itsabank

“Hey man, is your sister ready? I’m her date tonight”

“Really, you look a little old to date her” ;)

“I’m… i’m not that much older then her”

“You kidding? your old enough to be our dad!… in fact, your’e old enough to be my daddy”

Andrew had just had a bad breakup. Like really bad. Like she had changed the locks on the apartment bad. Like she had thrown his stuff in the street bad. Like his car had a TV shaped dent on the roof bad.

And then at the end of it, sweet as sugar, she’d tossed down an envelope and said “Oh hey, here’s a little gift for you tho. I bought it for your birthday but you may as well use it.”

What would you have done? Andrew opened it. Inside was a gift certificate for some place called “Focus”. Probably a spa or something. Whatever.

After he got the TV off his car roof and his underwear in the trunk, he drove to his buddy Paul’s. Paul put him up, and told him that they’d go out that night. Find something fun to do…some new chick for him to hook up with. For now, Paul had to go to work, but they’d totally go out and get Andrew some ass later.

Andrew looked at his pile of stuff. And he looked at the second hand slowly counting off Paul’s workday. Yeah…he needed a distraction.

Like maybe that spa card.

Yeah, it would almost be like revenge. Relaxing on her dollar.

About half an hour later, Andrew was sitting in a nicely appointed office. It didn’t look too much like a spa, but whatever, lots of places looked generic. And he’d never really actually been to a spa before, so who knows what one was supposed to look like.

The receptionist ushered him into a room and told Andrew to have a seat. It was a conference room type deal, with about a half dozen chairs and a big mirror on one wall. Weird. Andrew wondered when he was going to get to change into a fluffy robe and get a massage or whatever.

A door opened at the far end of the room. Enough people filed in to fill all the chairs. Most of them were just regular looking men, of all ages and demografics. If they had anything in common…well, truth be told they looked a little faggy. But like…weren’t the guys who worked at a spa supposed to look like that?

One guy, sitting right next to Andrew, he had a clipboard and was wearing a lab coat.

“Hi Andrew,” Dr Labcoat said. “I’m going to ask you a few questions to help the room understand you, ok?”

“Sure thing…” Andrew said. Man this was a full service deal.

“What do you do for work Andrew?”

“Just retail stuff. I work at a kiosk in the mall selling cell phones.”

“And what do u do for fun?”

“Uh…” said Andrew. “Mostly I just hang out with my buddies. We watch a lot of sports and sometimes we hit the gym and get a good pump. I dunno…I used to like to hang with my girl, but she just dumped my ass….”

“Why did she do that Andrew?”

“I dunno! She said I was lazy and I never pitched in an i never cared about nothin’ or whatever…but I think it was really cuz I’m always lookin at other girls and she knows it…”

“Alright Andrew, I think that’s enough. Please sit quietly for a moment.” Said Dr. Labcoat. He turned to the rest of the table. “As you can see, we’ve got a fairly basic bro here. He’s undiferentiated. We’d like your advice on how to bring him up to spec. The gift certicficate he’s using asks only that he stops ogling women all the time. So of course we brought in this group.”

“This is a weird spa…” Andrew said.

“It’s not a spa, Andrew” said Dr Labcoat. “It’s a focus group. These men are going to help create a new you!”

“What?”

“Sit quietly Andrew.”

Andrew sat quietly. He didn’t want to…but there was something about the guy in the Labcoat. Something about the whole room that was bending his reality just a little bit…

“Let’s start with you,” Dr Labcoat pointed at guy somewhere in his mid-forties. Or maybe fifties. The guy was pretty built, and it was making it hard to guess his age.

“I think he needs more discipline in the gym,” said the guy who clearly had plenty himself. “He said he goes to the gym, but Andy doesn’t look like he lifts anything except a six pack of beers.”

“Alright,” Dr Labcoat said. “Let’s say that Andrew goes to the gym…three times a week? And that he lifts heavy and with good form well he’s there?”

“Make it five times” said the gym goer. “And he’ll have to pair that with discipline in the kitchen to get a really great body.”

“Okay, that’s done,” said Dr. Labcoat, marking it down on his clipboard. Andrew didn’t feel any different, but a moment later he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and…holy fuck. He had to have forty pounds of muscle on his frame that weren’t there when he walked in the door.

“Holy Fuck” Andrew said. “Okay…I’m cool with this. Keep it up guys…”

“By all means, lets keep it up” said Labcoat. “What do you suggest?” He asked pointing to a well dressed man in his thirties.

“Well, too be honest, he looks like he shops at the dollar store. I’d improve Andew by making him give a damn about fashion. Not suits and ties…hes too young for that, but he should care about looking good.”

So Andrew did. And when he glanced down the table at the mirror, he was almost shocked to see that his body wasn’t in a hoodie and jeans anymore, but in a perfectly fitted deep v-neck t. A glance down showed him trim slacks that cupped his ass nicely. And a pair of freshly shined brown shoes. Combined with his thick muscles, he looked ready to get laid. Andrew grinned at the changes

“And you,” said the doctor, pointing to a grizzled old biker. “What do you suggest?”

“You kno me boy,” said the biker. “I think he should have some tats. Nothin u can cover up with a shirt either.”

“Okay,” said Dr Labcoat, noting it down. Andrew stood up and moved toward the mirror, watching a colorful tat spread down up the right side of his neck and out his left sleeve. At first glance it looked like a Celtic design.

“How can you do all this?” Andrew asked?

“Oh, starting to ask questions,” said the next guy in line. He looked bookish…maybe like a college prof? “I suggest that Andrew has never really been dumb - he just acts like an oaf because society allows him to. I say that Andrew should really be dumb, used to not quite understanding the world around him.”

“Noted,” said the Labcoat guy. Andrew wasn’t sure what he was writin’ down, but who cared. He had a sweet bod, awesome tats, and he looks hot. Why worry about shit?“

Next Dr. Labcoat turned to this shy looking guy, maybe 22. “What do you suggest?” he asked.

“I think he should have green eyes…”

The whole table burst out laughing.

“What?!” Said the shy dude. “I mean like get-lost-in-them green. Like unnerving green eyes. It’s a thing for me ok?”

“Okay, got it,” said Dr Labcoat. Andrew started to notice that when he made eye contact with someone across the table, they had a hard time looking away from him.

“Do you know what goes great with green eyes?” Said the next guy when Andrew made eye contact with him. “Being Spanish. When I was backpacking thru Spain, it was always the green eyed guys who caught my attention.”

Dr. Labcoat made a note on his pad. Andrew walked toward the mirror again.

“No. But…you can’t just…” he looked at his mediterranean skin. His hair that was so dark brown it was almost black.

“Andrew, are you okay?” Asked Dr Labcoat.

“Andrés”, the Spanish hunk corrected absentmindedly.

“This just isn’t possible,” he said in a thick Spanish accent.

“We’ll continue then,” said the Doctor. “One more go around the table”

He pointed back at the gym afectionadio. “What do you suggest?”

“He’s starting to look pretty good to me. But he needs fuller lips. Real big DSLs.”

Andrés lips grew more pronounced. “What is dsl’s?” he asked.

“Stop thinking so much boy” said the college professor.

“Let’s stick to our turns” said Dr Labcoat. He turned to the well dressed man. “What do you suggest?”

“I like this Spanish thing, but I’d like it more if his hair grew out. He’d look like a fashion model with longer hair.”

The Doctor noted it down and Andrés hair grew down to his shoulders. Right now it was loose, but it looked long enough to tie up into a bun when he worked out.

“And you,” Dr. Labcoat turned to the biker. “What do you suggest?”

“Well…he’s hot as anything, he’s dumb as a rock, an he’s got tats…I have to say, I think this man needs to be gay as fuck”

Andrés looked closely on the mirror. He didn’t look any…gayer. But then he looked back at the gym rat and he felt his average cock start to inflate.

“Now, it’s actually your turn this time. What do you suggest,” Doctor Labcoat asked the college prof.

“I suggest that I can see him getting hard over all us at the table, but his bulge isn’t big enough. I think he should have a big cock, but just small enough that it’s not painful.”

Andrés long cock now pushed uncomfortably in his slacks. He was thick enough, and more than long enough to hit all the best places in any man he wanted. And tender, he knew instinctively, that he could gently open up a man for the first time.

“Done,” said Dr Labcoat. He turned to the shy guy and asked his question. “What do you suggest?”

“Well…he’s got the eyes that I could fall into forever… so could he have like a hypnotic voice. The kinda voice where when he talks you just can’t help but listen and maybe start to agree…”

The Doctor smiled and noted down the change. “Alright,” he said. “Andrés, how do you feel about that?”

