird has been happening.

Like ever since I put on this necklace, things happen.

I can't stop working out bro. Lifting is so fun. And uhh, my muscles are getting so swole.

And like, bro, I wanna show them off so much. So I wear clothes like this bro. Flexing and shit.

And uhhh my brain man. So hard to uhh think.

This is still a W.I.P

Matthew already dreamt of being a jock. A muscle beast that can dominate anyone, in life and in the bedroom. However he was scrawny, weak and barely had any meat on his bones.

It was Mathews first day at the gym and he was highly intimidated by the mountains of muscle that was all around him. Men on all different kind of machines pumping and lifting their weight, flexing their muscles and exposing their perfectly carved abs, pecs and biceps for all to see. Getting approval from their fellow gym bros.

It was such a exciting sight to see, so exciting that it gave him a boner that was quite visible. Matthew hurried to the changing room hoping noone noticed his embarrassment.

When Matthew entered noone was inside the room which was lucky for him, he walked to the furthest row of lockers trying to hide so he can keep his boner down. After keeping his dick uncontro he noticed there was a jockstrap laying on the bench, untouched but filled with sence of desire that Matthew could sence but too sure what it was yet and also filled with semen. Mathew inspected the jock and gagged, the jock had a strong musk emmiting from it. There was also a huge cum stain spread all over the inside of the jock, still wet reeking of whoever ejaculated in it previously, even though it was disgusting to anyone else Matthew felt more drawn to the undergarment as if it was calling him.

Without a second thought he stripped off his shorts and underwear and started slowly placing the jockstrap on his body but once the jock was on there was no going back. The jock felt quite comfy but also a bit uncomfortable due to the cool sperm that is now spread all over Matthew cock and balls. The feeling was quite strange but felt right.

All of a sudden Matthew could feel a warm tingle flowing through his body but his body started heating up more specifically in his arms which were growing and becoming stronger "Oh god! What's happening to me?" A sence of panic appeared from this unusual display. His shirt started to rip slowly around his arms as his biceps grew bigger. Next his torso was heating up feeling as is his stomach was on fire as abs started to form that were now exposed as his shirt fully ripping off his body. He was now standing with nothing on except the jockstrap wrapped around him changing him slowly into a muscle gym bro beast. Matthew closed his eyes, grunting at the pain coursing through his body as he started sweating from the internal heating

We walked over to the furthest shower to continue further with the transformation in private.

"Hungry" Mathew groans. He opens the jock and scoops the semen that was originally in and sniffs it again closer to his face than before. This time he enjoys the smell and even licks the splooge from his hand as well as his fingers with a satisfying pop from each cum coated finger, loving the salty sperm was in coating his mouth.

The taste was making him pop a raging boner that was very noticeable from his new 12 inch cock

Semen flew up Breaking through the jock

"Hehe huge muscles" he chuckles as he flexes

He stepped out of locker room a new man with new desries and we wasn't going to stop now. Matthew had previously noticed another guy who just like him, weak and small but not anymore. He approaches the timid man minding his business when his big frame overshadowed the man.

"Hey bro, wanna get big?"

One sip, and his pecs jutted out from his chest a little bit more. A second sip, his biceps ballooned out, pushing up and stretching out his shirt sleeves. Third sip, he flipped his hat around without even realizing it. It was on the fourth sip that he got that dumb look on his face. Fifth sip, and he was all mine.

“Flex for me, bro,” I told him.

He put his big arms above his head and put a cocky look on his face.

“Yeah, bro,” I complimented him, “Nice arms.”

He let out a dumb chuckle and continued flexing for himself. He was completely oblivious of his instant muscle growth. All he knew was that he was fuckin’ big now, and he wanted to show it off.

“Fuck yeah,” he said. Damn, his voice had gotten so deep and dumb-sounding.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight, though,” I said. I raised an eyebrow and looked at the bottle that he had continued sipping from. With each sip he took, he was becoming more and more simple-minded. If he kept it up at this pace, I doubted he’d even be able to string a sentence together by the end of the night. 

“This shit is fuckin’ lit, bro,” he slurred, “What the fuck is in this shit?”

“Just a special little serum I invented to help turn you into a dumb, muscular frat bro,” I smiled.

Miguel always felt like he was miles behind other guys his age. He was short, skinny, and practically hairless from the eyebrows down. He kept hoping, praying he would hit his growth spurt like all the other boys around him. If any god was listening, none thought he was worth their time. 

“Mini-guel” The nickname he got back in middle school. It started out as light hearted teasing, but as time went on this turned into something more malicious. By the time he graduated high school, everyone knew that the nickname wasn’t just referring to his height. 

