Jake's Ascension
Jake had just arrived at the gym for that afternoon; as he was getting ready to work out, he noticed something in his friends. Were they bigger? He thought to himself, not paying much mind to it. He was getting ready to bench press when he noticed something else: all of his buddies seemed to be extra sweaty that afternoon.
As he approached one of his buddies, a scent, a desire came to mind. His much bigger and somewhat bloated buddy looked at him with that same desire in mind. Before they could start any conversation whatsoever, his buddy Maronuz lifted both hands, and Jake dipped into his sweaty and musky armpits, inhaling as much as he could. The others looked on with anticipation; a new musk god had been born.
Jake was thrown to the ground and shaked uncontrollably. Nobody helped him, as they knew the good part was yet to come. As Jake started standing up, he felt slightly different, invigorated, and more capable. A cold chill ran through his body as he started sweating and his muscles began bloating uncontrollably, growing maybe about 3 inches taller in the process. This new pathogen had altered his mind; he joined the others in a sort of hive mind, ready to convert the next guy who walked in through that door. Not wanting to scare them off immediately and with all the energy, they started working out.
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A small electric chime sounded as Jake walked through the door to the store. It was a new shop, almost the only
open store in the abandoned mall, 'The Sex Shop' it was called. Jake looked around him, a typical kind of store,
large floor, brick walls, long, black tall isles with different pieces of clothing and objects in special
displays around the place. There were people in all the isles looking around at all the different items.
"Well hello!" a voice yelled. A young, handsome man in a suit decorated with a pink tie approached Jake.
"Nice to meet you, uh..."
"Jake."
"Okay Jake, is this your first time here?"
"Yeah" Jake nodded.
"That's great! We have a special offer this week, anyone new to the store gets their first item free! So take a
look around, pick out something you like, feel free to try any of the clothes or toys in the Change Rooms!"
"Uhhh... isn't that really..."
"Oh don't worry, everything is absolutely 100% clean! So get me if you need help, otherwise, enjoy, and change
rooms are down the back!"
"Uh, okay, thanks!" Jake replied, smiling at the salesman's friendliness.
Jake wandered around, noting that the isles had sections like a supermarket and were much longer than he first
thought.
Jake decided to be adventurous and browse the fetish items isle. All kinds of different things lined the walls,
leather straps, handcuffs, masks, even shoes.
"Damn these things are huge! I've never really been one for shoes or feet, but I'll see if I can get into this!" Jake
thought to himself as picked up the absolutely gargantuan size 14 sneakers from the shelves. He walked into a change
room, surprised at their small-bedroom size and spaciousness. He sat down on the seat, wondering why he'd picked the
shoes. "So, how do I go about this." he thought. "The label said they were 'smelly' so I guess I can try that first."
He picked up one of the huge, blue sneakers and held it up to his nose, inhaling deeply. The strong smell of musk,
sweat and feet entered his nose. Jake held the shoe away from his nose, scrunching his face in disgust, but over a few
seconds he felt himself becoming more curious towards it. He inhaled deeply again, the pungent odors hitting his
senses. "This isn't so bad..." he thought. He inhaled again, and again. "Fuck, this is good." he said to himself. He felt his average 5" cock beginning to harden. "Oh man." he moaned to himself. He continued to smell the shoe, then he lost it, he plunged his face into the massive boat. Inhaling and moaning, a wet patch forming in his shorts. He quickly stripped off his clothes and stroked his cock with one hand, the other holding the enormous blue sneaker into his face. "Fuck, I wonder what sexy jock had his big feet in these." he said to himself.
Suddenly he began to feel strange, thinking perhaps he inhaled something toxic, but he couldn't resist, it smelt too
good. He felt a tingling numbness run throughout his body each time he inhaled the cocktail of sweat and odors. His
whole body now felt strange as he continued to furiously rub his cock and sniff the huge dirty shoe. He felt a strange
radiance move from his lungs into his chest. He sniffed once more and felt a shockwave run through his chest. He
stopped, only momentarily, to see his pecs... growing!?
He continued his sniffing and stroking as he saw his pecs swell and expand outwards, accepting whatever was occurring.
He could feel the muscles in his stomach tighten with every sniff, a light four pack pushing it's way to the surface,
tightening, thickening, becoming a six pack, growing further with his pecs. His felt his calves and thighs begin to
swell and tighten with strength and muscle, a real jock's legs, his biceps and triceps began to bulge and pulse with
every breath, swelling and strengthening, his forearms followed suit, expanding outwards and filling with raw muscle
and power. "Fuck, fuck, yes!" he moaned, continuing to smell the boats of shoes.
He felt his legs and torso begin to stretch, extending taller than his previous 5'11" height. Inch by inch, he felt
his body slide up the wall as he hit 6'6". Jake felt his jaw begin to move and shift, becoming sharper and more
masculine, his ears and nose changing shape.
Suddenly, his 5" cock began to pulsate and expand. The head of his cock flared outwards as his shaft began to slowly
extend outwards. "Oh, fuck!" Jake moaned, stroking his expanding cock, he felt veins snake down his thickening shaft,
his cock head oozing precum as it swelled wider and wider, 6, 7, 8 inches, his enormous cock continued to swell, 9, 10
and 11 inches. Jake's enormous meat stuck directly out from him, thick as a can, almost a foot long and coated in precum. His balls began to grow to match, becoming larger and larger, swelling, filling with testosterone and semen.
Veins traced their way down his forearms as they continued to swell, his hands began to expand and lengthen. His
fingers thickened and lengthened, wrapping further around the shoe and his cock, becoming utterly enormous fists of
power.
The energy moved its way to his feet, he felt his toes begin to swell, wider, longer, manlier. His feet cracked and
expanded larger, growing from his average size 9 1/2's and becoming larger and larger. He could feel his toes grow
longer, his heel extending, his foot widening. His feet pushed further through the carpet, growing outwards to a
gargantuan size 14, ready to fill his enormous shoes with their long wide toes and soles. Jake took one last breath
out of the massive sneaker and his cock exploded with cum, splattering the room in white slime. He panted, looking
down and wiggling his enormous toes and smiling. Now a jock with enormous feet and a foot fetish to match, he stood
up, put on his huge sneakers along with some shorts off the floor. A part of his now changed mind seemed to tell him
that the smell of his massive feet would not only turn people into drooling zombies but that it was also contagious.
Jake looked at the tiny wet shorts lying on the floor of the dressing room, and his t-shirt was stretched and
torn from his growth spurt. He dug out his cell phone to call a friend to bring him some clothes and to show
off his new jock stud bud. He started to key in his best friend Matthew, but remembered he was working now.
So he scrolled to Bryce's name and keyed dial.
"Hey, Bryce, do me a favor, and stop by my apartment and bring me some fresh clothes," Jake started.
"Who is this?" Bryce asked. The voice was deeper than anyone he knew, but the guy apparently knew him.
"Oh, my voice changed too?" Jake asked, "How's it different? This is Jake."
"Changed? Jake? Your voice is like three octaves lower than before. What do you mean changed? Why dya need
some fresh clothes?" Bryce was suspicious this was a prank.
"Dude, it's me Jake. I just had a growth spurt, and my shorts are wet," Jake said, "I'm in a dressing room at
that new shop downtown. Now go by my apartment, the spare key is in the fire hose box next to my door. There's
a wicker chest of drawers next to my bed. In the bottom drawer are some white shorts and a XXXL UP Pilots
jersey. Go get them, quick okay."
"XXXL will look like a tent on you, what gives?"
"Just do it, Bryce. You'll find out."
Bryce didn't have anything better to do, and was curious, so he said,"Okay, Jake."
He hung up, and headed over to Jake's place.
Jake grinned as he set the phone down. He bent over and lifted his foot toward his nose. He took a deep
breath. Damn, he smelled good.
"Mmmm, my feet reek so good," Jake said. He felt his dripping huge cock pushing into his pec. He extended his
tongue to taste foul smelling sneaker. He felt like an electrical spark leap from the shoe to his tongue, then
he tasted bitterness, and blew his load. The underside of his hin and his chest were covered with like 6
ounces of gooey cum. He wiped off his chin and chest with his all ready wet shorts. He licked the white goo
off his hand. Instantly, he felt his body grow a tad bigger. Then he shifted to get a better look at his balls
under his massive cock. He hefted his cock out of the way, and cradled his now tennis ball size size
testicles. He grinned, he felt even hornier than before. It was a good thing Bryce was on the way. He
scraped the rest of the cum off his chest and chin, but instead of eating it, he massaged the cum into his
stinky shoes.
Bryce found the key, and the clothes. He laughed imagining Jake wearing this huge gear. He shoved them into
Jake's gym bag which was hanging on the back of his front door. Then he started on his five minute walk from
Jake's place to the shop.
The shop was interesting. Bryce paused to glance in some of the cases. A couple of things looked interesting.
He smiled, and reached for an orange box with an intriguing label. He paused, frowned, looked down at the bag
in his hand. He could come back and check this out later. Right now he needed to see Jake. He looked at the
doorway with the sign that read "Changing Rooms." He headed through the doorway. The first dressing room
door was open and the room was entry. The second door was closed. He knocked on it, and the door swung open
to reveal another empty room. The third door was locked, so Bryce called out, "Jake?"
Jake was on the threshold of blowing another load, when he heard Bryce at the door.
He stood, and reached the door knob without taking a step. He opened the door.
"Hey, Bryce, good to see you," Jake said.
Bryce's jaw dropped. Jake was naked. Jake was huge. Bryce took a deep breath, and Jake's pungent scent hit.
"Close the door behind you," Jake ordered.
Bryce opened the door to the changing room. It was dark and he couldn't see anything. The first thing he noticed was a pungent scent that hit his nose and made him grimace. It smelled like dirty feet, sweat, and BO. "Hello?", he tentatively asked the dark room. He sensed a movement and all of a sudden something slammed the door behind him. Bryce instinctively jumped back from the door and the loud noise. In the dark he felt strong arms grab him and he felt something leathery shoved into his face and cup it. Bryce breathed heavily out of shock and almost gagged. The smell was so much more intense than before; it smelled like dirty, unwashed feet. It was disgusting! Bryce tried to struggle against the strong figure hold him in place and whatever was being shoved against his face. He finally squirmed free and stepped back, gasping for air and trying to get the rancid foot scent out of his nose. That was when the light flickered on and he saw his friend, Jake. Well, it looked like Jake, if he was older, taller, bigger, hairier and had much more muscle. Jake looked like a total jock now! Bryce gulped when he saw this man was totally naked, and a thick 10 inch erection was sticking out, hard as steel and leaking precum on the floor. Jake was holding a very dirty and well used size 14 sneaker in his hand too. Was that what was on his face? GROSS! No wonder it stunk so bad. What the fuck?
"j... Jake?", Bryce stammered out in confusion and fear. The new jock Jake grinned; "Yeah man, this is the new me. I look so fucking hot. What do you think?".
Bryce was shocked and very confused. "What the hell happened to you, man, your like... huge! You look like an adult now, your all big and hairy, not to mention.... that", Bryce said as he gestured to Jake's massive erection. "Also, Jake, no offense but you fucking stink, man. And that shoe, why did you put that on my face, that's so fucking gross!".
Jake smiled and stared at the massive shoe; "Oh this thing?". He made eye contact with Bryce and took a huge sniff of the dirty sneaker and moaned. Jake's cock leaked a few more blobs of precum on the carpet. Bryce was shocked by what he was seeing. "These shoes are why I have this awesome body now, they are magic! I put them on and I grew into this sexy jock! I wanted to share it with my best friend, so I called you. We can be huge jock bros together". Bryce didn't know what to say; he thought about the possibilities with a body like that. He thought of how easy it would be to get laid by all the girls at school. He had no chance with the ladies as he was right now. "Well... I mean, it would really help us score with the ladies...", Bryce said, contemplating the possibilities.
Jake grinned even wider; "Well, these shoes, they are magic; they made me forget all about my sexual fantasies about girls. POOF Totally gone. These shoes replaced my desires about girls replaced them with musky guys, dirty feet, and sweaty BO. I crave it now, and I don't even care. Seriously, these magic shoes gave me a real strong smelly foot fetish. Soon your going to have one as well". As Jake said this he took another sniff of the nasty, giant sneakers; "Oh fuck, that's so good. Your going to love that stink soon enough".