“I think that maybe you want to kiss me, yes?” Said Andrés, looking at the shy young man with those clear green eyes.

“Y…yes, I do” said the young man.

“Not just yet,” said Doctor Labcoat. “We have one final piece of feedback.”

He turned to the backpacker. “What do you suggest?”

“Mmmmm…I feel like ‘Andrés’ should be a manipulative man. He should love using that body and that incredible voice to make other men his puppets…yeah, that’d be so hot to watch…”

The Doctor noted it down on his pad. “Ok… that’s everything” he said.

“Excuse me doctor” said Andrés softly, “I have just one small request. With all of your improvements, well, I think that maybe it is only fair that I get to make a suggestion too…”

“I’m sorry, that’s really not the procedure…”

“But is only fair doctor. I think you are a fair man, yes? A good man? Just one suggestion.”

The doctor seemed to struggle with the idea for a moment before coming around.

“And Andrés, the last call goes to you, what one thing would you want to improve about yourself?” asked the man in the lab coat.

Andrés looked around the room, noticing all the hard bulges and tented pants from the focus group. If you were into dudes, and he was VERY into dudes, it was easy to imagine any of them licking his thick cock, bending over to get pounded, or just worshipping his cut body…

“I think I need a harem” said Andrés

Matt and Logan were best of buds since childhood. It was 9:30pm on a Friday night and they were just chilling in Logan’s apartment watching the Food Network’s Chopped marathon - They both actually had a knack for cooking. Watching random TV shows had become a tradition between the two for a while now.

Matt was as straight – masculine, yet sensitive. He’d had girlfriends through high school but always preferred the simple life of being single. Now in college, he had met a girl named Hannah who he really hit it off with – and the two began dating two weeks prior.

Logan was gay – feminine, yet not stereotypical. Likewise, he’d had boyfriends in the past but really didn’t feel like being tied down to anyone. Sure he sounded gay and he sported the twink body type but he liked cooking steaks and sitting down for a good football game just like the next guy.

Sexuality was never an issue with the friendship. Logan wasn’t into Matt like that so everything was simple and easy.

During one of the commercial breaks the two best friends talked a range of topics: mutual friend drama, their college team sport stats, or maybe they just made fun of the people they saw on TV. Whatever the topic it would always be full of laughs.

Matt’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.

“Alright who’s this?” Matt complained as he went to go pick up his phone.

Matt stared at it for a moment – reading.

“Well, who is it?” Logan asked.

Almost in a whining tone, Matt answered Logan. “It’s Hannah she wants me to come home.”

“Aww that’s no fun,” Logan complained.

“Yea, but you know how women can be,” Matt said with a smirk on his face.

After a pause…

“Well, actually…”

Both guys cracked up laughing.

Eventually Logan told Matt that it was okay and that he was going to get to sleep soon anyway. Matt said his goodbye and was on his way home to Hannah.

Matt walked into his bedroom. Hannah was already in bed up reading. Matt threw his shirt off into the corner and slipped off his jeans. Matt had an athletic build with just the perfect amount of hair on his chest and abs. Matt always loved to flirt with his girl so he flexed his impressive biceps to her as she looked up from her book.

Hannah didn’t smile – she just stared.

“Where the hell were you?” she barked.

Matt snapped his head back and raised his eyebrows.

“Just at Logan’s that’s all!” Matt defended.

Hannah seemed to become more flustered.

“You’re always over there!” Hannah was just whining at this point.

Hannah had known all about Logan and how he was gay. Hannah had come from a more conservative household growing up and she’d never quite accepted gay people as equals and secretly she hated how her boyfriend hung out with one.

Matt jumped into bed and calmed Hannah with his famous back massages. Matt was very in-tune with others’ feelings and he didn’t want Hannah to be upset.

The next day while Matt ran errands Hannah was at home cleaning. She received a call from her father that afternoon. As far as parent phone calls go this one was pretty normal… ‘How are things, etc’

The topic of Matt came up and Hannah ended up venting to her father over the whole Logan time-consuming thing. Hannah told her father about how Logan was “a gay” who her boyfriend loved hanging out with for some god-awful reason.

Hannah’s father told her he had the power to fix that issue if Hannah wanted. Hannah asked her father what he meant by that. Hannah’s father began explaining…

“I can send you a special serum that will fix the way Matt thinks.”

Hannah cut her father off. “What do you mean… thinks?”

He continued. “If you can get Matt to drink something with this serum mixed in…”

Hannah again cut her father off. “You want me to poison him?!”

“No dear!” her father continued. “Don’t think of it like that. It’ll just help him be the conservative boyfriend you’ve always wanted.”

“Alright, go on.” Hannah was interested.

“The serum will replace his friendly feelings toward gay people and their behaviors and replace them with pure disgust and hatred. I doubt he’ll be able to tolerate that gay guy anymore. Plus, one of the side effects is his… well his penis might grow in size with all the new hormones.”

“Is that even possible?” Hannah asked.

“Certainly dear. It’ll take a little time to work but when it’s finished he’ll think homosexuals are the abomination they are,” her father boasted then added: “And if you don’t mind him getting a little bigger down there that might happen too.”

“He’s already more than fine in the size department dad but alright, I’ll take it,” Hannah said.

“I’ll have it shipped to you then.”

Early the following week Hannah received the package with the serum. She inspected it. It was a tablespoon amount of clear liquid secured in a tube.

At this point it was around 7:30 and Hannah knew her boyfriend Matt would probably be leaving for that gay Logan’s apartment. She better act fast if she wanted to stop it. She mixed the serum into a small glass of soda and took it to Matt in the living room where he was watching TV.

“Hey honey try this new brand of soda I found at the grocery store on sale - tell me if you like it,” she said as she handed it to him.

Matt took it and brought it up to his lips. He took a sip and said it tasted alright.

“Well don’t waste it!” Hannah ordered.

Matt chuckled and began gulping the contents of the glass… tilting it upward as he emptied it.

He let out a loud and refreshing breath when the glass was empty. Hannah took the glass from him.

Hannah remained standing there as if she was waiting for something. Nothing happened.

Matt had turned back to the TV. Hannah needed to know if anything changed so she brought up Logan.

“Weren’t you going to go over to Logan’s?” she asked.

Matt looked at his watch. “Yea I was actually about to head over – we’re going to make a filet mignon for the game haha.”

Hannah looked annoyed.

Matt had stood up and started gathering his things. “I’ll be back later sweetie.” Matt walked over to Hannah and planted a kiss on her lips then left for Logan’s.

Hannah remained standing there in a state of frustration. “Ughhh!” she grunted.

Hannah was so angry that she phoned her father. After the accusations flew her father reminded her that the serum was not instant. Hannah, sounded like an impatient child. She accepted the prospect of the delay and thanked her father again. She ended the phone call and sat down to watch a movie.

Logan opened his front door after hearing the scheduled knock. Matt greeted Logan with a smile.

“Hey man what’s up?”

They each smiled and nodded to each other then headed for the kitchen first. Logan showed Matt the uncooked steaks. Logan and Matt basically had a food orgasm when they talked about them – and the seasoning they were going to do. Matt’s thoughts shifted to the football game.

“Do you have the game on?” Matt asked.

“Not yet.”

“Shame on you Logan!” Matt just sort of said, with a hint of condescendence.

“Pshh, whatever – go turn it on!” Logan said angrily yet sarcastically back at Logan.

Matt was watching the game while Logan worked on the steaks. At one point there was uproar from the TV (and Matt) as a flag was thrown in the football game.

“Oh c’mon!” yelled Matt.

The referee came onto the field and announced the verdict and penalty. Logan had made his way into the living room too.

The ref spoke and Matt let out an unhappy noise. “GAYYY!” he yelled.

Logan, who was standing there, looked right at Matt and raised his eyebrows and wore the face of judgment.

Matt eventually looked at Logan. It took him a second to connect the dots…

“Oh sorry man! I didn’t mean to. I dunno why I said that,” Matt said genuinely.

Matt chuckled and opted to change the subject. “How are the steaks coming?”

Logan allowed his face to rest. “Ready to cook!”

“Sweet!” Matt announced as he stood up.

They were back in the kitchen now beginning to grill the steaks. Logan began telling Matt about some drama with another gay guy from the past weekend. The story took a couple minutes to tell and the steaks were almost finished cooking by the time Logan was finished with his story.

Matt began to become distracted by the sounds of the TV.

While Logan kept talking and cooking Matt was beginning to stand further away from him and closer to the living room.

Logan looked up and saw Matt – and how Matt was not paying attention to him.

“Are you ok?” Logan asked.

Matt replied with a quick ‘yea.’