Now at 25 years old, Miguel had only grown a few more inches leaving him at 5’3”. Still skinny, hairless, and lacking in the meat department, he found dating to be nearly impossible. He tried every dating app out there with no luck. The only messages he received were from predatory men interested in his “youthful” appearance. And considering his appearance, they always assumed he would bottom for them. Despite still being a virgin, Miguel knew bottoming was not for him. All those late night self-discovery sessions were evidence enough for him to know that. 

It was Friday night. Miguel’s friends decided to go clubbing. He reluctantly went along with them, having skipped out on too many outings already. Going out with his friends had just become inconvenient, often being accused of using a fake ID at the clubs and bars they would frequent. Once he managed to get in, he almost always just faded into the crowd, ignored in the sea of men “better” than him. 

Miguel stood off to the side, gazing at all the men on the dancefloor. One guy in particular caught his attention. This man was everything Miguel wanted to be. Ruggedly handsome, full beard, huge muscles, a sexy pelt of chest hair. The man was wearing tight shorts that left nothing to the imagination. A large bulge clearly advertising his package to any and every man hungry for a taste. Miguel was so distracted by the hunk’s majestic junk that he didn’t see that the man was now looking right at him.

"You got a problem?" growled the hunk as he walked towards Miguel, snapping him out of his trance.

Miguel's head snapped up to meet the man's eyes. Legs shaking, palms sweating, mouth going dry. He opened his mouth to apologize but nothing came out. The man now stood right in front of Miguel, towering over him. The top of Miguel's head barely reaching the bottom of the hunks chest. Having this walking testosterone factory so close had him both frightened and aroused. Having backed Miguel into a corner the hunk got right in his face.

"I'm just messing with you," he laughed. "I'm Leo. I saw you staring so I figured I'd give you a closer look." He grabbed Miguel's hands and placed them on his chest.

"I'm sorry. You're just everything I've been praying to be like," said Miguel staring at the ground. "I'm just tired of feeling infererior to every man I meet."

Leo smirked. "Why don't you come to my place and we can sort that out for you."

Miguel hesitated for a second. Not wanting to be pressured into bottoming for a man, a man who had him scared to death less than a minute ago. However, the hunk's musk was affecting him. He found it harder and harder to resist Leo's invitation. Soon he was following the hunk into his car.

They shortly arrived at Leo's apartment. It was the typical bachelor pad. Laundry everywhere, mattress on the floor, and almost no furniture. The smell of Leo’s musk was even stronger in the apartment leaving Miguel dizzy and even more aroused. 

“So you said you want to be like me, huh?” Leo asked while flexing his biceps, exposing his hairy armpits and wafting more musk into the room. 

“Yes… I do…” slurred Miguel, his arousal slowly becoming more intense. 

“Then listen to everything I’m about to tell you. Can you do that?”

“Yes, anything!” Miguel panted desperately.

Leo gave a wicked smile before giving his first command.”First, strip.”

Miguel froze. His mind was torn between wanting to obey and hiding his embarrassing (lack of) endowment. He looked at Leo with pleading eyes. “E-Everything?” he asked barely above a whisper. 

“Yes, everything. You won’t be needing them once we’re done anyways.”

After Miguel stripped out of his clothes, it was Leo’s turn. First he undid the button on his shorts and slowly pulled them down making a show out of it for Miguel. Bit by bit his underwear was revealed. Bright yellow briefs filled to bursting with a meaty package. Now free from its denim prison, Leo’s bulge swelled even bigger. Now tenting and dripping through the fabric, Leo gave a satisfied sigh. 

“Looks like it's time to pass down this blessing.” moaned Leo as he pulled down the briefs and stepped out of them. His massive member leaking right onto the floor. He hands the soaked briefs to Miguel. “Put this on.”

Miguel pauses, his mind overwhelmed by the naked beast of a man in front of him. Snapping back to reality, he pulls the briefs on. On his tiny frame, the briefs look comically large. He feels Leo’s Intense stare and considers putting his clothes back on and leaving. 

He starts reaching for his own underwear when he feels it. A pulse of something stopping him in his tracks. Then, a warmth. It starts with his bulge. His cock starts swelling, reaching his full length at 3”. He isn’t getting hard; it keeps growing until he reaches 8’ soft. His balls follow suit. Churning, swelling, and churning again until they rival large eggs. They start flooding his body with male hormones and testosterone, kickstarting the next part of his transformation.

Miguel was already satisfied with his changes so far. He went to embrace Leo to thank him. But as soon as he moved, he fell over in pain. His bones started lengthening leaving him at a height of 6’8”. As it stopped he stood and walked up to Leo. To his surprise. Miguel was now taller than Leo. 