"What the fuck?! NO! I don't want to be a gay, drooling, foot obsessed jock, even if I could be bigger and have muscles. That's DISGUSTING! How can you be enjoying yourself, that's sick Jake. I'm leaving, you nasty pervert!". With that, Bryce tried to leave the room. Jake sidestepped and stepped in front of Bryce. Jake was inches away from Bryce, and he was much taller now. Bryce only came up to Jake's hairy, muscular pecs. This close, the thick BO wafting off of Jake's body was intense and it made Bryce gag. Jake pushed Bryce back a little bit, further back into the room.
"Don't try to fight it man. Can you feel the influence worming it's way into your brain yet. Look at these huge hairy feet. These are the feet of a man, and they stink. I bet you wanna sniff them, don't you? They stink something awful now, but I bet that you are curious about how they smell. Go ahead, take a whiff! Give in to your new foot fetish, your new desires".
Bryce looked down; Jake's feet really were massive now. The tops were covered in a thick layer of brown hair, and each toe had a small thatch of thick hair, too. The soles looked really thick and big. They were so much bigger than his friends feet before. He realized he was staring.
"I can see you staring. That initial sniff from the sneaker you got earlier is working. I bet you couldn't even get hard from girls anymore, even if you tried. Your fate is sealed; give in and we can be drooling, horny, feet sniffing jocks together!
Bryce couldn't take his eyes off of Jake's manly jock feet. "I bet they stink so bad! That's so fucking gross! Being addicted to smelly feet, no thank you!", he thought to himself. However, as the seconds ticked on he found he was still staring, and that was when he noticed his 4 inch member was rock hard in his pants. Uh oh, he was getting turned on? Was the magic working? He had to get out of there before he turned into a nasty stinky foot obsessed jock like Jake!
While formulating a plan to escape, Bryce had fallen to his knees in front of Bryce, almost as if automatically, against his will. He willed himself to get up and run, but also, being down low, he was much closer to those wonderful feel. "Oh fuck, did I just think of those feet as "wonderful?! This is bad". Being closer on the ground, the foot odor was a lot stronger. Bryce felt his member thicken up and get even harder in his pants. Bryce looked up at Jake. Being on his knees, he was at eye level with Jake's massive, dripping member. It was covered in hair and gave off a strong, sweaty ball smell. Being this close to his friends cock should have grossed him out, let alone the stink of ball sweat, but he didn't feel bothered. He looked up at Jake. Jake grinned a dope, jock smile as he instructed Bryce; "Just give in..."
Bryce was on his knees, staring at the huge, sweaty, hairy feet his friend now possessed. His friend's foul foot odor was making him nauseated it was so bad, but at the same time, Bryce was rock hard and so horny. He looked at the dirty size 14 sneakers that had done this to his friend. Made him a hulking smelly, hairy, foot obsessed jock. Was this his fate? He was getting tired of fighting it and wanted to give in, to sniff and lick his friends smelly feet.
That was it. Bryce made up his mind to get away! Using every ounce of energy he had, he willed himself to slowly back away from the feet. "I have to get away! I won't give in! I am not going to end up a gay, foot addicted pervert!", he said to himself in his mind. As he slowly backed away, he kept motivating himself; "Yes, do it! Don't give in! Don't - ". His inner monologue was cut short with a *SCHLORP* sound.
Jake had planted one massive, size 14, sweaty foot right on Bryce's face, his long splayed toes resting right on the bridge of his nose. The musky scent invaded his nostrils and he instantly struggled and tried to scoot away. The foot sweat smeared on his face as he protested; "Fuck, gaaah, pffft, Jake!! Stop, please!". However, the strong jock didn't budge; he still held his massive foot played all over his friends face. Bryce's eyes watered and his nostrils burned.
"Come on take a big whiff! One more and I'll let you go!", Jake said with a big scruffy grin. Meanwhile, Bryce kept struggling to get away, but Jake was so much bigger and stronger now. Jake's long toes rolled over Bryce's nose as he took a breath. Bryce stopped struggling. "That... that actually wasn't too bad that time", Bryce said, Jake's foot still planted on his face. Bryce closed his eyes and took a deep sniff; he moaned as the stink went into his brain. His cock, painfully tented in his shorts, shot out a glob of precum. "Oh fuck, thats... that is actually really nice, Jake". And with that, Jake smiled; he knew Bryce was gone. There would be no more resistance. Soon enough, he would be a foot sniffing hairy jock like he was.
Taking deep sniffs, Bryce took the massive foot in both hands and began rubbing it all over his face. "Oh, fuck. Oh Jake thats so good", he said. The dirty foot was rewiring his brain. He was forgetting girls and other sexual fantasies he may have at one time had. It was being rewired for only one thing. Dirty feet and man BO. Bryce's cock was so hard it was getting painful. Without stopping desperately sniffing his friend's foot, he took one hand and undid his belt and tried to wiggle out of his pants. Next came his shirt, taking only the briefest time to stop sniffing. Soon Bryce was just as naked as Jake was. "Fuck Jake, your feet are so good". Jake grinned at his friend, and popped a bicep pose. "It's not just my feet that stink Bryce. Maybe some other part of my body could use the attention"...
Bryce looked up and saw Jake with a bicep pose. The sweaty brown bushes in his armpits on full display. The sight of Jake's armpits caused his cock to spurt another bit of precum. "I bet those REEK!", Bryce muttered to himself, sounding almost too excited. Bryce's gaze lingered on Jake's sweaty hairy chest until it dropped down to Jake's bushy groin, his erection massive and jutting straight out. Jake's mouth practically watered and he could see ball sweat practically dripping off of Jake's large hairy sac. This disgusted and horrified Bryce, that he was so turned on by all this, but he didn't care. He was too far gone. He wanted to sniff and worship every inch of Jake's new beautiful body, and hopefully, become as smelly, hairy, and big as his friend was now...
Bryce was staring at his old friend Jake, taking it all in. Bryce's tiny dick was hard as a rock as he stared, mouth agape. Fuck, Jake was so hot. He was staring at his friends now hairy chest. Bryce spied the thick brown bushes sticking out from under Jake's pits. They were so bushy and hairy. Bryce longed to stick his face in them and sniff his friend's stink.
Jake was growing impatient; he knew what he needed to do for the next step in turning his friend into a hairy foot obsessed jock like him. Jake took the nasty dirty trainer in his hand. He took another sniff and nearly gagged at the musk; Jake's 10 inch steel rod spurting a bit of precum in response. Fuck, Jake loved how it smelled now. Jake took the dirty shoe and quickly shoved it back on Bryce's face. Bryce gasped and sucked in the musk; he sputtered, trying to get a clean breath but all he got was foot odor. Not that he cared, Bryce closed his eyes and moaned, and almost shot a load. Jake just laughed mischieviously and held the foul shoe in place. "Give in Bryce, let the shoe do it's job".
A few seconds later, there was a loud cracking sound that came from Bryce's feet. They were beginning to grow! Bryce's toes slowly began to grow bigger and stretch longer. His foot grew wider as it began to elongate as well. Bryce moaned, both from the uncomfortable cramping feeling in his feet, and from the heavenly stink from the shoe on his face.
Jake grinned; he could see from his glassy eyes and pounding erection that his friend had lost all willpower to fight. It was all over for Bryce.
Bryce was enthralled in the shoe's scent and the intense pressure within his feet which were expanding within his shoes. After taking a deep sniff of the sweaty musk he attempted to recoil with a grimace and a moan. "Jake... my feet... my shoes are so tight."
Jake smiled and pushed the shoe into Bryce's face harder, ensuring the transformation continued. "They're getting bigger dude." With his will to resist decimated and a new fetish taking its place, Bryce simply moaned at the revelation and inhaled deeply. He groaned again, harsher this time, his toes lengthened and thickened further, pressing harder and harder against the ends of his size 9 sneakers. The stretching and growing sensation spread up Bryce’s legs and across his body, causing him to moan louder and louder into the huge, worn shoe. His bulging shoes were pushed further away by legs growing longer and bulkier. Both of the men could hear the groans of his spine pushing taller and his arms extending.
At the same time, the muscle growth spreading through his legs moved upward. His legs swelled into large, powerful limbs and destroyed his skinny jeans. Large pecs began to bulge from his front followed by pairs of abs pummelling their way out. Jake grinned and Bryce moaned loudly as long, large toes on what were now size 11 feet burst out of his too small size 9 shoes.
As the feet slid out past size 12, Bryce’s arms twitched with muscular growth. Biceps bulged outward and obliterated the remainder of his shirt as the growth rippled down his forearms. His hands clenched around the back of Jake’s huge paw that was holding the shoe to his face as they exploded in size. Hair poured out of the backs of them and across his arms, abs, legs, and feet.
Bryce’s moans were becoming gruff and desperate as his voice deepened and his head creaked larger with more typically manly features. He was quickly looking more and more like a dumb, sexy frat boy than the average man he once was.
As the huge, hairy size feet passed size 13, Bryce’s cock started to extend and thicken. He groaned loud and deep into the smelly shoe as his dick pressed outward past 5, 6 then 7 inches. He could feel his balls inflating and dropping lower, filling with fresh cum and overloading his body with hormones as it stretched to 8 inches. His cock responded to the jolt of testosterone and expanded again to 9 then 10 inches.
Bryce felt himself about to cum, sealing his transformation forever. His eyes fluttered open, looking down in awe and lust at the big, beautiful size 13s he now had. Jake’s size 15s standing just in front of his own made his cock quiver. He wanted feet as big and manly as those, and so he resisted the end of his changes and pressed the shoe into his face unassisted.
“Hell yeah man, grow them huge” Jake moaned, knowing exactly what Bryce was attempting. Bryce sniffed the shoe hard, gasping as he resisted the urge to cum and feeling his feet stretch just a little larger. He repeated this, again and again, holding back the urge to yell in pleasure as he prolonged the inevitable and pushed his feet to size 14. The sensation and knowledge that his feet were becoming huge was overwhelming. The toes pushed out even longer, finally bringing his feet to the same size 15s as Jake’s.
Bryce gripped Jake’s shoulder and pushed him to his knees and pressed his huge, musty size 15 into Jake’s face. He continued to inhale, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. Jake moaned as the foot grew even larger against his face. Size 16 was going to be the limit as Bryce dropped the shoe and yelled, shooting cum across the room and locking in his fate.
Jake meanwhile inhaled Bryce’s new scent and felt a familiar pressure in his own feet. “Oh yeah,” he moaned as his huge feet pulsed with new growth fuelled by Bryce’s musk. His feet stretched an additional size to match Bryce’s, causing the jock to cum again just like Bryce had.
The pair of big-footed jocks clasped their right hands together and pulled into a brief, sexually charged hug.
What a little good ex-twink, sending you a body pic from his college dorm room within one minute of you asking for it. You knew from his clean-shaven face what was going on. Though he isn’t consciously aware of his sperm-induced development and masculinization over the past week, his subconscious is. He is probably shaving 3 times a day, wearing long sleeves everywhere to cover up his newly hairy arms, and going fully dressed into the bathroom to shower so no one sees his fur covered body. Some of his friends have probably noticed the new dark hair on the back of his hands, but may not have said anything yet. You couldn’t help but wonder, with that explosion of thick fur all over his chest and stomach, what his butt must look like. Time to take it to the next level. “Hmm, still a hairless twink. Let’s try again. 10pm my place.” He liked your message instantly. The next load would make it impossible to hide his development. His beard will come in so quickly and so thick, he won’t be able to keep up with shaving it. His chest hair will no longer stay hidden beneath his shirt collar as it grows up to merge with the hair on his neck. And while the front of him is just about as hairy as it gets, his shoulders and back will be ruthlessly assaulted by your DNA. After tonight, only the top of his face and the palms of his hands and feet would be spared from the the hair growth running rampant all over the rest of his body.