Logan continued with his story but was cut off instantly by Matt.

“Hey, a, I – uhh- I don’t want to talk about gay stuff right now,” he said trying to sound nice. After an awkward moment of silence Matt added: “Sorry.”

Logan, who was caught off guard by that statement, just returned to the steaks, which were coming off the grill. Matt disappeared to the TV. Logan brought the steaks in on plates a moment later. Matt grabbed his without a word.

For the first time the two were sitting there not talking – just watching the game.

As they both ate their steaks Matt felt some discomfort in his crotch, like a movement of some kind. It was very subtle but it caused Matt to adjust his soft dick quite a bit while sitting there.

Another flag… another penalty…

“Fuckin Fag!” Matt blurted out at the TV.

Logan butted in. “Hey! Watch it!”

Matt seemed annoyed at both the TV and now Logan.

“Dude, chill. I wasn’t talking to you. That cock-sucker ref is a joke.”

Logan’s eyes widened more. “Are you sure you’re ok? You’re acting weird.”

Logan scooted closer to Matt on the couch and grabbed his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. “You can tell me if something’s wrong man.”

Matt snapped when they made contact. He brought his arm up and pushed Logan’s hand off his shoulder. “I said I’m fine now back off.”

Logan backed off – moving back to his side of the couch. “Ok, sorry!”

Another couple minutes of silence passed. All of the sudden Matt grabbed his head as he leaned forward in pain.

“Ahhhgh my head is killing me!”

Logan stood up and walked in front of Matt. Matt continued to rub his head and eyes.

Matt saw that Logan was right in front of him now.

“Get away from me fag!” Matt said, temporarily looking up.

Logan became angry. “What the fuck is wrong with you – acting like this?”

Matt was struggling with bouts of pain. He began grunting but came out of it briefly.

“I’m sorry Logan! I don’t know what’s going on. My mind feels jumbled. Can you get me some water?”

Logan went to the kitchen, leaving Matt on the couch. Logan was getting water and Matt continued to struggle physically in the living room. The strange feeling from his dick was becoming strong. Matt actually couldn’t take it anymore and opted to slip off his shorts right there in order to get an idea of what was happening. Matt was surprised that he was actually getting hard.

What had always been a 7-inch dick had now turned into more like 8 and a half. Matt couldn’t focus on his dick for long because the head pain was superseding it.

Logan returned with a glass of water… in shock to see Matt with no pants on – sitting on the couch.

“What are you doing?” Logan said as he walked up to Matt.

“Grrrghh, I don’t know Logan something’s wrong with me.” Matt struggled to say. Matt began to motion for the glass and he was about to grab it from Logan’s hand but he snapped out of nowhere and ended up pushing Logan’s arm away from him so strong that it made Logan drop the glass.

“Get away f-f-from me fag I’m not a f-f-fuckin’ queer like you.” Matt stuttered.

Ignoring the spilled water, Logan attempted to help Matt by grabbing him by the shoulders and making him focus.

“Listen to me, whatever is happening you have to fight it!”

It worked for a second. Matt’s eyes softened momentarily.

“I— I— I can’t. I can’t focus I cant-t-t you pathetic f-f-f-a….”

Matt was losing all of himself and he couldn’t stop it.

“Faggot!” he finished.

Matt grabbed Logan’s head and hair.

“You’re a sick fucking faggot.”

Logan was about to say something but Matt pulled Logan’s hair and pushed his head into his exposed crotch.

“You like this faggot?”

Matt had pushed Logan’s nose directly into his bush and rubbed his head around in a circle. The smell of musk was extreme.

“You’re a sick fuck, faggot,” Matt grunted.

“Lick it fag!”

Logan had no choice but to lick Matt’s balls. Logan felt Matt’s dick throbbing and it looked like his dick was expanding. Logan was shaking with fear.

Matt pushed Logan away with such force that he landed on the floor on his back. Matt stood up and began to absent-mindedly jack off while he looked at Logan on the floor.

Matt began to feel his dick ache for release so he accessed his mind to what turned him on. Matt began thinking of big boobs, and hot chicks. The sensitive nature that was once Matt seemed to now be overwritten by thoughts and images of being a macho alpha type of guy.

As Matt felt his first shot of cum travel up his now very thick 9-inch shaft, he looked down to a fearful Logan on the floor under him. As Matt shot his first load onto Logan’s face he thought about how pathetic Logan looked.

Another shot landed on Logan’s eyes and thoughts of pathetic fags and their rainbow theme made Matt feel hatred. Matt was grunting and jacking off hard now as shot after shot landed on Logan’s face and shoulders. He was becoming drenched.

“You piece of shit faggot!” Matt said as he finished cumming all over.

Logan was shaking on the ground in complete shock.

Matt grabbed his shorts and slipped them on over his still semi-hard cock.

As Matt exited through the front door he shouted back at Logan, “Stay the hell away from me faggot. If I see you again we’ll have problems.”

Robbie rolled over in bed to the sound of his blaring alarm. He pushed down a few times until his room fell silent and he kicked the duvet off his naked body. The bright sunlight made his body glow as he scratched at his unruly pubes before lifting his hand to face. A few sniffs and Robbie winced and sat up.

As he got out of bed his soft cock slapped against his thigh which was beginning to sprout dark hairs.

Robbie rubbed at his sleepy eyes as he entered the bathroom and immediately caught a whiff of the smell of piss and cum. The toilet bowl was open and un flushed and Robbie’s eyes widened at the sight of the cum stained shower curtain. He quickly sprung forward and flushed the toilet before wiping at the crusted cum. He turned on the water before heading back into his room and seeing the messy state of it.

His bag sat on the floor with books spilling out, his desk was cluttered and his bed looked as if it was rifled through. He crouched down and placed the books back into his bag and as he stood back up he wobbled and held onto the wall for support. His mind hurt again as if his headache was still with him. He stumbled into the bathroom which was full of steam and wiped the mirror to see his reflection.

To Robbie’s delight his acne ridden skin was smooth and tanned. He felt his jawline which was sprouting light brown hairs to find it was angular as was his nose and his green eyes looked wider to accommodate his bushy eyebrows. What surprised him next was his height. Robbie must’ve been 6 foot 4 as he was almost out of view in the mirror.

“Why is this happening to me?” he questioned suddenly realising all of his past changes. His train of thought was stopped by a loud burp that exploded from his mouth. Robbie chuckled dumbly forgetting why he was worried before turning off the shower water realising he was going to be late.

As Robbie entered his chaotic room he opened his wardrobe and looked dumbfounded at the sight. All of his shirts and trousers and black socks had been replaced with tank tops and gym shorts and long white socks. Robbie looked back over at his clock to see he was 10 minutes late and clearly didn’t have another option.

He took a blue tank top and pushed it down over his bulbous pecs and chiseled abs. Be smoothed down the thin fabric to see it clinging to every curve and muscle. His pecs were beginning to resemble Harry’s set except his were still much bigger. Robbie picked up a jockstrap and inspected it before pulling it over his hairy legs and meaty thighs. He pushed his cock into the pouch that cradled his balls too. He scratched as his public hair burst out of the top and formed a trail up towards his belly button. He then pulled up a pair of black lycra shorts that tightly hugged his thighs and perfectly contained his muscled ass.

After sliding his long white socks over his sweaty feet and tying the laces of his trainers he stood up and found himself flexing in the mirror. He turned his body and examined his muscular torso before rubbing at his thighs. “You can do this. No one will even notice. And shit, forget looking like Harry, i’m fucking worse than Harry. Since when was I such a jock?”.

“Yo bro nice look” Harry said as he stopped in the corridors to pat him on the shoulder.

“Thanks man” Robbie said grinning as he scratched at his pits.

“You know dude I need someone to come to the gym with me and I know you’ve got classes but I would really appreciate it,” Harry said looking deep with his baby blue eyes. Harry strengthened his grip on Robbie’s shoulder.

“Sorry man Id love to but I have maths now” Robbie said almost disappointed. “Why the fuck am I disappointed I can’t just leave school” he thought as he looked back at Harry.

“No worries bro. Anyways I know how much you need to get your grade back up” he joked as he playfully punched Robbie’s pec that rippled before strutting down the hall. Robbie couldn’t help but drool at the way Harry’s two globes pushed against his gym shorts as he left. Robbie wiped the drool from his thick lips and made his way to maths before he was late.

“Need to get my grade up” he thought as he entered the room and took a seat at the back.

He couldn’t help but let his legs take up the space beneath the desk as he felt his cock strain against his jockstrap. A wandering hand revealed it was damp with pre cum. Robbie couldn’t help but picture Harry’s ass again as his cock rose to full attention.