“You might want to be in front of a mirror for this next part,” said Leo, leading Miguel to the bedroom. 

As soon as they reached the bedroom door, Miguel began sweating buckets. The heat he felt earlier returned. Now it was focused on his chest. His nonexistent pecs suddenly ballooned into a perfect pair of meaty, juicy muscle tits. His nipples thickened and expanded, becoming extremely sensitive. The growth spread outwards. His torso becoming thick with powerful musclegut. His shoulders so wide that most doorways will be his worst enemy. His biceps arms swelling to massive peaks. His legs expanding thicker than most men’s waists. 

While Miguel admires his new muscles in the mirror, he feels an itch across his whole body. Bit by bit, he grows a sexy dusting of hair along his body, accentuating his muscles and filling with his new musky scent. Smelling his own musk drove Miguel wild. He began stroking his cock while burying his face in his own pit. New thoughts filled his head. He realized he didn’t mind bottoming if it was for Leo. In fact, he found that he craves Leo’s cock just as much as his perfect ass. With those images flooding his mind, he came with a loud roar. His seed covering the entire mirror and himself. Miguel turned towards Leo, breathless but still horny. 

“Thank you for this. I look incredible, I feel incredible!” Marcus said, attacking Leo with a sloppy kiss. 

“I knew you’d take to it well,” said Leo as he rubbed and squeezed Miguel’s new muscles. 

Soon they were both enjoying each other. The briefs were discarded on the floor next to the rest of Leo’s dirty laundry. Both men were now enjoying their blessings. Obtaining the bodies they desire and the relationship they were searching for. 

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

"Nice twig arms, Danny-boy," Chad sneered, leaning against the weight rack as Daniel struggled to bench press just the bar. "You gonna cry when it crushes you?" The gym smelled like stale sweat and ammonia, the air thick with the grunts of bigger men lifting heavier things.

Daniel's arms trembled, the bar wobbling above his chest. He hated this place—hated the way Chad's biceps flexed when he laughed, hated how his own reflection in the mirrors looked like a stick figure next to the others. He clenched his teeth and pushed the bar up, just barely locking his elbows before setting it back on the rack with a dull clang.

Chad snatched the bar off the rack one-handed, loading plates with casual ease. "Watch and learn, twig," he said, lying back and lifting the weight like it was nothing. His chest rose, his abs tight under the thin fabric of his tank top, veins popping along his forearms. Daniel couldn't look away.

Something prickled under his skin—a weird warmth, like pins and needles, but deeper. Chad's grin faltered for a second, his arms twitching mid-rep. Daniel blinked. Was it just the light, or did Chad's bicep look... smaller?

Chad finished his set and sat up, rubbing his shoulder with a frown. "The fuck..." he muttered, flexing his arm like he was checking for something. Daniel exhaled sharply, suddenly aware of his own body—his arms felt heavier, his shoulders oddly full. He glanced down. His shirt clung tighter than before.

Chad's fingers dug into his own bicep, his face twisting in confusion. "What the hell?" His voice cracked, high and unsteady, as if the confidence had been physically squeezed out of him. Daniel stood frozen, his pulse hammering in his throat—not from exertion now, but from something else. His sleeves strained against his arms, the fabric pulling taut where it had hung loose minutes before.

Chad staggered to his feet, his tank top suddenly baggy around his shoulders. "Did you—?" He lurched forward, grabbing Daniel by the collar, but his grip was weak, trembling. Daniel should've been scared. Instead, he felt... hungry. The prickling warmth surged again, radiating from where Chad's fingers touched his skin. Chad gasped, jerking his hand back like he'd been burned. His arms were visibly thinner now, his once-defined deltoids softening, his neck less corded.

Daniel flexed without thinking. His elbow popped audibly, his forearm swelling against his wristwatch strap. The buckle snapped. "Oh shit," he breathed, watching the veins rise under his own skin—thick, roping things that hadn't been there before.

Chad stumbled back into the weight rack, his breathing shallow. "Stop it," he whispered. His voice was different—higher, reedier. His jawline blurred, his cheekbones less sharp. Daniel stepped closer, and Chad flinched. The dynamic had shifted, violently, irreversibly. Daniel towered over him now, his shadow swallowing Chad's shrinking frame.

The gym's background noise—the clanging plates, the thudding treadmills—faded into white noise. Daniel reached out, gripping Chad's shoulder. Not to push him away. To pull him closer. His fingers dug in, and Chad whimpered, his collarbone sharpening under Daniel's palm as if the flesh were melting away beneath it. The warmth between them wasn't sweat. It was transfer.