Subject T-1 was flagged by the FCA following reports from students near Northbridge University describing abrupt and unusual behavioral and physiological changes after brief encounters. Investigations suggest the subject emits a persistent olfactory stimulus that appears to directly influence nearby individuals.
T-1 is the son of Montgomery Prescott, president of [REDACTED] and a prominent figure in the [REDACTED] community. His position provides frequent, largely unmonitored access to student populations, though the full implications of this access remain under study.
Eyewitness descriptions note T-1 as tall, athletic, and confident, with a commanding presence. Observations indicate his proximity to his [REDACTED], can provoke measurable changes in subjects’ physicality, cognition and sexual preferences.
Personnel must maintain strict sensory mitigation protocols, including distance and protective equipment, at all times.
Case File – Subjects J-1 / J-2 (College Students):
The earliest confirmed subjects affected by T-1 include two off-campus students residing near [REDACTED] University. Details of these interactions remain classified pending ongoing study.
—————————————————————————
Jack and Harry rented a small off-campus house in the suburbs — a little run-down, but cheap enough to make sense. They’d met through the college’s LGBTQ+ society last year and had barely spent a day apart since. Moving in together just felt natural.
Life had been easy enough — classes, late-night takeout, quiet weekends. At least, until midway through the semester. Their walk to campus took them past the Phi Delta frat house, and the guys there had started to notice them — suggestive moans, fake flirting, crude jokes shouted from the porch. What started as teasing had become a daily routine.
The two learned to ignore it. It was bearable. Until Tyler Prescott came into the picture.
The low hum of Harry’s laptop fan filled the living room on a dark October evening, blending with the faint buzz of their thrifted lamp. Empty mugs and open textbooks cluttered the coffee table, half-eaten instant noodles pushed to one side.
Jack sat cross-legged on the couch, still fuming. “I swear, that Tyler guy is actually insufferable. He keeps calling me a fucking ‘foot smeller.’ In front of the whole class!”
Harry didn’t look up right away, eyes flicking between lines of code on his screen and the slow crawl of a progress bar. “Foot smeller?” he echoed absently. “That’s… bizarre.”
Jack groaned. “No, it’s pathetic. The only reason he’s even in Applied Math is because his dad’s the damn principal. Told the professor — didn’t do a thing.”
“I’m sorry, babe.” Harry’s tone softened as he typed. “He’s a douchebag. He’ll flunk the class and disappear before you know it. Just don’t let him get to you.”
Jack sighed. “He mentioned you too, you know.”
That made Harry look up from his laptop for the first time. “Oh yeah?”
Jack nodded, jaw tightening. “He said, ‘Aye, foot smeller — I know you and that boyfriend of yours want me. He ain’t even gonna remember you when I’m done with him.’”
Harry itched his neck, nervously. He couldn’t even let out a full sentence. “Fuck.”
Jack’s voice rose. “He’s so damn sure we have a crush on him just because we’re gay! It’s like he thinks he’s God’s gift to men.”
Harry squared his shoulders. “He’s an idiot, Jack. Guys like him can’t imagine anyone not being into them. They live in that bubble.”
“Yeah, well,” Jack muttered, “his bubble needs to pop.”
The two nodded in agreement before the silence settled in. Then Jack spoke again, quieter. “Babe… what he said — you’re not into him… right? Like… you wouldn’t ever—”
Harry cut him off gently, setting his laptop aside. “Hey. Not at all. You’re my one and only. No stupid meathead is gonna get in the way of that, okay?”
Jack smiled, leaning in to kiss him — but before he could speak again, a sudden crash echoed from the porch.
Both of them froze.
The sound came again — a heavy thump, like footsteps.
Harry leaned forward, peering toward the window from the couch. “Did you hear that?”
Jack swallowed. “Yeah.”
“I’ll check it,” Harry puffed out his chest.
Jack groaned, but rose immediately, moving to follow him. “Of course you will,” he said under his breath, adjusting his hoodie.
They stepped out onto the porch, the cool October air brushing their faces. The dim porch light illuminated the boards, worn and faded, and the faint smell of spilled beer hung in the air. That’s when they saw him.
Tyler Prescott.
He was leaning back casually on their patio seats, his beefy legs extended over one another. Barefoot, with stained tracksuit pants, showing off his broad shoulders and defined arms. He sat there rolling a smoke, an empty beer can laying on their floor.
He looked up as they approached, and a slow, cocky grin spread across his face. There was no panic, no concern at being caught — only ease, confidence, the kind of presence that made it seem like the world revolved around him. He had this look, the kind of smirk that said, I own this place, and you’re just visitors.
“Evening, footsmellers,” he said casually, voice low and smooth, as though he’d been expecting them all along. “Or should I say night.”
Jack felt his stomach tighten, a mixture of irritation and something else he couldn’t quite place. Harry’s jaw was set, but there was a flicker of wariness in his eyes.
Tyler’s gaze swept over them like a predator assessing its surroundings — amused, unbothered, entirely at home.
Tyler leaned back, letting out a lazy sigh. “You footsmellers look tired,” he said, eyes scanning them both. “Must be exhausting… all that pretending, all day, every day.”
Jack bristled. “Pretending what?”
Tyler’s grin sharpened. “Pretending to be gay. Pretending to live these smart, fulfilling lives. Acting like you’re actually equal to me. There’s no such thing as ‘gay guys’, bozos. You’re just pretending. Must take so much energy to fight it, to go against your true nature. What you actually are.”
Jack’s jaw tightened, holding his stance. But beside him, Harry shifted. His eyes flicked down, then back up — pleading, uncertain, subtle cracks forming in his composure.
Harry suddenly slipped to his knees, staring pleadingly at the man in front of him.
“Harry, what are you doing?!” Jack nudged his boyfriend firmly in shock.
“See,” Tyler smiled at them both. “You’re FOOT SMELLERS. Always have been.”
Tyler leaned back, then kicked his bare feet up onto the table, just in front of them.
The moment the stench hit, Jack’s stomach flipped — sharp, heavy, and… intoxicating. His chest tightened, heart hammering. The smell wrapped around him like heat, like something electric threading into his veins. Every fiber of him wanted to lean in, to inhale more, but he gritted his teeth and pressed a hand to Harry’s arm.
“No… Harry,” he hissed, though his own voice shook. His nose burned from the pleasure of the stink, his mind screaming to give in.
Harry’s eyes were wide, glazed, fixed on Tyler’s feet as if they were the only thing in existence. His lips parted, a thick line of saliva drooling onto the wooden flooring. He trembled, coiled like a spring ready to snap, like a feral animal straining against invisible chains. All he wanted was too let himself go. To give in… but he held out. For Jack.
Tyler chuckled softly and whispered to himself. “Multiply stink by twenty,” he murmured, and as though he bended reality, the pleasureful stink radiating from size 13 feet INTENSIFIED more than the gay boys’ minds could comprehend.
Jack gasped, clamping his hand over his nose, but it didn’t help. The scent — sharp, musky, warm, and alive — flooded his senses, sending electric jolts of pleasure through his body. Every inhale burned and thrilled at once, like tasting something impossible he had always craved. It was dizzying, overwhelming… and beautiful.
Harry could not hold back. With a feral lunge, his tongue shot toward Tyler’s feet, body shuddering, eyes wide with need and longing.
Jack grabbed him, voice frantic. “Harry! Stop! Fight it!”
But Tyler just leaned back, smirking, utterly calm, enjoying every second of their helpless surrender.
Jack’s hands dug into Harry’s shoulders, yanking him backward. “Harry! Stop! Come on!”
But Harry’s grip on Tyler’s feet was iron. His eyes were wide, glazed, almost feral, and he was fighting every inch of Jack’s pull, desperate to suck Tyler’s fat toes.
Jack froze, horrified, as Harry’s body began to betray him. His arms swelled, bulging with thick, juicy muscle, veins threading across the surface like live wiring. His chest expanded dramatically, big, round pecs stretching the fabric of his shirt, inviting and impossibly solid. Jack could see the curve of his shoulders widening, arms tapering to forearms that seemed ready to crush.
Even his legs weren’t safe — they elongated, calves and quads puffing outward, firm and powerful, feet straining against the thin cotton of his socks. Each movement made him taller, broader, more imposing, a living testament to athletic perfection.
Jack’s eyes darted to Harry’s face. His features hardened and coarsened — jaw squarer, cheeks fuller, brows more pronounced. The soft, nerdy look he knew so well had melted away, replaced with something dumbly confident, frat-like, magnetic in a way Jack couldn’t even process.
And yet, somehow, it was terrifying. His boyfriend, the boy he loved, was becoming someone else entirely — someone who could be found striding through Phi Delta, chest out, muscles glistening, toes gripping the floor like a predator.
Tyler laughed softly, leaning back, utterly in control. “Resisting is exhausting, isn’t it?”
Jack’s heart pounded. He had no idea how to stop it — and he could already feel the pull beginning to edge toward himself.
Tyler smiled at Jack, as he watched his boyfriend slobbering over the jocks feet.
“Watch this part” Tyler smiled, his gaze darting to the boy sucking his feet. “What do you want, footsmeller?”
For the first time, Harry plopped the toes out of his mouth and moaned in between licks. “I want your feet, bro.”
Jack’s heart dropped.
Tyler leaned back casually, watching Jack struggle to hold Harry away from his feet. His grin was slow, deliberate, predatory. “Tell me,” he said softly, voice low and teasing. “Do you… love your boyfriend?”
Harry’s chest tightened. The stench of Tyler’s bare feet pressed against his senses, thick and intoxicating, and he could feel every muscle in his body yearning, pulling him toward the source. He swallowed hard, gasping between shivers and sniffs, trying to form words.
“No…” he croaked, voice rough. “I… I didn’t understand… what love was… until I… smelled your feet.” His gaze flicked involuntarily toward Tyler’s feet. “The only things I… I love…” He gave a slobbery suck to Tyler’s wet big toe, “are… your feet… big tits… Asian girls.”
Tyler’s grin widened, sharp and knowing. “Hell yeah brother,” he murmured, almost to himself, as if marking a code. “That’s all you need to know. Everything else… just a distraction.”
Tyler chuckled softly.
“You see?” Tyler whispered. “It’s so much easier to be honest with yourself.”
Tyler leaned forward, a slow, teasing smirk tugging at his lips. “C’mon, Jack… just one sniff.”
Jack’s stomach twisted, mind screaming no, but before he could resist, the intoxicating scent — sharp, warm, utterly magnetic — washed over him. He inhaled. Just once.
The effect was instantaneous. His body tensed, muscles pulsing, swelling, reshaping. Arms expanded, thick and powerful, veins threading across his skin. Chest widened, pecs rounding like sculpted stone, every fiber of him hardening and coiling with impossible strength. Legs lengthened, quads and calves inflating into athletic perfection, feet straining against his sneakers as though reaching for new ground. His hoodie stretched, unable to contain the sudden bulk, and his jaw tightened, cheeks filling out, features sharpening into a confident, jock-like version of himself.
His mind shifted even faster. The world blurred. The smell, the intensity of Tyler’s presence, everything warped. He realized, with a sick, dizzying lurch, that he wasn’t here with Tyler and his boyfriend anymore. The boy next to him wasn’t Harry — it was Hunter. His best friend. The realization hit like a punch.
Images flashed in his mind, uncontrollable and vivid: every girl he had ever kissed, held hands with, bred raw, surfacing like a slideshow he couldn’t pause. Images of his beefy body impregnating women all over campus. Every boy? Gone. Wiped clean. Not a single memory remained. The pull of desire, the intoxicating pleasure, didn’t care about previous loyalty, only the raw, physical craving Tyler had unlocked in him.
Jack’s hands itched to reach out, but everything he’d known, everything he’d felt for Harry, dissolved into something distant and unrecognizable. His mind and body had been rewritten in an instant, sculpted into a perfect jock, burning with lust and confusion, and all the while, Hunter — his best friend — hovered in that warped perception, as though he’d always been the one he’d wanted.
Tyler leaned back, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“I can’t stop thinking about girls, bro!” Jackson moaned in between licks of Tyler’s feet. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna impregnate in my underwear, dude!”
“You’ll get used to it” Tyler smiles, now on his phone, almost uninterested now that he’d achieved his goal. He looks up one more time.