As the teacher started the class he quickly pushed down his cock. He could’ve sworn it felt fuller in his big hands. “Harry’s fault” he chuckled as he opened his notebook. “Maybe i’m bigger than 6 inches after all” he smiled. He wasn’t wrong.

The hour passed slowly and Robbie found himself pulling his head off the desk when the bell rang.

As the class filed out of the room he felt the teacher, Mr Jones ask him to stay.

Robbie stood in front of Mr Jones looking down at the 34 year old man. “Robbie I know maths isn’t your thing but I’m gonna need you to try and stay awake during our lessons okay?” he asked looking up into Robbie’s eyes. Robbie found himself studying Mr Jones’ body and blushing as he began to find the outline of his cock in his chinos. Robbie almost licked his lips before shaking his head and nodding, “Yeah sir sorry”.

“Thanks Robbie. And no more growing okay” the 6 foot man laughed as he turned and began to wipe his board clean.

“Growing?” Robbie replied as he found his eyes drawn to Mr Jones’ ass as it swayed in his chinos.

“Yeah growing,” Mr Jones smiled. “I thought 6 foot was tall but you must be what 6 foot 5, 6 foot 6” he asked smiling.

Robbie’s mind hurt again. “This fucking headache man” he mumbled. “Yeah i’m 6 foot 6” he said with the surprise of his voice breaking. He rubbed at his adams apple.

Mr Jones smiled and returned to his desk, “Sorry for distracting you Robbie get going to your next lesson”.

“Thanks sir,” Robbie said as he found his voice settling on a much deeper note than before. He cleared his throat and left the room.

Robbie was walking to science class when he saw Harry grabbing a drink from the water fountain.

“Yo man” Robbie said as he patted Harry on his broad back.

“Hey bro” Harry replied gleefully as he pulled him into a tight hug. As the two separated Harry’s mouth hung open.

“No way” Harry asked happily before looking Robbie up and down. “You’re taller than me man” he said laughing.

“No dude you’re taller i’m only 6 foot 6” he said. “That didn’t sound right” Robbie wondered before another playful punch from Harry knocked him from his senses.

“Only?!” Harry smirked. “Damn is this 6 foot 4 body not good enough for you,” Harry joked rubbing at his fat pecs.

Robbie couldn’t speak as he felt entranced by the way Harry outlined his juicy pecs. His cock made an obvious tent in his small jockstrap before he looked back up at Harry. “Huh?” he asked forgetting what harry had said.

“I said do you want to go to the gym now man,” Harry said whisking Robbie away from his science class.

“But we were just-“

“I went earlier I know. But these bad boys don’t come from nowhere” he said cockily as he flexed his big biceps at Robbie. His blonde bush of armpit hair creating a musky scent.

Robbie found himself laughing as he scratched at his thick brown hair, “What is happening?” he smiled to himself. He found himself funny he had to admit.

Harry ushered Robbie into the locker room. The strong stench of sweat filled Robbie’s mind as he found himself relaxing again. “Yo boys come have a look. Harry’s finally scored some dick,” one jock laughed. A group of more jocks appeared from the showers naked and dripping water as they laughed and approached them.

Harry laughed them off and showed Robbie a bench he could place his bag at.

“So have you guys done it yet?” one red head asked. His long floppy cock swaying in between his thick thighs. Robbie found himself staring again as he readjusted his own throbbing cock. “Or can I have the honour of being the first-“

“Connor knock it off. Robbie’s here for the gym okay” Harry said as he turned and looked up into Robbie’s confused eyes. “You okay Rob?” he asked rubbing Robbie’s large biceps. “Yeah man, yeah” Robbie answered trying to remember what the red head had just said. His mind was so foggy.

“Good” Harry chuckled. “No need to get changed your already dressed for it,” Harry said as he almost pushed Robbie into the gym.

“Wanna spot me dude” Harry said cheerfully.

“What did that guy say before-“

“Rob just relax okay. Fuck no wonder you’re so stressed all the time. Just close your eyes and breathe,” Harry instructed.

Robbie found himself following Harry and closed his mind as he inhaled. He opened his eyes to see Harry’s huge ass in his face as Robbie’s nose was practically touching the blonde dusting of hair. Harry let a huge fart rip as Robbie fell back and coughed. He wiped his mouth and thanked Harry as he helped him stand back up. Harry was laughing so hard and pointing at Robbie.

Robbie’s disgust left his mind like it was being pushed out as he joined in on the laughter. He almost didn’t recognise his own voice it was so deep.

“Feel better?” Harry asked as he calmed down.

“Much better” Robbie grinned as he followed Harry to the weights.

Harry lay on the bench and pushed his beefy arms up. The bar steadily rose up and down as Robbie held his hands above it. Robbie found himself wobbling forward and his fat bugle blocking Harry’s view.

“Don’t get too excited,” Harry laughed as he pushed Robbie back a bit. Robbie blushed and regained focus. “Since when was your bulge even that big?” Harry questioned as he finished his rep.

“What do you mean man?” Robbie wondered confused again. “Could this headache be any worse,” he thought as his head felt full and heavy.

“That fat cock” Harry laughed as he attempted to pull Robbie’s shorts down. Robbie caught Harry’s hands in his own large grip. “Okay man okay I won’t” Harry pleaded as Robbie laughed and released Harry’s hands. Harry quickly acted and pulled down Robbie’s shorts so they rested over his knees.

Harry erupted with laughter again. Robbie did too as he grabbed Harry into his arms and rubbed his blonde hair before letting him go. He pulled his shorts back up with great effort before adjusting his growing member. “Don’t be mad man i’m only letting the world see that beast” Harry said as he continued laughing. “I’m serious though bro that thing looks deadly” Harry said.

“I can’t help having a 10 inch cock” Robbie grinned before swinging his hips and letting his cock swing back and forth.

“Fair enough,” Harry smirked as he folded his arms. “But how about 11” he said quickly flashing his soft cock before pulling his shorts back up.

“But how?” Robbie said amazed.

“Can’t help it” Harry mocked before bending over and grabbing his water bottle.

“At least i’m not naked under there” Robbie chuckled as he took Harry’s bottle and took a swig.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it” Harry said before snatching the bottle back and gulping it down.

“Robbie took the bottle from Harry’s grip and chugged it down too. Water dribbling onto his sweaty tank top.

Harry took it back and laughed, “Okay bro that’s enough. Let’s head back”.

Robbie smiled before holding onto Harry’s shoulder as the two walked back to the locker room together.

“So quiet” Robbie said amazed as the locker room was empty.

“They have lessons now” Harry reasoned. “Cant believe you’re skipping bro. Unlike you,” Harry said peeling off his sweaty tank top and kicking off his shorts. “To be fair though maths and science were never your thing. Too hard” Harry explained as he tugged off his long white socks.

“I’m skipping?” Robbie asked filled with shame. “I should go”.

Harry caught Robbie’s thick arm. “You can’t leave without having a shower bro. And besides it doesn’t smell like you had one this morning,” Harry joked before standing fully naked.

Robbie felt his head again as it felt as if his brain was squeezing.

“Bad head man?” Harry asked concerned. Stepping closer.

“Yeah dude. I just can’t ever-“

“It’s okay” Harry said silencing Robbie.

Robbie clenched his eyes shut again as another wave of pain filled his mind.

“Come have a shower man it’ll help,” Harry explained pulling off Robbie’s tank top for him and slipping off Robbie’s shorts. Robbie finally concentrated again and kicked off his own socks. Harry took Robbie’s hands and pulled him into the shower.

“That one doesn’t work man. Only this one does” Harry said as he stood under the shower head.

“It’s okay i’ll wait for you,” Robbie grinned.

“No don’t be silly” Harry said pulling Robbie so their bodies pressed against each other under the shower head.

Harry faced the other way and let the water run down his back and slope down his big ass. Robbie’s cock was held right against Harry’s ass. He let the water run over his body and stretched his arms up to wash his pits. His body instinctively thrust forward as he stretched and Robbie gasped as his soft cock slipped in between Harry’s big fleshy mounds.

Harry chuckled and pushed back against Robbie. “It’s funny bro, feeling 10 inches makes it seem so much bigger than looking at it” Harry finally moved away and Robbie’s cock fell out of his ass crack.

Robbie stood in shock at what had just happened. What’s worse was the pre cum leaking down his cock.

“If I didn’t know better I would think you’re 12 inches not 10” he said looking suspiciously at Robbie.

“No dude i’m-“

“12 inches I know” Harry answered for him. He grabbed a towel and began to wipe his hair. His blonde locks sitting perfect upon his head. He then wiped his large arms and fat pecs before brushing at his abs and rubbing at his crotch.