Daniel's back muscles rippled, his shirt seams splitting with a series of small, decisive pops. The fabric gave way entirely, exposing a torso that was no longer skinny—broadened, hardened, carved with new ridges of muscle that flexed with each breath. Chad whimpered, his once-bulging arms now twig-thin, his tank top sagging off his collapsing frame. The veins in Daniel's neck throbbed as he inhaled—deep, greedy—and something moved between them, invisible but tangible, like steam rising from Chad's shrinking body into Daniel's expanding one.

Chad's knees buckled. He clutched at his own chest, his pecs deflating under his fingers like punctured balloons. "What are you doing?" he gasped, but his voice was thin now, reedy—a boy's voice, not a man's. Daniel didn't answer. His jaw clenched as heat flooded his groin, his cock swelling against his shorts, thickening, lengthening in a way that made his breath hitch. Chad's legs spasmed, his own bulge visibly shrinking, his sweatpants loosening as if the flesh beneath was evaporating.

"M-more..."

Daniel's head tipped back, his nostrils flaring as he grabbed Chad by the thorat. Memories—not his own—flickered behind his eyelids: Chad laughing as he pinned some faceless kid against a locker, Chad flexing in a mirror, Chad fucking a girl with cocky, practiced thrusts. The images seared into Daniel's mind, vivid and invasive, and with them came a rush of knowing—how to throw a punch, how to arch his back during a deadlift, how to hook a finger just so behind a girl's knee to make her gasp. His tongue dragged over his teeth, wet and eager. He could taste Chad's confidence, metallic and salty, like blood and pre-cum.

Chad's knees hit the rubber floor mat with a wet slap, his body collapsing inward like a deflating balloon. His fingers—once thick and calloused from years of lifting—now scrabbled weakly against his own ribs, which jutted sharply under skin gone slack and pale. Daniel loomed over him, his own body a living paradox, every inch swelling with stolen vitality. The air between them hummed, thick with the scent of iron and salt, as if Chad's very essence were being cooked out of him.

Daniel's tongue flicked out again, catching the taste of Chad's fear in the air—sour, electric. His throat worked instinctively, swallowing nothing and everything at once. A wet, guttural sound tore from Chad's lips as his biceps visibly withered, the skin sagging loose around bone. Daniel could feel it—the dense, coiled power unraveling from Chad's limbs and slithering into his own, his muscles pulsing with fresh growth. His cock twitched against his thigh, heavy and insistent, the fabric of his shorts straining obscenely as inches of stolen length packed into his groin.

Chad's hands clawed at his own chest, his pecs flattening beneath his fingers like dough deflating. "N-no—" His voice cracked into a whimper, his Adam's apple bobbing weakly under paper-thin skin. Daniel exhaled sharply, his own neck thickening, his trachea broadening to accommodate the rush of stolen testosterone flooding his veins. Memories—Chad's memories—burst behind his eyelids in jagged flashes: the weight of a girl's thighs bracketing his hips, the smug stretch of his own biceps filling a sleeve, the hot rush of dominance as some faceless loser cowered under his glare. Daniel groaned, his hips jerking forward as his cock surged another half-inch, the head now visibly tenting his shorts.

Chad collapsed onto his side, his sweatpants pooling around his ankles as his legs thinned to sticks. His once-prominent bulge was gone, swallowed by fabric now three sizes too big. Daniel's hand dropped to his own crotch, palming the monstrous outline there—*his* now, thick and veined and twitching with every stolen pulse of Chad's stolen virility. A wet patch bloomed at the tip, pre-cum soaking through the fabric.

The transfer wasn't just physical. Daniel's mind flexed, his thoughts gaining a brash, swaggering edge that hadn't been there before. He knew—*knew*—how to roll his shoulders to make his delts pop, how to smirk just crooked enough to make girls bite their lips. His tongue traced his teeth, now slightly sharper, and he imagined the phantom weight of Chad's ego dissolving on his taste buds—salty, metallic, addictive.

Chad whimpered, his body folding in on itself like a discarded puppet. His hair—once thick and glossy—thinned into patchy strands, his jawline softening into something boyish, undefined. Daniel crouched over him, his new muscles casting Chad in shadow. "Look at you," Daniel murmured, his voice deeper, richer, threaded with Chad's own discarded confidence. He gripped Chad's wrist—so brittle now—and pressed it against his own swelling bicep. "Feel that? That's yours."

Chad's breath hitched, his eyes wide and glassy. His lips moved soundlessly, but Daniel didn't need to hear it—he knew what Chad was losing because he was drinking it down greedily, gulp after gulp, until nothing remained but a hollowed-out husk gasping at his feet.