“Just make sure you don’t think about big round mommy tits.” Tyler smiles, knowing exactly what he’d done.
The two boys moan in unison, spraying their gay selves into nothing more than a puddle of cum in their pants.
—————————————————————————
Anomalous Mechanism:
Subject T-1 exerts his influence primarily through a strong odor emitted from his feet. Anyone nearby can be affected almost immediately. Exposure causes rapid physical changes: muscles grow quickly, body shape and facial features shift toward a stereotypical “athletic” look.
T-1 appears to have full control over the strength of this odor and can make it stronger or weaker at will. How he does this—whether it is natural, chemical, or some unknown technology—is still being studied.
Observations indicate that T-1 specifically targets men who are gay, displaying pronounced homophobic behavior toward them. He appears to derive satisfaction from ‘converting’ these individuals, instilling them with intense heterosexual desires, overwriting their homosexuality.
He also displays the power to instil fetishes within individuals - with him installing a ‘Japanese catgirl fetish’ within J-1 (Hunter) and a ‘breeder and mommy fetish’ within J-2 (Jackson), because he believes it is, as he put it, “funny to see f*gs become obscenely straight”.
T-1 was commonly seen wingmanning his subjects in heterosexual clubs, actively aiding them in pursuing women. We speculate that subject T-1 gains sexual satisfaction from turning homosexual men into heterosexual breeders.
Subject File: J-1 & J-2
Identification:
J-1: Formerly “Harry,” now known as Hunter.
J-2: Formerly “Jack,” now known as Jackson.
Acquisition Notes:
Subjects were initially exposed to T-1 on [REDACTED] on off-campus grounds. Both displayed rapid physiological transformation consistent with prior cases: extreme muscular hypertrophy, skeletal restructuring, and alignment toward stereotypical “athletic” morphology. Physical measurements indicate significant increases in height, muscle mass, and overall strength.
Cognitively, both subjects exhibit diminished executive function and memory capacity. They no longer recall their prior relationship or personal histories. Both report themselves as straight, describing each other only as ‘bros’. Previous social bonds, including romantic attachment, appear erased.
Behavioral Observations:
Subjects display a pronounced biological compulsion to engage in sexual activity with women. Hunter demonstrates fixation on Japanese women, specifically in maid dresses & fake cat ears, while Jackson exhibits fixation on impregnating women within the campus population, with 4 pregnancies being recorded within the past 3 months. Attempts to suppress or resist these impulses are ineffective.
Both subjects remain physically cooperative but cognitively diminished.
Despite cognitive changes, neither subject has exhibited aggression toward non-targeted individuals. Social interactions are generally cooperative, though highly focused on reproductive activity surrounding women.
Containment / Release Notes:
T-1 is securely contained under strict sensory isolation and FCA supervision to prevent further transformations, despite repeated attempts by his father, Montgomery Prescott, to secure his release.
In regards to J-1 & J-2, given the absence of violent behavior and the primarily reproductive nature of compulsions, subjects have been released from FCA containment. Both are required to report periodically for monitoring. Ongoing observation protocols remain in effect to track long-term physiological and behavioral outcomes.
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Former pretty boy buried under heavy masculinity, fat hairy tits barely covered by a stringer tank, look on his face giving off total himbo whore energy.
“I’m home!” Your housemate Riley beams with his signature smile that is accentuated by his thick beard. He bounces his enormous, hairy pecs a few times for you as he enters. “That was quite a workout!” Riley says, glistening with sweat from carrying twenty bottles of milk between the reinforced bags in each of his hands. “Here I am sweating like a hog, and I can only just carry half the amount you do.”
Riley, thanks to you, has quickly become nothing short of the epitome of masculinity. Raw muscle explodes out of every part of his body. He has the manliest beard and hairiest chest most people will ever see in their lives. Not to mention his unforgettable and potent musk that reeks of testosterone. He looks like how you did just one week ago. You are like his twin, just bigger, hairier and stinkier.
Riley trudges through the swamp of empty bottles, which are almost up to his knees. To think you two cleaned out the apartment only two days ago. Once he reaches you he gives you a passionate kiss on the lips. “You looked so hot in that commercial yesterday.” Riley whispers in your ear. “I can’t believe they made you shave your beard though.” Luckily for you, your hair grows so fast that you already have a thick stubble. “Also, I know it must have been hard having that milk poured down onto your chest. I know how much you hate wasting milk.”
“It was tough wasting that milk, I just wish you were there so you could have licked it off me. The good thing is I managed to negotiate and get us a lifetime supply of milk because of it. They don’t know the mistake they’ve made.” You smirk as you play with Riley’s sensitive nipples. “By the way, I got you a gig with them next week for another ad.” You twist his nipples a bit harder so that Riley’s excited reaction becomes a moan. “At this rate we will be able to ditch this apartment and buy our own place. Somewhere that can fit us better”
“I won’t miss having to take the elevator separately from you,” Riley smiles, temporarily daydreaming about a long future with you. “And we better hurry up as the building manager is already not happy that you take the elevator even by yourself.”
“It’s discrimination. I can’t help that I’m a growing boy.”
“Safety is what he told me,” Riley teases. “Anyway, I’ve never known you to wait this long to drink some milk. So let’s get into it. I think I’m ready for us to do ten each.”
“All at once? I’m confident I can do it but are you sure about yourself?” Riley nods. “Well we need you to catch up to my size so it sounds like a plan.”
GUUUUULP! GUUUUULP! Nowadays, you manage to down a whole gallon in just two big gulps. Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp. You find it cute that Riley tries to match your pace, but it just makes him gulp even more. You consider slowing down to Riley’s pace but you also know how much he loves it when you smash through gallons in just seconds.
As Riley finishes his second bottle you finish your fifth. You both take a break, both of you panting in unison. Your belly now extends out in front of your massive pecs and it is extremely tight. “You are doing so well,” you say to Riley, patting his bloated belly.
Both of you resume. You have to slow down your pace now. The most you have done in one sitting is actually nine, and you are getting close. As you finish your ninth both with difficulty, Riley also matches his personal best as he finishes up with his sixth.
“You are catching up,” you say between heavy pants. Riley wants to respond but is too breathless. “I am so proud of you for getting this far, I know you can keep going.”
You both explore uncharted territory together. You go slowly and match Riley’s pace. Each gulp makes you feel like you are about to burst. It hurts, but stretching yourself out just that little more turns you on so much. You know that Riley is experiencing the exact same thing. You finish together, as you stare deeply into each other’s eyes.
The pressure in your stomach is unbearable. You want to burp so bad but you have to save it for once Riley is done. Riley looks defeated but you know that he can push through. “I’ll help you out Riley,” you say soothingly, rubbing his gigantic belly. God, he is so hot like this. Blown up like a balloon, milk sloshing around his big belly and massive pecs. He already looks unrecognisable from ten minutes ago, just imagine the muscle he’ll have once he has let out all the gas.
You take Riley’s eighth gallon and pour it into his mouth for him as you stare deeply into his eyes. “Just imagine how gassy we will be after this.” Seven and a quarter. “We will gas out this entire apartment building. “Seven and a half. “And after this session we will keep going for more.” Seven and three quarters. “We will be doing eleven, twelve each.” Eight done. “Twenty before we even know it.” Eight and a quarter. “Imagine how big we will be then.” Eight and a half. “Our muscles will be twice the size.” Eight and three quarters. “We will be able to lift trucks.” Nine done. “And imagine how hairy and smelly we will be.” Nine and a quarter. “Burps that the whole city will smell.” Nine and a half. “We will never stop growing together.” Nine and a quarter. “We will grow until we are as wide as we are tall. Then we will keep growing past that. We will both finish gallons in one glug. We will drink hundreds in one sitting, what will stop us? To get there you just need to finish off this one. You have smashed your record already and you are about to match mine. I know you can do it” Ten done.
He is a beast just like you. That’s why you love him. You make Riley stand up with you so that you can assess just how huge he is. Just like you his gut has over tripled in size and his pecs have ballooned out as well. “Was someone a little thirsty? You poke his belly teasingly. “You know one gallon of milk a day is a lot for an ordinary person. Let alone ten one after the other. Didn’t you already have five gallons this morning?”
“You had four gallons before I even woke up,” Riley teases back as he grabs your belly with both hands and shakes it. “Then another eight after that. I’m not nearly as gluttonous as you are, but don’t worry I will be soon.” Riley saying that makes you rock hard.
You are really feeling the cramps now and can only imagine that Riley is feeling worse, so it’s time to let it rip. Before you do Riley leans in, able to catch his breath enough to speak. “By the way, all those dreams you spoke about before. It’s unrealistic. We’ll drink more than just hundreds, and we’ll be bigger than is humanly possible and then we will grow bigger than that.” You somehow get even harder. You don’t have anything left to say. Well there is one thing that you want to say, and you just have to say it with Riley…
I Beginnings ● II Gamer Grows Up ● III Sorry For The Backwash ● IV Deliverer ● V World Peace
2K Follower Writer’s Challenge:
Viral Transformation
Jock/Himbo
Most Recent: Lovers on an Island ● GOAT For A Reason ● Sun Shy ● Bike Lane ● Confidence.EXE ● Sweat It Out ● Wish Came True ● Lifter’s Apprentice ● Asked & Answered: Shame ● Epecdemic ● I Don’t Get Pit ● Coming Soon: Philter Out, Clickbaited, and Penalty Box
Bear/Dilf
Most Recent: Look Your Age ● Green Eyes Of Envy ● In The Rink: Dunks ● Slice Of Italy ● Talismen II: Gamer Grows Up ● For Sale: Dad Shoes ● Free Flag ● Barbearcue ● Topping Off ● Ancient History ● Life In Film ● VitaMen Vitamins: Bear It All
Cultural/Racial
Rosa's Cafe ● Those Holi Days ● Should've Worn Green ● Terracotta Turmoil ● Ramadan Recitations ● Anything For Extra Credit ● Actually, They're Called Tetrominoes ● Spanish Shortcuts ● K-Pop Conundrum ● One More Lap ● Ni Hao!Nyc ● Subcontinental Promotion ● Look Your Age ● Marichismo ● Change Your Tune: Alvaro ● New Fortune
Frat
No Need To Pledge, Just Drink ● Legacies Are Supposed To Change ● How Many Drinks? ● New Meaning To Hazing ● Man Of Your Dreams ● Follow Your Nose ● Tailgating ● Peace Together ● Frat Founding ● Frat Friends
Military/Cop
Wouldn't It Be Funny? ● Coast Guard Compensation ● Anchors Aweigh ● Jonny Get Your Gun ● AL:IV Everycop
Cowboy/Redneck
Ain’t No Place For A City Boy ● Country Charm ● Beau Of The Ball ● Halloween Bacchanal ● Keep On Trucking ● Community Service ● Content Farming
Role Swap
Diet Diaries ● Chauffeur Swap ● Queering The Ring ● Conjuration: The Call ●Couples Counseled: Confidence ● Couples Counseled: Care ● Twink Turnabout ● Access Denied ● Perfect For Each Other
Devolution
Pre-Homo Sapience ● Conjuration: The Call ● Evo Bio 101
Stoner
Ugh, I Hate Bongs. ● Higher Education ● Virulent Strain
Preppification
A Paragon Man ● Peace Together ● Wine Drunk ● Triumvirate ● Welcome To Apolline Grove
Surfer
Shaka-Screen ● Surfin’ The Years Away
Misc
Tarot: The Knight of Swords ● Daddy: How To Be A Father ● Twunkification: To The Ground Floor ● Temp E-Boy: Influencing Goes Both Ways ● Surfer: Shaka-Screen ● Biker: Helmet Left Behind ● Superhero: Zero to Hero ● Greaser: Bumming A Smoke ● Many Tfs: Halloween Bacchanal and The Power Of Desire
At twenty-eight, he was already a senior associate at one of the most aggressive litigation firms in the city. Six-foot-one. Tailored suits. Dark hair styled with effortless precision. A jawline sharp enough to intimidate juries before he ever opened his mouth.
He drove a black Mercedes. Of course he did.