Robbie didn’t know what to say. Eventually the water stopped and he took Harry’s towel from him and began to wipe down his own 6 foot 7 body.

Harry bent down and grabbed his shorts before pulling them up over his huge clean legs and round ass. His hole winking at Robbie before it was hidden. Harry stood up and put on his tank top and white socks.

Robbie snapped out of it and looked away from Harry. He tucked his 12 inch cock into the waistband of his stained jock and got dressed too.

“Don’t even think you need the gym man. You’re a fucking beast” Harry said looking at Robbie who towered over the school as he walked.

Robbie looked down at Harry and began to think of a reply.

“Don’t worry dude you should still come. Your great motivation,” Harry winked.

Robbie blushed and smiled.

“Anyways I gotta get home and study. That dumb maths quiz is coming up. Thanks for tutoring though. I kinda get trigonometry now”.

Robbie seemed to be processing, “But I didn’t-“

“Only joking Rob. Like i’m gonna ask you to tutor me” Harry said punching Robbie’s shoulder.

Robbie entered the library in a huff as he saw Harry sat waiting for him at the table. Harry quickly flashed him a smile. Robbie could’ve sworn the jock had licked his lips but Harry couldn’t have. He was straight after all.

Thankfully Robbie was the one who decided where he sat today so he sat in the chair opposite Harry. However Harry’s huge legs felt as if they were touching him under the table as they were so big.

Robbie began to pull his things out of his bag when he realised he had forgot a pen. “How could’ve I forgot a pen?” he thought. He rifled through his bag and had no luck.

“What’s up bro?” Harry said looking into Robbie’s eyes.

“Seriously, bro?” Robbie thought rolling his eyes. “It’s nothing I think I just forgot my pen”.

“Ah don’t worry man,” Harry smiled. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and placed it on the table. “There you go”.

“How could’ve I forgot my pen and Harry remember to bring one?” Robbie moaned. He quickly picked up the pen and opened his notebook. “So yesterday we looked at labelling a triangle and today I think we should look at some basic facts okay?”.

“Sounds good man” Harry said as he pulled a hot dog onto the table and began to unwrap the paper. Robbie looked at the greasy wrapped up meal with disgust and tried to focus on teaching Harry.

“Don’t mind me bro. I forgot to have breakfast”. Harry said as he stuffed his mouth with the hot dog. He sausage slid between his thick lips and the mustard and ketchup dribbled down his chin. He wiped his mouth and laughed.

The sight of food reminded Robbie he hadn’t eaten either. He held his stomach as it rumbled and continued to write.

“You want some?” Harry asked. Another bite gobbled up.

“Uh no thanks” Robbie said pulling his notebook further away from the mess Harry was creating.

“Seriously bro they’re so good. I bet you love sausage don’t you?” Harry smirked as he swallowed another piece. “Here just bite some”.

Robbie tried to ignore him but Harry continued to wave the sloppy mess in front of him. “He was hungry” he reasoned. Robbie couldn’t believe himself but he actually reached out and took a bite. The large sausage and bread filled his open mouth as the sauces smeared themselves on his lips. “It’s actually good” he thought as he swallowed.

“See bro I knew you’d like it,” Harry said as he finished the last piece and threw the paper on the floor. He licked the sauce off his fingers and let out a loud burp. A wave of his breath hit Robbie in the face as he tried to waft it away.

Before he knew what he was doing Robbie burped back. It wasn’t as loud or as long as Harry’s but Robbie never burped. Ever.

Harry burst into laughter and burped back. Robbie’s face flushed with shame as he went red. “Um sorry” was all he could say.

“Nah man don’t worry. Burpings natural. Better out than in” he chuckled dumbly.

Robbie weakly laughed and let a hand wonder to his cock. “Fuck” he thought as he found it hard again.

“You okay?” Harry asked looking suspiciously at Robbie.

“Yeah” Robbie said as his voice broke. “Yeah i’m fine” he said sounding like a 12 year old.

“You sound like my little brother bro” Harry laughed.

Robbie cleared his throat. “So about the triangle” Robbie was relieved as his voice returned to normal. “All triangles add to 160 degrees which means that-“

“160?” Harry interrupted.

“Am I going to be able to get any of this done with him always talking” Robbie groaned. “Yes 160 degrees”.

“Okay. I just could’ve sworn all triangles added to 180 is all” Harry looked deeply into Robbie’s eyes.

Robbie was taken aback with what Harry just said and went to correct him when he went red again. “You’re right?” he questioned. Rubbing his neck again as sweat began to collect. “But how could I forget that. That’s easy” Robbie said sounding defeated.

Harry got up and stood behind Robbie and put two hands on his shoulders, his face leaning close to Robbie’s. “Don’t beat yourself up man. It was only a little mistake”. Harry let a devilish grin slip before returning his face to normal and rubbing Robbie’s shoulders. “Anyway. It must be pretty hard to think with that thing” Harry chuckled he’s turning to Robbie’s erection. A tent clearly pitched in his black trousers.

Robbie grew even more embarrassed and went to speak. “It’s okay bro i’m only messing with you. It’s normal to get random hard ons. I’ve got one now” Harry chuckled dumbly . That was the last straw. Robbie rose from his seat causing Harry to step back and rushed out of the library. Harry watched as Robbie walked off and readjusted his cock in his tight lycra gym shorts.

Robbie locked himself in the last stall and began to sob. Why was he so horny? Why was he so dumb? Why was he so different? Robbie sat on the toilet with his head in his hands. He caught another whiff of himself and remembered the pungent smell of sweat and cum.

His hard cock pushed harder against the fabric of his trousers. His cock spewing some more pre cum into his underwear.

Frustrated, Robbie pulled down his trousers and wet underwear and clutched his cock. “What else can I do to stop being so horny” he thought as he began to jerk off. He furiously pulled his cock up and down as more and more pre cum soaked his hand. Like yesterday he could’ve sworn his cock looked bigger. Whether it was the bulbous head forming on the top or the shaft thickening he couldn’t put his finger on it. He tried to remember what his cock looked like but his head only hurt. He wiped tears from his eyes and he continues to jerk off. His whole body was sweaty now as he finally came. However this time his cum shot far onto the door of the stall door.

He hurriedly used toilet paper to clean up the mess as best he could and flushed the evidence.

Robbie stopped and panted as he sadly pulled his trousers up. He found more difficulty as he crammed his cock and drained balls into his underwear. If he had known any better he would’ve guessed his cock was 6 inches now, not 4.

Robbie decided to leave the stall and splash some cold water on his face. His body was still radiating heat. He noticed in the mirror his white t-shirt clung to his upper chest and arms a little more. They weren’t so loose. His mind flared up again as he took some deep breaths and left the bathroom.

Robbie had spent ages in the bathroom and was late for science. He shamefully entered the room and took his seat at the front. The teacher shaking her head. The hour lesson passed slowly for Robbie. After only being sat down for a few minutes his cock had hardened again and his bulge looked more obvious. When the teacher called on him for an answer he froze. He sat there and stuttered while the rest of the class laughed at him. “It’s okay Robbie” the teacher said as she picked on another person instead. Tears welled up in his brown eyes. “What’s happening to me?” he wondered.

He had even found the girl next to him had moved her chair further away. Robbie figured it was the smell that clouded him but when he looked he saw that he was manspreading. His trousers which looked tighter than normal that stretched across his thighs tilted away from him. “Fuck i’m acting like an arrogant jock” he groaned as he put his legs together. His solid bulge had other ideas and a few seconds later his legs spread again. Robbie couldn’t leave the room fast enough when the bell rang. He hurried out of the room, pulling his underwear down which had seemed to ride up his legs even more.

Robbie sat alone in the cafeteria. He didn’t think he had much of an appetite but he had scoffed his meal down in a few minutes. The pizza was his favourite part he had to admit despite the strange looks he received when he hungrily gobbled it up. He didn’t even notice the shining grease that wet his chin.

Across the cafeteria his eyes met Harry’s who was stood in the line. Harry fist bumped his bros and left the line smiling, walking towards Robbie. Robbie began to sweat even more now as his white t-shirt developed some stains. “Yo Rob how are you? I haven’t seen you since you ran off earlier. You okay man?” Harry asked as he squashed down next to him. A large hand on Robbie’s back.

Robbie wanted to say that he was okay and remain cool but he began to sob, “I don’t know Harry. I mean i’ve been feeling so different lately”. Harry rubbed at Robbie’s back and shushed him quietly.

“Rob listen, listen. What do you mean different?”.

Robbie couldn’t believe he was telling Harry this but it just kind of came out, “I just feel so dumb! And-“ Robbie went red again.

“I’ve been so horny all the time”. Robbie looked down at his empty plate and let the tears fall down his face.

Harry looked sympathetic and put one huge arm around Robbie and the other hand on Robbie’s thigh. “Look man. It’s normal to forget things every now or then and to be horny. You’re a man after all dude”.

“Really?” Robbie asked looking into Harry’s eyes.

“Of course bro” Harry smiled and patted Robbie’s thigh. “And hey have you been working out? Your legs feel great Rob” Harry said as he began to move his tanned hand up and down Robbie’s thigh and his other hand rubbed Robbie’s arms.

“No” Robbie said as he wiped his tears.

“Well if you ever do wanna develop these bad boys the offers still open to come to the gym with me. I’m heading there right now if you want to come?” Harry said smiling.

Robbie’s mind debated what he was saying. “Why am I even considering going to the gym with him, I hate working out? But I don’t know, Robbie’s being really nice to me”. Robbie shook his head. “Sorry man. I mean Harry. I’m not gonna go”.

“No worries Rob. And hey don’t worry about calling me man. I call you man”.

Robbie laughed a little. “Okay man thanks”.

“And dude?”

“Yeah?”

Harry turned away from Robbie, pulled down his gym shorts and farted. Robbie’s open mouth filled with the smell and an added layer of what smelt like sweat and cum. He coughed and rubbed his nose as Harry covered up his muscled ass back up and laughed. The whole cafeteria laughed and Robbie wanted to die with embarrassment but he had to admit it was kind of funny. Robbie found himself joining in with the laughter as he playfully slapped Harry’s bicep that was practically bursting out of his top.

“See you man” Harry smiled as he walked away from Robbie.

For some reason, Robbie was feeling better. His mind still hurt a lot and he figured his must’ve had a headache. “That’s probably why i’m acting so weirdly” he guessed. But overall he didn’t feel so embarrassed. “Harry’s right,” he thought. “Everyone forgets stuff every now and then and it’s not my fault my cocks always hard”. He readjusted his boner in his underwear . “I am a man after all”.

Robbie decided to head home.

Robbie’s mother was working again when he entered his house. He headed upstairs and began to strip off. He was boiling.

He threw his bag down and the floor and as he undressed he dropped his clothes onto the floor in a stinking pile. Robbie sat naked on his bed as he rested his hands behind his head and sighed. “Schools super tiring” he thought. The more he sat in this position the more he could smell his stinking armpits. The hairs looked even more dense under his arm now too.

The more he examined his body, the more hairier he look. His usually neat pubes were growing out of control and a trail of hair rose up to meet his belly button. He felt his chest as well to see a light dusting of brown hairs. As he felt his body his hand grazed past his ass. He was curious to see if it was hairy too so raised his legs and felt it. To his surprise his cheeks were fluffy with brown hairs and as his fingers explored further into his crack he felt the crevice was dense with fur.

He pulled out a stinking finger and sniffed it. He chuckled at the gross smell before stopping himself. “I’m actually starting to like Harry now” he thought. “But i’m not a jock. I need to focus on my grades so I can get into college”.

He quickly got up from his bed and went into the bathroom. He turned on the hot water to cure his smell before realising he was bursting to piss. He quickly flung open the toilet seat and aimed his thick cock into the bowl. Piss flowed out as he found his cock wobbling. He watched as his veins became a little more defined. “Fuck not now” he thought as his cock continued to harden. His dream of piss waved around the toilet as some splashed onto the seat and some on the floor.

He was distracted with the shower and left the piss and un flushed toilet.

As the hot water calmed his body, Robbie squirted another dollop of body wash onto his hands. He exhaled as he rubbed the soap water around his body. “Huh maybe Harry was right. My legs do look a little bigger” Harry mumbled as he lathered up his thighs. He then rubbed down his arms to find them a little bigger too. After what had been happening recently he was apprehensive to touch his cock but he had to clean it.

He began to rub the soap across his cock and under his balls before he found himself as hard as a rock again. He couldn’t help but play with himself. Especially as it seemed that his cock was bigger. Robbie’s cock looked almost twice as girthy and his cock was now grazing the shower curtain. Was it longer?

He jerked off quicker now growing even more horny at the sight of his big cock. The head of his cock was resembling a mushroom now. After minutes of tugging on his cock and caressing his body he came. A thick load of cum splashed onto the shower curtains again.

In a calmed daze, Robbie turned off the shower and left the bathroom - forgetting to clean.

Robbie grabbed a towel and dried his soaking, hairy body before looking at himself more in the mirror.

“Why am I so comfortable with jerking off now. And why am I fine with knowing my cocks grown and my body’s bigger? It’s hairy too! This isn’t who I am” Robbie panicked.

As he moved his head hurt even more and he fell to his knees. His brain dulled as he remembered what Harry had said. “This is normal. Your body can still change when you’re 18. You’re still technically a teenager,” Robbie reasoned as he relaxed.

Instead of his usual pyjamas Robbie crawled into bed naked.

Robbie was heading towards the principals office. He was your average nerd standing at 5 foot 9 with black hair and brown eyes. He wore glasses and his face had several spots. He had a slim body to complete this stereotype.

As he entered the office he saw Harry. Harry was an infamous jock. He was around 6 foot 2 with blonde hair and bold green eyes. He had a muscular and smooth body.

“Thank you for coming Robbie,” the principal said as Robbie took a seat next to Harry in front of her desk. He noticed Harry spreading his large thighs so much they were grazing his own thin legs. The principal continued, “So Harry do you think a tutor would help your grades?”.

Robbie realised why he had been called here. “At least i’m not in trouble,” he thought. “And this will look good on a college application actually”. Robbie seemed more happy to be there now.

“Yeah it would,” Harry said as he looked into Robbie’s eyes with his own green orbs.

“Well Robbie if you don’t mind helping Harry with his assignments and his studies, I think we’re all good”.

“Sure i’m happy to help,” Robbie said.

“Perfect. Why don’t you to head to the library and start there,” the principal encouraged as she returned to her computer and carried on typing.

Harry got up and left the office with Robbie walking alongside him.

Feeling awkward Robbie asked, “So what subjects do you think we should start with?”.

“What are you smartest at?” Harry directly asked.

“Uhm probably maths or science I guess,” Robbie replied caught off guard.

“Perfect let’s start there,” Harry said as he smiled back at Robbie and entered the library.

The two found a table towards the corner of the room. Robbie sat down expecting Harry to sit opposite but Harry sat right next to him. Harry’s, bulging tanned biceps which seemed to be bursting out of his t-shirt rubbing against Robbie’s small covered arms.

Robbie brushed it off, “Do you have any paper we can use to start”.

“No” Harry said plainly, still looking into Robbie’s eyes.

“Okay you can use mine,” Robbie said as he weakly smiled. “A pen?”.

“No” Harry said, still looking into Robbie’s eyes.

Robbie pulled a pen out of his bag too. “Okay so let’s start with maths. Have you done trigonometry before?”.

“Yeah but I don’t get it” Harry answered.

“Okay let’s do this now then,” Robbie said as he used the paper and drew a right-angled triangle.

“What kind of triangle is this?” Robbie asked pointing to his drawing.

“No clue,” Harry said.

“Okay that’s fine. This is a right-angled triangle”.

“Right-angled triangle,” Harry repeated.

“Yep” Robbie said as he put the pen in Harry’s hand. “Now if I asked you to label these sides as the opposite, the adjacent or the hypotenuse which side would you label which?”.

“I don’t know” Harry said as he looked at Robbie’s lips and the back at his eyes.

“Okay well the hypotenuse is easy as it’s always the slanted side here,” Robbie explained as he wrote a letter h next to the slanted side of his drawing.

“Okay,” Harry said as he finally broke his stare away from Robbie and down at the paper.

As Harry turned a waft of sweat hit Robbie as he felt himself breathing it in. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead as he wiped it off and fanned at his neck. “The library is boiling”, he thought. Robbie tried to remain calm and carried on.

“Now the opposite is also easy as it’s the side opposite the angle,” Robbie said. “Can you draw the letter o where you think it should go?”.

Harry stared dumbly at the paper before looking back at Robbie. The silence was broken as Harry lifted his meaty thighs up and let a long fart blow from the crevice of his gym shorts. He laughed dumbly.

Robbie coughed and turned away as the stench hit his nose. He wiped another bead of sweat from his forehead and returned to the paper.

“Like I said, what’s side is the opposite,” Robbie continued trying to ignore the annoying jock. However it was becoming difficult as for some reason his cock was stirring in his underwear.