That night, rain slicked the highway as he left the office late, Bluetooth call still active, voice calm and controlled as he dismantled opposing counsel’s strategy for the third time that week.
Then the headlights came.
Too fast.
Too close.
Metal screamed.
Glass exploded.
Darkness swallowed everything.
When Grant woke, the world was sterile white and humming.
His body felt heavy. Tight. Like it had been rebuilt.
A doctor stood at his bedside, speaking carefully. There had been internal bleeding. Severe blood loss. Critical.
“There was a shortage,” the doctor said evenly. “We had to act quickly.”
Grant barely processed it. His throat was dry. His veins felt… full.
Unnaturally full.
The next day, something felt different.
It started subtle.
Restlessness.
His muscles twitched beneath the hospital gown. His heart beat harder than it should have. His thoughts sharpened — not just clear, but aggressive. Competitive. Territorial.
When another patient down the hall raised his voice at a nurse, Grant felt a surge of irritation so intense it startled him. His jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists without him realizing.
By day three, it was impossible to ignore.
Heat pooled low in his body for no reason at all. His appetite doubled. His voice seemed deeper when he spoke. He felt… charged.
Like a wire pulled too tight.
Like something inside him had been switched on.
He caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror and paused.
His eyes looked darker somehow. Focused. Predatory.
His chest rose and fell heavier. His skin looked almost flushed with vitality. He flexed his hand experimentally and felt a strength there that hadn’t existed before the crash.
He laughed once under his breath.
“What the hell did they pump into me?”
He didn’t know the donor had been a man with testosterone levels off the charts. A body dense with androgen receptors. Thick hair. Raw, biological force.
He didn’t know concentrated androgens were now saturating his bloodstream.
All he knew was that he felt like he was about to burst out of his own skin.
And then there was the nurse.
Evan.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark scruff lining his jaw. Calm eyes that held Grant’s gaze a second too long.
Grant noticed him immediately.
Not in the polite way he’d occasionally admired attractive men before. This was different. This was magnetic. Physical. His pulse spiked every time Evan stepped into the room.
The air between them grew heavier each day - almost like thick, hot hair swallowed on a humid day.
Evan adjusted Grant’s IV one afternoon, leaning close. Grant could smell clean soap and something warm beneath it — skin, sweat, male.
A flicker of something passed between them.
Grant’s body reacted instantly.
Heat.
Need.
Instinct.
“You’re recovering fast,” Evan said quietly, eyes scanning Grant’s vitals.
“I feel…” Grant swallowed. “Different.”
Evan’s gaze dropped briefly — taking him in — before returning to his eyes.
“Different how?”
Grant held his stare.
“Like I’ve got too much energy. Like I could run through a wall.”
Evan’s lips curved slightly.
“That can happen after trauma.”
But his voice had lowered.
The tension stretched.
It was Grant who reached first.
Not delicately. Not cautiously.
He caught Evan’s wrist as the nurse turned to leave. Firm. Certain.
The look that passed between them wasn’t confusion.
It was savage recognition... Something animal.
Later, behind a locked hospital room door, the electricity finally broke.
It wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t romantic.
It was urgent.
Grant felt like he was starving — and Evan met him with equal intensity. Hands gripped. Breath mingled. Lips pressed into lips and warm, masculine skin. A clash of dominance and surrender that surprised even Grant himself.
He’d never felt this driven. This instinctive.
Like something primal had taken the wheel.
When it was over, Grant lay back against the pillow, covered in sweat, heart pounding, body humming with a satisfaction that felt deeper than anything he’d known before.
Evan, naked, with his scrubs on the floor, laid his head on Grants chest and studied him for a long moment.
“You’re going to be trouble,” the nurse murmured.
Grant smirked, running a hand through his hair.
“I always have been... but I think more now than ever.”
As he said it, he felt it again.
That surge.
That pressure building beneath his skin.
This wasn’t normal recovery.
This was something else.
Something growing.
Something that hadn’t finished changing him yet.
And when he was discharged two days later, stepping back into the world in a tailored suit that suddenly felt tighter across his shoulders…
What would come to feel like a grueling second puberty had only just begun.
Part 2: The Second Puberty
The first sign wasn’t the hair.
It was his voice.
Grant didn’t notice it at first — not consciously. It was the reaction in the courtroom that tipped him off.
Three weeks after the accident, he stood before a packed civil litigation hearing. Tailored charcoal suit. Perfect posture. Controlled expression.
Opposing counsel attempted to interrupt him mid-argument.
Grant didn’t raise his voice.
He simply said, “I’m not finished.”
The words landed like a dropped weight.
Low.
Resonant.
Commanding.
The room stilled.
The judge blinked. Opposing counsel sat down without another word.
Grant felt it — that vibration in his chest. His voice wasn’t just deeper. It carried. It pressed into the room and held it there.
He finished his argument with ruthless precision, every sentence clipped and confident. The jury’s eyes never left him.
When he returned to his seat, a senior partner leaned over and muttered, “Whatever you’re doing — keep doing it.”
Grant smirked.
He hadn’t been doing anything.
But he felt… bigger.
His shoulders seemed broader in his suit. His grip firmer when he shook hands. When he caught his reflection in the firm’s glass doors, something about him looked more imposing.
Sharper.
Hungrier.
And then the itching started.
It began at night.
A faint prickle across the tops of his feet.
Grant kicked off his sheets, looking down at his skin. He had always been well groomed, polished. Just enough hair to make you feel his masculine texture. He took care of himself.
But now…
He leaned closer.
Dark specks.
Fine at first.
By morning, they weren’t fine anymore.
The hair on the tops of his feet had thickened overnight — dark, coarse strands pushing through in dense patches. It startled him enough that he actually laughed once in disbelief.
“That’s new.”
He ran his hand over it.
The texture was rougher than anything he’d ever grown before.
By the end of the week, it wasn’t confined to his feet.
It crept upward.
Over his ankles first — curling thickly around the bone, filling in the hollow spaces. Then climbing his calves in a dense, dark wave. Not patchy. Not gradual.
Aggressive.
Like his body had been waiting for permission.
Grant stood in front of his bathroom mirror one evening, dress pants pooled at his feet, staring down at himself.
His calves were transforming before his eyes — the hair darkening to near black, thickening into a pelt that caught the light. It framed the muscle there, emphasizing the hard lines of his legs.
He flexed.
The muscle jumped — fuller than he remembered.
The hair followed the shape like it belonged there.
By the next morning, it had advanced past his knees.
Snaking upward.
His thighs had always been lean. Defined, but controlled.
Now the hair spread over them with startling speed — wrapping around the backs first, then pushing forward. Dense. Masculine. Wild.
It felt hot.
His skin felt hotter in general lately — like his metabolism had doubled. His appetite had become insatiable. He was back in the gym with a ferocity he hadn’t felt since college athletics, pushing weight higher and higher with a competitive snarl he barely recognized as his own.
Men watched him differently now.
In the locker room, conversations quieted when he walked by.
He caught one associate staring at his legs when his dress pants rode up slightly as he sat.
Grant held the man’s gaze until he looked away.
Something territorial flickered in his chest.
Mine.
The thought startled him.
Mine?
He wasn’t like this.
Was he?
At night, the sensations intensified.
His body hummed with restless energy. Heat pooled beneath his skin like a furnace. The hair continued to thicken — spreading across his thighs until there was no smooth skin left.
He stood barefoot on his hardwood floor one evening, looking down at himself in quiet awe.
From the tops of his feet…
Over his ankles…
Wrapping his calves…
Claiming his thighs…
It wasn’t just hair.
It felt like armor.
Like something ancient and male was surfacing.
He exhaled slowly.
His voice rumbled in the empty room.
“This isn’t normal.”
But there was no fear in his tone.
Only anticipation.
Because beneath the physical changes, something else was shifting.
His thoughts were more decisive.
His instincts quicker.
His patience shorter.
He didn’t just argue in court now.
He dominated.
And as the dark hair continued its upward march, thick and unapologetic, Grant began to realize something —
This wasn’t stopping.
The blood inside him wasn’t done rewriting him yet.
Part 3: The Gym Mirror
Grant had always treated the gym like a battlefield.
Controlled. Disciplined. Efficient.
But lately it felt different.
He wasn’t just training — he was unleashing something.
The weights felt lighter every week. His body recovered faster. His endurance bordered on unnatural. Other men had started watching him openly now, tracking the way he moved through the space with focused intensity.
And the hair…
It had continued its relentless advance.
Up his thighs.
Over his hips.
That afternoon, midway through heavy squats, he felt it again — that deep, tingling heat under his skin. Not surface-level itching.
Pressure.
Like something pushing outward.
He racked the bar harder than necessary, chest heaving. Sweat rolled down his back. His skin felt tight — stretched.
Then it happened.
A sharp, electric prickle spread across his lower back and down over the curve of his glutes.
Grant froze.
His pulse thundered in his ears.
He set the bar and walked — steady, controlled — toward the locker room, ignoring the curious looks.
Inside, the fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Steam drifted from the showers. The room smelled like metal, sweat, and soap.
Grant stood in front of the full-length mirror.
For a moment, he just stared at himself.
His legs were fully transformed now — thick, dark hair wrapping every muscle, emphasizing the powerful lines of his calves and thighs. It didn’t look patchy or awkward.
It looked natural.
As if this had always been hiding beneath the surface.
His breathing slowed.
Then he reached for the waistband of his blue workout shorts.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
He peeled them down just enough to expose the curve of his hip.
And stopped.
The hair had crested the boundary.
Dark strands curled upward from the backs of his thighs and over the rounded muscle of his glutes — dense and unapologetic. Not soft. Not faint.
A coat.
Thick enough to change the silhouette of him.
Grant turned slightly, watching in the mirror as more seemed to surface in real time — the follicles darkening, thickening, filling in the powerful shape of him.
His glutes flexed instinctively, the muscle fuller than before — heavier, stronger. The hair followed every contour, accentuating the sheer density of him.
He swallowed.
Heat coiled low in his stomach again — that constant hum of androgen-driven energy.
He’d never been particularly hairy before.
Now?
He looked primal.
Raw.
A man carved out of something older than modern polish and tailored suits.
The locker room door opened behind him. Voices filtered in.
Grant met his own gaze in the mirror.
His eyes looked darker again.
More territorial.
He pulled his shorts back into place slowly, but the awareness remained — the weight of the change, the undeniable masculinity radiating off him now.
When he stepped back out onto the gym floor, men noticed immediately.
Not consciously, maybe.
But instinctively.
Space opened for him.
Conversations quieted.
Grant moved with a new heaviness — not sluggish, but grounded. Solid. Like gravity itself had increased around him.
And beneath the thickening hair, beneath the growing muscle, beneath the deepening voice…
The blood inside him pulsed.
Demanding more.
This wasn’t just surface-level anymore.
The transformation wasn’t climbing.
It was claiming.
And something told him his chest — his back — his entire upper body was next.
Part 4: Claimed
Grant knew it was coming.
He could feel it building for days — that tight, simmering pressure beneath the skin of his upper body. His back felt hypersensitive, like every nerve ending had been plugged into an outlet.
It happened late at night.
He was standing shirtless in his penthouse bathroom, city lights glowing behind him through the glass. His reflection looked… massive.
Broader than he remembered.
His shoulders seemed wider. His traps thicker. His chest fuller, heavier with muscle.
Then the heat flared.
It started at the base of his spine — a sharp, electric ripple that shot upward.
Grant braced both hands on the marble counter as the sensation climbed his back. Not pain.
Expansion.
A rolling wave of prickling intensity spread over his shoulder blades. His breath deepened. His jaw tightened.
In the mirror, he watched it happen.
Dark strands began surfacing along his lower back first — pushing through in clusters, thick and coarse. They spread outward and upward rapidly, filling in across the powerful expanse of muscle there.
It didn’t look accidental.
It looked inevitable.
The hair surged higher, crawling over his lats and wrapping around his shoulders like a mantle. His deltoids flexed instinctively as the follicles thickened, darkened — turning his upper body into something far more primal than the smooth, polished lawyer he’d once been.
Grant exhaled slowly.
“F*ck…”
But his voice only rumbled deeper now.
The wave didn’t stop.
It spilled forward.
He watched in stunned focus as the hair crested over his shoulders and began pouring down across his chest.
His pecs twitched — fuller than ever, striations visible even at rest. Dark hair erupted across them in a dense spread, starting at the center and radiating outward. Not sparse.
Not decorative.
Thick.
It followed the contours of his muscle like it had been designed for it — settling into the grooves, emphasizing the mass of him.
Grant lifted a hand and dragged it slowly down his chest.
The sensation was overwhelming.
His palm disappeared into the dense growth as it spread lower — down his sternum, across his ribs, claiming every inch of skin that had once defined him.
The line continued downward — a heavy trail carving over his abdomen. His stomach tightened reflexively, abs flexing beneath the advancing coat.
Hair flooded across them — turning sharp definition into something wilder. More dominant. A powerful masculine pelt that transformed him from refined to raw.
And then his arms.
The tingling shot outward from his shoulders, racing down his biceps. He watched as dark strands burst forth along the outer curves first — thickening almost instantly. His forearms followed, becoming heavily coated within seconds.
His veins stood out more now — roped and pronounced beneath the new density.
He flexed once, slowly.
The mirror reflected something entirely different than the man who’d survived that accident.
He wasn’t just hairy.
He was fully transformed.
Back.
Shoulders.
Chest.
Arms.
Stomach.
Covered in a dense, dark coat that made him look less like a corporate predator and more like something carved from instinct and testosterone.
Grant straightened to his full height.
His silhouette had changed. He looked heavier. Stronger. Grounded in a way that felt ancient.
His breathing steadied.
But inside?
The hum was louder than ever.
His thoughts felt sharper. More decisive. His patience thinner. His confidence — bordering on dominance — radiated off him in waves.
He rolled his shoulders once and watched the thick hair ripple with the motion.
This wasn’t cosmetic.
It felt like evolution.
Like the donor’s blood hadn’t just altered him physically — it had unlocked something buried deep in male biology.
Grant leaned closer to the mirror, studying his own eyes.
They didn’t look startled anymore.
They looked… satisfied.
And beneath the dense coat of hair, beneath the expanding muscle and deepened voice, one thought settled firmly in his mind:
This wasn’t finished.
Whatever had been infused into his veins still had more to claim.
Part 5 (Finale): Apex
The transformation didn’t stop at hair.
It went deeper.
1. His Scent
Grant noticed it first in elevators.
Men stood a little straighter around him now. Subtle glances. Flared nostrils. A shift in posture that wasn’t conscious but instinctive.
His natural scent had changed.
Richer.
Heavier.
Warm with something unmistakably male.
Not cologne. Not sweat.
Him.
In the locker room, conversations stalled when he walked past. One associate from his firm actually swallowed hard when Grant stepped close to retrieve his bag.
Grant could feel it.
They reacted to him.
Not to the suit.
Not to the title.
To the biology.
Something in his bloodstream was broadcasting dominance — and other men were picking it up whether they meant to or not.
He didn’t try to hide it.
He stopped wearing cologne entirely.
Let them smell what he’d become.
2. Courtroom Predator
In court, it was no longer just skill.
It was presence.
Grant stood before juries like a force of nature. His deeper voice filled every inch of space without effort. When he paced, it felt calculated — territorial.
Opposing counsel avoided direct confrontation now.
Even senior partners deferred subtly in meetings.
He interrupted without apology.
Held eye contact longer.
Spoke slower — because he could.
When he leaned forward across the conference table one afternoon and calmly dismantled a competitor’s proposal, the man physically leaned back.
Grant saw it.
And something inside him approved.
The donor’s traits were no longer whispers.
They were instincts.
Decisive.
Territorial.
Uncompromising.
He wasn’t becoming reckless.
He was becoming apex.
3. The Other Mind: The Donor
It came to him at night.
Not voices.
Not hallucinations.
More like impulses that didn’t feel entirely self-originated.
A craving for physical dominance.
A sharper territorial edge.
A hunger to claim rather than chase.
He would catch himself thinking differently.
Less negotiation.
More assertion.
But the most startling shift?
He no longer questioned it.
Instead of resisting the changes, Grant began integrating them.
Yes, he had been ambitious before.
But this version of him didn’t seek approval.
He commanded outcomes.
And beneath the thick pelt covering his powerful frame, beneath the deep voice and heavy scent and predatory calm…
He felt complete.
Evan
Grant texted him.
Come over.
No emojis. No softness.
Evan arrived within the hour.
When the door opened, Evan actually froze.
Grant filled the doorway.
Barefoot.
Broad.
Completely transformed.
Dark hair coated his chest, his arms, disappearing beneath low-slung black sweats. His shoulders seemed carved wider than before. His presence alone shifted the air in the room.
Evan’s eyes moved over him slowly.
“Grant…”
His voice wasn’t teasing tonight.
It was affected.
Grant stepped closer.
Evan inhaled — subtle, involuntary.
There it was.
That reaction.
Grant watched it happen.
The slight swallow.
The dilation of pupils.
The shift in stance.
His scent had landed.
“Still worried I’m trouble?” Grant asked quietly.
His voice wasn’t just deeper now.
It vibrated.
Evan’s breath hitched — just slightly.
“You’re not the same man I met in that hospital bed.”
Grant reached up — slow, deliberate — and brushed his knuckles along Evan’s jaw.
Not rough.
But claiming.
“I know.”
The donor’s instinct surged — not chaotic, not uncontrolled.
Focused.
Grant stepped into Evan’s space until their chests nearly touched. Evan didn’t step back.
He leaned in.
Grant could feel it.
The surrender.
Not forced.
Chosen.
His hand slid to Evan’s waist, firm.
“You’re mine,” he murmured — not possessive in insecurity, but in certainty.
Evan exhaled slowly.
“Yeah,” he said, softer now. “I think I am.”
Grant pulled him closer — not frantic like the hospital encounter.
Controlled.
Dominant.
Evan melted into him — into the heat, the scent, the dense, powerful body that now dwarfed him.
Grant felt it settle into place.
The transformation wasn’t about hair.
It wasn’t about testosterone.
It wasn’t even about dominance.
It was about integration.
The polished lawyer and the primal force inside him had fused.
And standing there in his penthouse — wrapped around the man who had witnessed his rebirth — Grant understood something fully for the first time since the crash:
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I have always wanted a big fat masculine daddy as a boyfriend, he currently is sweet and fit but it would be nice if he could dominate me with sheer weight and masculinity you know?
One would beg to wonder if your boyfriend realizes what you have wishes on him? Does he know that you wish for him to be large and in charge ? For him to have a massive gut to weigh down on you ? Does he want this too ? It really sounds very selfish of you wishing for this. But lucky for you I’m a selfish person. And it sounds like he deserves to to gain a few pounds. So how about this. I’ll just remove one simple thing from his little fit sweet mind. Satiability. With a snap of my finger he will only feel one thing. HUNGER. Intense. Ravenous. HUNGER. Immediately your phone is. Lent asking what’s for dinner. He can’t wait to eat and cut his workout short. What he doesn’t realize is that his workouts will become shorter and shorter until he won’t be working out at all. His new hunger won’t allow it. He’s going to be snacking all the time. Craving anything calorie rich. It’s not long before he starts to show the small signs of a gut. He complains about it but his hunger still won’t dissipate. Dr appts show that nothing is wrong with him. And yet his hunger still won’t go away. Water makes him gag. Anything diet makes him physically sick. Vegetables make him sick now. Only high calorie food will do for your growing man. After two months of his constant eating he’s ballooned up with a massive gut. And he doesn’t show any signs of stopping. And why would he? His hunger isn’t going to stop anytime soon. In fact it might never stop! You wanted him big didn’t you? And the sex has never been better for you. He gets out of breath a lot now. And you have to do a lot of the work for him. But his forced growth is such a turn on for you. And he’s none the wiser that you do this to him. You sit on the edge of your bed and watch him as he finishes off another 2 liter soda for the evening. “Ok babe. We need to hurry up. I’m so hungry! And that soda didn’t do anything for me !!!” He says to you as if he stands up and his massive gut protrudes out in front of him. Hard as a rock. He’s so musky and sweaty from carrying the massive boulder. And even more you can hear his stomach growling demanding more food which almost makes you lose it there on the bed. He lays down and a your just amazed at the massive mountain of gut that lays on top of him now. “Oh I have a surprise for you babe. Close your eyes!” He did so and you pull a triple layered chocolate cake out from under the bed and stay feeding it to him. Instantly he came as he groans opening his eyes and loses control eating cake from your hands. “That’s it babe. Eat to your hearts content. You’re a growing man aren’t you?” And he just moans in ecstasy as he finished the entire cake. While you prepare you prepare to mount him for the finale. And while riding him with each thrust you command him to beg “make me bigger” with each thrust bringing you both to climax. Only he doesn’t realize that you are going to make him so much bigger. Much bigger indeed.
Nothing can defeat the subconscious. Once tapped into you can become completely addicted to just about anything without even realising. These things can change you until you are unrecognisable from your old self, and you wouldn’t even know you were changing. That’s not to say these changes are always bad though…
Take milk for example. You never drank it much, especially not by itself. That was until recently. One day, advertisements for milk started appearing everywhere around you. On your social media feed, on billboards you pass by for work, and even places you wouldn’t expect like on the sides of vending machines in your local gym. You didn’t realise that these were popping up so frequently, or even that they had one specific thing in common. They were all advertised alongside very attractive, masculine men. This worked quite well on you as you not only wanted to be those men, you wanted to be with those men. You lusted for them, and by association you lusted for milk. Which brings you to today, leaving the supermarket with a gallon of milk proudly swinging by your side.
You had worked out earlier today, so you were naturally quite thirsty. Why not take a sip of that delicious milk you are carrying? You feel very odd as you uncap the bottle of milk and drink straight from it in public. It feels almost taboo. As the milk hits your lip you realise just how thirsty you are and you can’t take it away from your lips. You tip the bottle back further and further as you gulp loudly in succession. You let out a satisfied ahhh and wipe the residue milk off your moustache as you finish your big chug, oblivious you had drunk almost half of the gallon. That shame you had before now mixes with a feeling of arousal. You felt hot chugging that milk like a man, and you oddly enjoyed the stares you got.
You strut into your apartment building with a new sense of confidence. You have no clue as to why you feel so good, but you feel on top of the world. You and a few other residents get into the elevator together. The elevator is quite small so it feels crowded. It doesn’t bother you as much as usual, and instead you check yourself out in the elevator’s mirror. Wow, your chest looks much bigger than usual! Strange given it was actually leg day for you today, so you are not expecting your pecs to have a pump.
You are so excited you put the milk on the floor and shamelessly play with your pecs, not caring about what the others in the elevator think. You smile and pick the bottle of milk back up off the floor. As you do you unscrew the cap and chug the rest of the milk. The elevator arrives at your floor right as you finish off the milk. UUUURRRP! Your loud, obnoxious burp clears your pathway and you strut out the elevator ignoring the faces of disgust.
You haphazardly throw the empty bottle of milk on the ground once you get into your apartment. Without thinking you head straight for the fridge not even knowing what you are looking for. Your roommate Riley’s bottle of milk catches your eye. You go to grab it but you hesitate. Maybe I shouldn’t drink it without telling him, you think, but a rumble in your belly is enough to convince you that he wouldn’t mind if you had a sip. It was a fresh gallon of milk and you almost feel bad as you break the seal and start drinking.
Gulp, gulp, gulp. It’s so good I can’t stop. Gulp, gulp, gulp. Damn, I better stop soon. I've almost had half. Gulp, gulp, gulp. Well, I’ll leave at least a quarter and then I can just buy him another one tomorrow. Gulp, gulp, gulp! Shit, it’s almost empty. Just one last bit then I’ll stop. Gulp!
BUUUURRRP! The bottle of milk crashes onto the floor; its cap bounces a few times before rolling away. The bottle is bone dry and a milky stench lingers about the room. PFFFFFFFT. The stench grows stronger and fouler.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! The residents in the apartment below hear what sounds like a giant stomping. Up above a six foot slab of muscle, freshly thickened by an inhuman two gallon milk binge, jumps up and down in joy. Attached are two meaty shelves that bounce like jelly and have mat of dark hair that was not there earlier in the day. A chiselled jaw above is also covered with a darker and thicker fuzz. Beads of sweat rain down from the glistening figure and form a damp patch on the carpet.