“I don’t know” Harry said as he finally finished laughing.

“How dumb is he?” Robbie thought as he unknowingly adjusted his trousers and drew the letter o for Harry. “See here”.

“Ohhhh cool” Harry said, pretending to care as he ran a hand through his blonde locks. His tight t-shirt rode up his beefy arms exposing a bush of armpit hair. The blonde tangled strands released another wave of sweat that immediately hit Robbie’s face due to the boy’s height difference. Robbie couldn’t help but inhale it as he spluttered and more sweat collected on his head and neck.

Rubbing at his neck he couldn’t stand the heat anymore and pulled his knitted jumper off leaving him in a white shirt covered in sweat stains.

“You okay bro?” Harry asked smirking.

Robbie hated being called bro. “Yeah fine” he said clearly irritated.

“Okay man. It’s just your shirt is covered in sweat. You sure you’re okay?” Harry said as he placed a tanned hand on Robbie’s arm trying his best to conceal his smirk.

Robbie blushed at his comment and quickly changed the subject.

“Okay let’s just finish this quick” Robbie said quickly as he filled in the last side for Harry. “And there, that’s the labelling for a right angled triangle”. As he finished talking the bell for lunch ran. “Really? I could’ve covered way more of the topic than that if he wasn’t such a gross jock” Robbie thought as he stood up and collected his things.

“See you here tomorrow,” Harry said smiling with his perfect teeth. “And Rob you should totally hit the gym up with me. I’m going right now if you want to come?”.

Robbie couldn’t think of anything worse. “I’m good thanks,” he said as he put his backpack on.

“No worries dude. Maybe next time,” Harry said as he patted his large hands on Robbie’s back before walking away, high-fiving a fellow jock as he left the library.

Robbie could smell himself now and reasoned he should head back home.

Robbie lived with his single mother who was always working meaning he had the house alone to himself a lot of the time. Robbie entered his home and trudged upstairs. He put his bag neatly next to his desk and started to undress. He placed his sweaty shirt onto his bed along with his black trousers. He then peeled off his black socks and his white underwear which were also sticky with sweat before placing them in the laundry basket.

He walked into his bathroom and turned on the water of the shower before looking back in the mirror. He lifted up an arm and sniffed. “Jesus I do stink” he mumbled as he put his arm back down. Something caught his eye causing him to lift his arm back up where he saw his armpit hair. He regularly groomed his armpit hair but for some reason today it looked longer and thicker than normal. “That’s weird” he thought as he had only shaved on Saturday and it was Tuesday. He happily found the shower was at the right temperature before stepping in and pulling the curtain.

Standing under the shower head Robbie let the hot water run down his pale frame. He squeezed a dollop of body wash into his small palm as he began to rub it all over his body carefully. Lastly he stopped at his cock. When he touched it he found it felt different than normal. He knew he would be wet from the shower but this felt sticky. He lifted his finger to see some clear ooze on the end of it. “That looks like pre cum” he said to himself. “Well it can’t be because I don’t ever pre cum”.

His cock quickly proved him wrong when he went to clean it as another dribble of pre cum clung to his piss slit. Robbie looked in disgust as he went to avoid his cock all together. “I can’t not wash it” he sighed as he reluctantly soaped up the shaft of his cock and rubbed the suds along his balls. A moan escaped his mouth as he felt himself spurt more pre cum in response to his touch.

He quickly caught his mouth and but his right hand stayed gripped to his cock. It was like he couldn’t move it. He panicked as it started to harden in his hand. He never liked touching his cock or the thought of masturbating but for some reason it was so sensitive.

Curious, he tugged on his cock and fireworks exploded in his mind. He couldn’t stop now. As the water ran down his body, Robbie kept playing with his cock. Pulling his foreskin up and down he picked up the pace. His mind was chaos as he felt his cock finish hardening to its 4 inches. He wanted to stop, he knew he should’ve stopped but he couldn’t. Minutes later he felt his balls tighten as cum sprayed onto the shower curtain.

Once he had slowed his breath back to normal the fear set in. He had just jerked off. For the first time ever. And for some reason he had liked it. “Stop it’s gross” he reminded himself as he splashed some water onto the shower curtain and watched the evidence swirl down the plug.

Stepping out, his cock had softened again when he reached for a towel. He dried his short brown hair before rubbing the towel along his arms and torso before rubbing it at his thighs.

As he reentered his room he froze, “Why had I left school?!” he muttered. It was lunch he still had another two hours of lessons and he was home jerking off! He quickly threw on a clean pair of white underwear and black trousers and a clean white shirt when he stopped. “So what I missed school,” he thought. He glowed with shame at what he had just said.

Another thought flooded his mind. “It’s already the start of last lesson now and by the time I walk back over there it will be over”. He calmed and grew happy with this explanation. “If anyone asks i’ll just say I was sick,” he planned as he tried to relax. In the back of his mind he was anxious: he never broke the rules. Robbie swiftly abandoned those thoughts and let himself relax.

Robbie awoke the next morning to sunlight pouring through his windows. Robbie rolled over in his bed onto his side to look at his clock. As he did he stifled a moan as he felt his cock which was rock hard push into his mattress. A sticky ooze stained his sheets. “What the hell?” he said to himself. He often had morning wood which he learned how to ignore but not a wet dream. He had never had a wet dream.

The clock said 6:57 when he glanced at it. He needed to get up at 7. Temptation filled Robbie as he felt his cock. He moaned again only louder as he felt his hand sticky with cum. Waiting for a few seconds he hoped it would subside but his cock stayed hard. Sighing angrily he wanted to just pull himself out of bed and get ready for school. But one part of his mind wouldn’t shut up. “It’s only natural” he thought. “Yeah it’s only natural and it won’t go down otherwise” he carried on thinking.

Rolling his eyes, like the day before he began to jerk off. His cock slipped due to all of the cum and squelched in his palm. For some reason it felt a little fuller in his grip than yesterday but he chalked it up to all of the cum sticking to him. Panting and sweating he finally blew his load all over his smooth chest.

Breathing heavily, he looked back at the clock which read 7:16. “Shit,” he whispered as he jumped out of bed letting his softening cock slap his thigh. He headed for his clothes which were folded neatly on his chair before realising he was covered in cum. “Fuck” he groaned as he couldn’t shower as he didn’t have enough time. Frantically, he reached for his pair of dirty underwear from the laundry basket and wiped off the cum. He didn’t look when he tossed them back into the basket for them to only miss.

He quickly buttoned up his shirt and belted his trousers. After slipping on his socks and shoes he grabbed his backpack and left the house.

It was only when he was half way to school he realised he had not put deodorant on. “Please don’t smell” he said as he sniffed his shirt. He winced as a stench of cum and sweat hit him. He didn’t have to time to turn back and put some on. Right on cue his stomach rumbled. “I didn’t eat breakfast either,” Robbie sighed. “And I have to tutor Harry again,” he dreaded.

Dylan rushed through the narrow, poorly lit alleys. He could swear that they looked even scarier and more intimidating than during his trek a couple days ago, as if the corruption originating from the place that changed him had spread even further and was now affecting this whole region of the city. As if he’d been transported to some alternate reality straight out of a perverted wet dream, one where it was perfectly normal to run into half-naked men stroking their massive cocks as they ogled passing strangers and invited them to have a taste.

Dylan did his best to ignore them, not even looking in their direction or listening to whatever they had to say, and yet his cock still throbbed painfully hard as he left them behind. He couldn’t even keep track of how many loads he’d spilled that evening at the club, and yet he was still so unimaginably horny. He could barely keep his mind from wandering back to all those hungry mouths and sloppy holes he’d stuck his fuckstick into today. A part of him felt sick knowing that all those people were like him, losing their own battles against whatever was happening to everyone here, but at the same time it wasn’t like they looked like they didn’t enjoy it. Every now and then Dylan could see some conflict in their eyes, but most of the time they were all too happy to fuck and be fucked like the horny perverts they were. Yeah… spitroasting Troy alongside his boyfriend was hot as fuck… they’d turned Max, that burly bouncer everyone was scared of even before into another chub, but at least they’d kept his alpha personality intact, making him eager to plow about anything that moved, including his lover’s needy hole.

Dylan suddenly gasped as he opened his eyes and found himself leaning with his back against the wall and beating off furiously. So freaked out by the realization of how close he’d come to losing it again, and how difficult it was to bring himself to release his erect, throbbing member from his grasp this time around. Especially so as he noticed two of probably the most muscular men he’d ever seen in his life crawling towards him, all naked except for leather pup hoods on their faces and tail buttplugs sticking out from between their bulbous, perfectly smooth asscheeks. Even as he bolted past them, the temptation to turn around and replace each one of them with his throbbing, leaking cock remained.