BRRAAAUUUURRRP! A thunder-like roar is heard in each apartment on the floor and signals the end of the thumping that shakes the floor like an earthquake.
Two days later.
Riley returns home from work and opens the door to his shared apartment. “What the hell!” He says gagging as a wave of foul odour crashes into him, burning his nostril hairs. The floor of the apartment has been turned into a sea of empty bottles of milk. A mound of stinky, sweaty, hairy, beefy muscle sits on the now stained sofa. Riley does not recognise what he is looking at.
Two days prior, Riley returned to find that his bottle of milk had been finished off. A replacement bottle was bought for him, but that too had been demolished by the time he came home. The next day two apology bottles were bought but Riley took matters into his own hands by buying himself a bottle. All three were empty and lying on the floor alongside two more bottles when he got home yesterday. A frustrated Riley cleaned up the mess and freshened the musty apartment while the culprit snored loudly in its bedroom. Today, Riley returns with a new bottle of milk that he has no plan on sharing.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT! The fart starts out slow and airy, ramping up the loudness and intensity over a ten second period. It hits Riley’s nose before it's finished, his eyes water and he coughs uncontrollably. It’s a putrid smell that completely overwhelms his senses but the milky aftertaste in the back of his throat leaves him with some cravings. Riley takes the opportunity now to drink his milk, something he hasn’t been able to do for a few days. However, a powerful force snatches away the bottle before he can unscrew the cap. Riley ducks as the cap is thrown over him without regard.
GLUG! GLUG! GLUG! An entire gallon is consumed in just three glugs. One more bottle joins the countless others on the floor, not a single drop left amongst them. “No!” Riley whines. “Please, I need some milk. Just a little bit!”
BWWWOOOOOOOOUUUUUURRRRRP!!! Riley’s hair blows back from the blast. The sound reverberates through the whole building and a few residents suspect a small earthquake has hit the area. Riley’s body is tingling from shock and his nose so overpowered he is beyond gagging or coughing. The stench only sends one message to Riley’s brain: milk.
There is only one place left that Riley can think of to get milk. He pulls down the damp material that covers the lower half of the swollen sofa beast and reveals a long and girthy piece of meat. Desperate, Riley shoves it into his mouth. It is so salty and tangy that on a usual day Riley would gag before it even reached his mouth, but today he wants it more than anything. He slides it in and out of his mouth quickly, hoping to dispense the milk hidden inside as soon as possible. Two strong hands, each bigger than his head, help him out by slamming the meat deep into his throat and then back out again.
As Riley’s throat is being destroyed he turns his gaze upwards. UUUURRRP! Two gigantic jugs of beefy muscle slosh up and down with each thrust. Riley thinks about drinking milk from those and the thought almost makes him bust. BRRAAAAP! Above the bouncing muscles, there is a thick beard of hair that had grown from just some stubble a few days prior. Riley knew logically what he was looking at but was unable to connect it to the face and body he had known for so long. BWOOOORRRP! The thrusts get deeper, harder and faster, and his throat stretches more than he thought possible. He cannot breathe but he knows he is so close to getting what he wants.
BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRP!!!! With the ear-shattering noise an eruption of thick milk pumps into Riley. It is everything he needed and more. The stream does not stop after one pump, and Riley feels himself bloating fast. After a couple of gallons have been deposited into Riley, he crashes back into the sea of empty bottles. Passed out, he doesn’t feel his body thicken up rapidly and dark hairs sprout out from his chest and jaw.
When confronted out the front of the gym by a man offering to sell you a large 2kg bottle of protein powder, you felt stupid forking over the cash. You looked down at the bottle with its ridiculous name: ‘2Good2B: MASSive MASS Protein Powder’. You thought to yourself that there is no chance this will help you at all. But is that really what you thought? You did buy it after all, so you must have thought deep down that there is a small chance this can be the missing ingredient that will finally turn your small, lean body into one bursting with muscle.
The bottle read: ‘Stimulates growth and guaranteed to significantly increase mass within a week’. It read exactly like an overpromising scam, but that didn’t stop you from putting into your protein shake and doing your workout as usual. Your gym session didn’t feel any different, and you didn’t feel any different afterwards either, besides feeling a bit deflated after your questionable purchase.
The next day.
It was hard to get out of bed; your body felt like it was filled with lead. You eventually willed yourself up, as you did every morning, to get ready for your morning jog. Once you were on your feet you noticed the heavy feeling still hadn’t gone away. You must not have slept well last night, you thought. It was when you put on your clothes that you finally realised something was up. Both your shirt and your shorts hugged your body tightly like they ever had before. It couldn’t be, could it?
You were a stud. That’s exactly what you thought as you looked into the mirror, flexing your biceps that now barely fit into your sleeves. It wasn’t just your arms, but your chest, legs and butt were all hugged tightly by your clothes. It felt amazing. You couldn’t wait to test out this new body on your jog, but most of all you couldn’t wait to down more of that protein powder and hit the gym.
Two days after using the protein powder.
As much as you didn’t want to get your expectations up too high, you were excited to wake up the next morning and see how your body had changed this time. You felt heavy yet again, and this time quite sweaty too. Your first instinct was to reach for your pecs and feel if they had grown bigger. They indeed had grown a little bigger but that wasn’t all. They were hairy! Quite hairy too!
You rushed for the mirror, and what stared back at you was not someone you recognised. You had a beard to go along with your hairy chest. You had hairy arms and legs too; you were hairy all over. You didn’t know what to think, but you weren’t complaining that you felt a little bigger than the day before. If a bit of hair was the only cost for all this mass, then you didn’t mind one bit.
Three days after using the protein powder.
Hair was not the only side-effect you had to worry about, as when you looked in the mirror that morning you found a soft, hairy belly protruding out in front of you. In a sense, this wasn’t a side-effect as much as it was a part of the main product. You certainly had ‘significantly increased’ your mass overnight.
This protein powder adventure sure had been a rollercoaster, and you were disappointed it had to end with so much damage having been done to your waistline.
UUURRRP! Your belch stunk of that dreaded protein powder. Without even thinking you started rubbing that bloated belly of yours. All that gas leaving your stomach made you realise just how hungry you were.
As you searched your kitchen for something to eat, the cursed bottle of protein powder kept catching your eye. ‘MASSive MASS Protein Powder’. It had truly made you massive. Every time you looked at it your stomach seemed to growl in response. Maybe your protein powder adventure didn’t have to end here. No, what were you thinking, why would you consume anymore of that questionable substance?
However, it was your stomach that won over your mind; you were hungry and it felt like it was the only thing that could truly satisfy your empty stomach. You downed a whole bottle of your protein shake then made another shake for your trip to the gym. You wanted to see if you could find the guy who sold this protein powder and get him to explain himself.
Of course, the man wasn’t there but since you were at the gym it was time to start turning that mass on your belly back into muscle mass.
Four days after using the protein powder.
UUUURRRRPP!
It seemed that your belly had become your morning alarm, set to wake you up as soon as it felt like it needed to be fed. Boy did it need to be fed too, your stomach felt like a bottomless pit of hunger. You knew you had made a big mistake in continuing to use that protein powder yesterday.
You rolled out of bed, and made your way to assess the latest damage. It was a tough decision to go see your progress over filling up your ravenous belly. Maybe it was pointless to look in the mirror as each loud step gave a clear indicator that the news wasn’t going to be pretty anyway.
Yep, you were even bigger. This time however, instead of the mass going all to your belly, your muscles had exploded with size underneath your soft exterior. You felt the need to capture this moment and snapped a photo of your huge, hairy, beefy body in your tight underwear. No doubt you were going to have to do a complete wardrobe do-over.
GRROOOOWLL! It was time for your stomach to take over. You stomped off down to the kitchen, this morning determined to end your run with the ‘MASSive MASS Protein Powder’. You filled yourself with as much food as possible to make sure you would have no protein powder cravings. Bacon, eggs, cereal, yoghurt, fruit, more bacon, more eggs; none of it seemed to be enough.
BUUUURRRRPPP! Your roar of a belch made you realise how awful you smelt. With your increasing size you stopped noticing that your body hair was thickening every morning too. Along with it came a permanent, sweaty stink. You lifted up your arm and sniffed your hairy pit in curiosity. Your nasty odour took your breath away. You really had become a giant, smelly beast of a man.
BUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPPP!!! Your burp felt like it completely emptied your stomach and worst of all, it reeked of that horrible protein powder. Now that you had got a whiff of that protein powder again, your mind was hooked on it. Your body knew that only it could end your insatiable hunger.
You gave in. You gave completely. You didn’t stop until the 2kg bottle of protein powder you bought was empty.
You didn’t know what to do after your feast. Your life had now become nothing but eating and going to the gym, and you had eaten your breakfast already. The only option then seemed to be the gym.
Despite your insecurity about your size and odour, the second you walked into the gym you felt at home. You lifted weights heavier than you had ever dreamed of lifting. Your rank odour soon filled the entire gym but you didn’t care. You just continued lifting weight after weight leaving behind your sticky sweat wherever you went.
After your mammoth workout you hit the showers. As the water rushed over your already soaked body you rested your back against the tiled wall and placed a hand on your belly. You swore you felt your stomach push out against your hand. Then you no longer had to guess, as you could feel your entire body swell up with mass. Belly, chest, arms, legs; they all expanded, encasing the last remnant of your old body in incredible bulk. You had probably at least tripled your old weight by now.
You got out of the shower and put on your once baggy shorts, which was the only thing that still fitted you (they didn’t really fit but it was the only clothing left you could manage to wear).
As you left the gym you caught sight of a familiar man. ‘2Good2B’ it said on his shirt. Huh. You felt like you had something important you wanted to say to this man. Something that felt charged with emotions, yet those emotions weren’t there to harness.
“Wow, look at the size of you!” The man said as he placed his hand on one of your huge arms. “I was going to offer you this ‘MASSive MASS Protein Powder’ but it looks like you might not need it.”
It felt good to have your size recognised and it made you finally feel proud of your humongous body. It feels good to be huge, in fact it’s all you ever dreamt of being. You read the description on the bottle: ‘Stimulates growth and guaranteed to significantly increase mass within a week’. That sounds too good to be true!
“I’ll take two!” You said with a beaming smile. “Even big boys like me need to keep growing!” BUUUUUURRRRRPPPPP!
Halloween: "Werewolf" ● Latino Cowboy ● Arab Prince ● Pumpkin Heads
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You had an amazing body, muscular, lean, you were tall and handsome and you loved it.
Everyone complimented you on your physique, inside and outside of the gym. But… something was missing, you weren’t… *Big* enough. And the longer you were thinking about it, the less you cared how you got bigger, you thought about steroids, HGH and all that stuff. But was it worth it? Was it really worth all the risks?
But one day after a workout late at night, someone tapped you on the back in the locker room…
He was tall and muscular… bigger than you and he looked perfect. “Hey bro, tell me… you wanna get bigger?”
You just snorted at first “Haha, sure man, don’t we all?”
But the other man didn’t laugh “I can make you bigger.”
And suddenly… you really grew bigger, he simply looked at you and your muscles were growing! What the hell?! You gained almost forty pounds of pure muscle In a matter of seconds! And when your shock and the growth subsided, you turned toward the man… but he was gone…
Days went by and you loved your bigger body… but…
The mystery man appeared again. “Still not big enough huh? You’ll see…”
While you were working out you started growing again… and bigger this time… much bigger.
That workout was amazing… your muscles burned and grew larger and larger… your size soon surpassing most pro bodybuilders… you couldn’t help but jerk off to your own Reflexion as soon as you got home…
But you wanted more. And days later the man appeared again… this time while you were just flexing in front of the gym mirror shirtless…
“Bigger huh? Alright… you’ll get bigger!” He grinned and you started growing again… but this time your stomach bulged outward alongside your muscles. You developed a bloated roidgut.
The mysterious man chuckled and snapped a picture of you… then disappeared again.
You were huge now… with a bulging roidgut and slowly everyday tasks were getting difficult… dressing was hard… your thighs rubbed together when you walked, nothing fit you… but still… it wasn’t enough. You were insatiable!
You prayed everyday that the mysterious man would appear again and make you grow more, but he didn’t came…
Until two weeks later when you already given up hope… he appeared again, and he was mad?
“Dammit you just can’t get enough can you?? I only appear when guys are desperate to get bigger and no matter how big I make you, you just summon me again! What the hell is wrong with you?? You want BIGGER? Fine! I’ll give you bigger!!”
He stared at you… no he glared at you, completely furious and you started growing again… only this time it was much faster and much more painful. Your muscles ballooned outwards, fighting each other for space on your quickly filling out frame…
You were monstrous, huge and bloated, your roidgut grew bigger alongside everything else, your face filled out with HGH, your legs grew so massive you had troubles just walking… you could only slowly waddle now, out of breath after a few steps of stairs. Your clothes ripped off your growing body, leaving you in a tight poser that showed off what else the mystery man had done to you… your entire manhood was shrinking… fast. You started panicking because somehow you were getting way too big… but you also absolutely loved it.
Your mind was overwhelmed because how could you love growing into a barely mobile behemoth of muscle??
But you did, you loved it. You craved more, and the man felt it… he was getting even angrier and the growth quickened… your muscles blew up with size, your traps swallowing your neck, your biceps bigger than your head, forearms as big as some people’s waists… shoulders broader than normal doorframes, legs bigger than treetrunks and a roidgut like a damn beachball.
When the growth finally stopped, the man was still angry “Hope it’s worth it you roided muscle blimp.”
And he was gone again… and this time he’d never return. He left you a mountain of muscle… barely able to move, completely overblown and full of roids.
You struggled to get out of the gym… waddling to your car, ignoring the stares. Your car was cramped, you could barely drive. And when you finally arrived at home, you looked into the mirror and you knew… there was no turning back, you did this to yourself with your greed of size, and now you had to live like this. Struggling with everything, every little task. You practically needed someone to help you with anything… better get to a dating website and find someone who loves huge muscles…
Jacob entered the Expo Hall from the connecting Hallway of the Hotel he was staying at. The biggest convention celebrating Chinese Culture was happening and Jacob just had to attend. Even though Jacob is white as day, he enjoyed all the foods, traditions, and more ever since he was a kid. After showing the online ticket to the receptionist he was already dashing to the first booth
The first booth that caught Jacob's eye was one with an interesting title.
"Get Closer with Chinese Culture..." Jacob read aloud.
The booth was run by a very old man that definitely looked Chinese. Rows of steamed dumplings, each on a napkin lined the table.
"Free Treat? Don't mind if I do! Thanks Old man!"
The old man doesn't say anything, he just nods. Jacob grabs a dumpling and consumes it within seconds. It had the perfect most amazing texture and the heat made it just feel like it was warming up the entire body perfectly.
"Mmmmm that tasted amazing!" Jacob exclaimed. He wanted to grab another, but he needed to be courteous to other expo goers.
Jacob walked away, excited to see what other booths there were. Meanwhile the old man smiled as he muttered something.
"很快,他就會像我們一樣…" (Soon, he will be like us...)
Jacob looked from his left and right as he walked, seeing whatever interested him. There was many booths about chinese culture he was already aware of, so he passed on them. It took a bit but he finally saw something that was new to him.
"Basketball in China" The Booth title read. Jacob was immediately intrigued and headed on over.
"Hello young man! Would you like to learn about the history of Basketball in China?" The enthusiastic young woman behind the booth asked.
Jacob responded with a gleeful yes and the woman started to explain. Jacob learned many things as the woman spoke and each detail made him quite excited.
"And that's about everything! You looked quite happy to learn about this stuff. Are you a basketball player?"
"Oh, no not really. I'm just a big fan of chinese culture yaknow?"
"Ah I see. Well this ball here was used in a championship game in China. Personally, I think just touching the ball used in a game can make you feel like you were really there!"
"Interesting thought. Let's give it a shot then. If you don't mind."
"Of course of course. Go ahead."
Jacob walked closer to the booth and put his right hand on the top of the basketball and closed his eyes. He imagined being on the court. Dodging the opposing team, making great plays, and shooting shots with a team. They were fun thoughts. Jacob never really cared about basketball before but this was different, he thinks. While Jacob kept imagining something was happening to his clothes. Something... magical.
The material in his clothes were changing. They were becoming... looser but also perfect for absorbing sweat. Jacob's pants were shortening, the hem riding up until they became shorts at around knee length. Jacob's shirt sleeves were retracting themselves into the main short part until they were like they never existed. The collar of the shirt widened as fabric disappeared allowing for a much bigger neck hole. The shirt became a tank top. Jacob's regular shoes that he wore everywhere were patched up and the material strengthened and turned into Nike's tennis shoes. For a finishing touch, the tank top and shorts turned a white color and an orange color fading in around the rim of the top and the hems of the shorts. Jacob was now wearing a basketball uniform.
When the transformation of his clothes finished, Jacob took his hand off the ball and opened his eyes. For a second he looked confused but then went back to normal
"Actually, I dunno why I said I don't play basketball. I play it all the time! Heck there's a reason why I brought my uniform!" Jacob proceeded to explain his history with the sport. Even talking about teammates he definitely didn't play with or know 5 minutes ago.
"Anyways there's more booths I need to go to. Thanks so much for explaining this stuff to a fellow basketball fan!" Jacob waved goodbye and so did the woman.
Jacob explored more booths. Though none made him experience more changes like the basketball booth. Jacob was having the time of his life. He couldn't stop absorbing all of what the booths had to offer. The number of them felt endless. When the fun was still at its peak, at the corner of Jacob's eye he saw something that made him ecstatic.
"Bodybuilding in China and Chinese Bodybuilders" The first word was all Jacob needed to dash on over to the booth.
The man behind the booth looked pretty bulky and was well equipped to discuss bodybuilding.
"Gosh, it's so cool that this booth exists! I'm a huge fan of bodybuilding." Jacob said to the man gleefully
"Glad to hear that. So, ready to learn then?"
"Mhm! You know it!" And so the booth owner began to explore the history of bodybuilding.
Bits and pieces of what the man was saying were already known to Jacob, but a lot of it was new to him. What was also new to Jacob was his body starting to grow and bulk. As time passed and the man continued to talk, Jacob's body got bigger all at once. Little by little, Jacob was gaining muscle and height. Thick, touching thighs. Big feet. Massive popping pecs. Wide lats and traps. Biceps like mountain peaks with equally big hands. A thicker neck. A bigger dick, and a bouncy bigger noticeable behind. Jacob's basketball uniform grew with him, letting his biceps not be constrained by any sleeves. By the time the bulky man was done, Jacob had completely transformed into a man with a bodybuilder physique.
"That's about it! It's nice to see a fellow bodybuilder interested in their culture in other parts of the world"
The new beefy Jacob didn't process what the man said for a second before realizing oh he was talking about him.
"Yupppp. Being a fan of China and being a bodybuilder is an interesting combo for sure." Jacob flexes one of his biceps and bounces his pecs.
Jacob and the man talk about routines and other workout related topics, before bidding farewell with another.
"That guy really gets me..." Jacob says as he starts looking for more booths.
A couple of hours past and the expo is about to close for the night. Jacob along the way even got stopped to ask for photos due to standing out so much. Jacob only had time for one more booth. His eyes landed on....
"What Its Like Being Chinese" Jacob knew this would be a good ending topic so he jogged to the booth.
"Hey there! I'm so interested in Chinese Culture! Please tell me what its like to be Chinese" Jacob excitedly told the booth runner.
"Ah, it is nice to see someone as big as yourself so interested in your culture. As you wish. Its hard to put into words... Hmm... How about you close your eyes and I describe it to you!"
"sure thing!" Jacob closed his eyes.
"Now... imagine a bustling busy and crowded city."
Jacob imagined that very thing. His mind filled in the blanks of what looked like a city in China. Many chinese people walking by.
"What's the first you think you would notice?"
"Definitely the heat. I read its hot over there..."
"Yes... Definitely" As the man said, Jacob's skin darkened a lil' gaining a small tan.
"Next... imagine a traditional house. What do you see?"
"Mmmm... My parents making something..."
"What do they look like."
"They look... Asian. Chinese."
"Good Good. What features stand out to you?"
"Probably the oval shaped eyes, the thicker eyebrows, the squarer jaws, the mildly plumper lips and my dad's hair..." In sync with his thoughts, Jacob's eyes thinned and became more oval shaped and his eyebrows got thicker. Jacob's jaw became more square along with his nose flattening and his lips plumping up. Jacob's hair also restyled itself into a more trendy modern asian haircut.
"Those are the standout features yes... Now imagine your parents speaking to you. In Chinese yes?"
"Yes. Fluent Chinese."
"Do you think they'd know English?"
"No... Don't think so..."
"Imagine responding back. What language would you use?"
"Chinese..."
"Would YOU know English?"
"……不,我不懂英語。" (..... No, I don't know English.)
"正確的。想像一下你的父母呼喚你的名字。你叫什麼名字?" (Correct. Imagine your parents call your name. What is your name?)
"我的名字是…………………………郭剛。我是一名自豪的中國移民。(My name is………………………………………………. Gang Guo. I am a proud Chinese immigrant.)
"剛睜開眼睛" (Open your eyes, Gang)
Gang Guo opened his eyes. The world felt new despite knowing he was in his 30's. A further cementation of this fact was a small amount of facial hair gathering near his mouth and chin. Chinese letters also appeared on his basketball uniform and the number 24 below it.
"你感覺如何?" (How do you feel?) The man asked the now chinese bodybuilder.
"我感覺……太好了!驚人的!我感覺重生了" (I feel… Great! Amazing! I feel reborn!) Gang spoke in triumph. He even got the urge to bounce his pecs.
"我很高興。很高興再次見到你,岡。" (I'm glad. It's so good to see you again, Gang.)
"同樣地。不過我該走了。世博會即將閉幕,我有一場比賽要參加。" (Likewise. I should get going though. The expo is about to close and I have a game to attend.)
The two chinese men bowed to each other and Gang exited the convention hall where he entered a very nice Subaru car. Gang drove his way to the nearby basketball court and parked it. There, Gang was met with a huge as hell crowd, ready to watch him specifically play some ball. Gang walked into the court, smirking. He was known for his basketball skills and he was gonna show off.
Gang's opponent was a rather well toned man. The size didn't matter though. He knew he was gonna dominate. Once Gang got the ball he bounced it all the way to the hoop. The thinner man didn't have a chance as he shot his shot, the ball perfectly landing in.
The crowd cheered as Gang raised his arms for another flex. The rest of the match was a curb stomp, but everyone involved had a good time. Gang thanked everyone for coming and headed back to the hotel where he was staying via another car drive. It didn't take too long before he was back in his own hotel room.
Gang didn't rest though. He opened up his suitcase and grabbed one thing only. A shiny light blue poser. Gang set the poser aside on the couch and then stripped himself of all his clothes letting his big dick dangle out. Said dick was sealed up when Gang slid the poser on. Gang had a competition soon and he needed to practice poses if he wanted to win first place. So, Gang retrieved his phone from his shorts pocket and set it up on the couch. Gang pressed record on his phone's camera app and started to practice his posing routine.
Once Gang was done practicing he went back to his phone and stopped the recording before playing it back. Safe to say, Gang was quite satisfied with what he was reviewing. Now it was actually time to sleep. Gang took his poser clean off and hopped into bed. Sleeping naked was his preferred way to rest. Tomorrow was gonna be a nice day at the gym...
Once morning hit, Gang's alarm on his phone went off and Gang sprang into action to get ready for the gym. After the morning routine he was in his car in a flash and headed to his favorite gym in the area. Today was a gym day like no other. A good pump all around. Good chest. good abs. Good everything. Gang was proud of his Chinese heritage and his physique and his hobbies. He smiled as Gang grabbed one of his pecs and give it a good jingle. This was the life to have. A life as a Chinese bodybuilder.
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