As much as he tried to focus his thoughts on what really mattered, getting rid of that ring, turning back to normal, apologizing to Zack, Dylan couldn’t stop them from wandering back to what he’d seen in Steve’s club, to all the things he’d done there, all the things that still had only remained in his imagination he had left to do. Fortunately, just as he was starting to think about turning around and getting back there, Dylan took a look around and realized he recognized where he was. The piercing studio wasn’t far away, he only had to turn a few more corners and he would already be there. Sure enough, he was right. He recognized the man standing by the entrance as well, he’d changed only a little bit, having gotten a few more tattoos and piercings, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t scare Dylan anymore as he confidently walked past him, it didn’t seem like he was planning on stopping him either.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here this quickly, boy. Back for another one?”

A deep, masculine voice called out to him as soon as he got inside, and Dylan turned his head to see a hulking mountain of muscles covered with ginger fur sitting by the piercing chair. He remembered that man from his last visit. He hadn’t changed one bit, still looking so freakishly huge he dwarfed all the other leather bears he’d seen so far, with those massive septum and nipple rings that somehow didn’t look that far off from the one Dylan had hanging from his chest now.

Dylan took a cursory look around. The place was full of people just like the last time around, and he even recognized some of them. There was that pipe smoking grandpa in a full-body rubber suit, except now he had a septum ring of his own, and a long, perfectly white beard that cascaded all the way down onto his round, protruding belly, contrasting so much with the jet black color of his suit. Not to mention the even larger bulge swinging between his legs. He was so busy rubbing it with his gloved hands and moaning at the top of his lungs, it seemed like he didn’t even notice Dylan coming inside.

On the other hand, those two, hairless, muscular subs who were tattooed from head to toes had their eyes on Dylan right away. He remembered how freaked out he’d been to discover just how much of their skin was covered by ink the last time around, and how difficult it had been to resist the temptation to bend each one of them over and give them a long, hard fucking without holding back at all. Things didn’t go much different this time around, it was as if those symbols on their skin had some special power to them. Just like that engraved ring on top of Steve’s massive cock. Dylan had seen even the biggest, most alpha looking men falling to their knees before him, begging him to let them have a taste, he‘d felt it himself too and had done his best to keep his distance.

Dylan was left completely speechless as he felt his cock throbbing harder and harder, his head filling with the most perverted ideas of how he could give those two horny sluts the fucking they both deserved… fuck… no… that wasn’t what he was here for…Dylan groaned and shook his head, immediately looking away. He heard an amused laugh and saw that huge, red bearded man stand up and slowly walk towards him. Dylan couldn’t stop his eyes wandering between his enormous, leather-bound legs and staring at the fat, pierced sausage flopping around between them. One leg of his chaps was covered with a huge stain of still partially wet cum. It was clear that he’d shot his load not very long ago, and yet his cock was back at full mast again after taking only those few steps towards Dylan. It was so long and thick that even Steve’s monster couldn’t compare, let alone his own. Dylan didn’t as much as flinch when the man got so close he grabbed both of their cocks inside his huge, furry paw right next to each other.

“You’ve gotten a lot hotter since the last time I saw you, but I think you still have some growing up to do…”

Dylan instantly moaned and nearly came on the spot when he felt the man tightening his grip around his meat, squeezing both of their rock-hard members together, except his was so much bigger. That man was so enormous, so hairy, smelling of such thick, manly musk that compared to him, Dylan almost felt like that twink he’d been a week ago. It was as if he could do whatever he wanted with him as he explored his body with his spare hand, running his meaty fingers through his beard and chest hair. Toying with his right nipple and telling Dylan how hot he was going to look once he got that one pierced as well, while Dylan found himself so overwhelmed with pleasure that all he could do was moan while he barely kept himself on his feet. Cluelessly nodding his head, almost ready to actually beg him to do it… almost…

“Shut the fuck up! You know that isn’t the reason I came here! Tell me what you’ve done to me and turn me back to normal right fucking now!”

Dylan growled, snapping out of it, and shoved the man away as hard as he could. It only amounted to a few inches, but the man looked clearly impressed.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll tell you everything you want to know boy…”

Dylan watched the man’s bearded mouth twisting into a sinister grin as he gave a faint nod with his head. Immediately Dylan sensed some movement behind him. He didn’t even get to fully turn around before his arms were grabbed by two enormous, hunched over brutish men who had such incredibly thick, muscular and furry arms they looked more gorilla than human. They were so insanely strong that no matter how hard Dylan tried to struggle against their grasp, it still seemed like they couldn’t even feel it.

The red-haired owner of the shop gestured towards the piercing chair and Dylan found himself being dragged there without them even saying a word other than an unintelligible grunt. They effortlessly held him in place as the owner secured a number of leather belts around his arms. Dylan could instantly tell that in some way they were special too, covered with the strange markings he’d seen everywhere else. If they’d been any regular leather straps, maybe he could have somehow yanked his arms out of them, but no matter how much he struggled, they remained firmly in place as if he had bars made out of solid steel wrapped around them.

Dylan desperately looked around, hoping he might find someone who could set him free, but most of his view was obscured by the two men who’d dragged him there. They really looked like two wild beasts. Dylan thought he’d seen some tattoos on their bodies when they were up close, but they were covered with a pelt of fur so dense, he couldn’t quite tell for sure. What he could confirm, however, were those absolutely gigantic rings they both had hanging from their pecs, so huge he normally wouldn’t have believed they even made ones that size. The first one must have been older, with salt and pepper fur and a beard all the way to his belt, while the second looked a bit younger, but not even a tiny bit smaller with dark blonde fur. Dylan was starting to feel so hopeless he was ready to try begging even them for help, but they appeared to be far more interested in each other as they both grunted and stroked their fat, leaking cocks. Although as he stared at their faces, Dylan was shocked to discover that the younger beastman looked almost familiar, his features were warped beyond belief, but he still couldn’t rid himself of that feeling in his gut…

“Someone you used to know? I think he said his name was Mack… when they brought him here earlier today he was sobbing even harder than you did last week. All his begging to let him go really pissed me off so I think I might have gone a bit overboard… Not sure he really deserved this. That second one on the other hand sure did… he was a friend of my uncle, he told me he could help me, that he could break this curse… but does this look like a fucking curse to you?”

Dylan had no idea what to say. Any other time he would have thought that someone saying something like that was absolute crazy, but after what he’d seen, he had no other choice but to believe all of it, including the fact that one of his friends had been turned into this terrifying beast. All he could do was keep on listening as that man kept on showing off his inhumanely huge, bearish body and stroked his cock.

“In all fairness, I was the one who came to him first, but that man wasn’t really me. He was so weak and pathetic. I am so glad he found that old book while going through everything his uncle left him in his will and decided that some of those glyphs from inside it would look cool as tattoos and engraved on piercings. It wasn’t long before he discovered that removing even the smallest ring engraved with them was next to impossible, and he sure tried, searching everywhere as the ring slowly changed him. Eventually I realized I didn’t even remember what the point was. This is great! I look so fucking hot and so do all those clients who received those special piercings and tattoos in the first few days. And what’s more, there were so many other glyphs left in that book I simply had to try out… I think I have a feeling what this one does, but let’s just make sure…”

Dylan found himself so overwhelmed by all of this that he didn’t even notice the shop owner’s hands travelling towards his nipple ring. The second his big, furry fingers clasped around it, his body was overtaken by a series of powerful spasms. His cock got rock hard in an instant and shot jets of precum all over his chest. Every part of him that wasn’t secured by those strange leather straps was violently writhing around as Dylan loudly groaned and begged the man to stop. He could feel every muscle in his body burning up as they were forced to rapidly grow and expand at a rate so much faster than ever since that ring was placed inside his nipple. The pain was absolutely awful as even his joints grew longer, but Dylan hardly registered any of it. Everything was drowned out by those overwhelming waves of pleasure flooding his mind. He no longer felt confused or afraid, only horny. He watched those two beastial men going at each other, hungrily kissing and stroking each other’s cocks, and he no longer felt sorry for whatever happened to them, he wanted to join them. He could smell his musk getting stronger, feel that ring increasing in size inside his nipple as the fur on his body grew thicker, all the muscles underneath it becoming much more defined. It turned him on so much, before he knew it all Dylan cared about was finding a hole fuck and doing it quick… but then, suddenly it was all over as unexpectedly as it began.

“See? I did make a man out of you, just like I promised. If only you’d waited a few more days, you could have saved yourself all this trouble…”

Dylan looked down and saw that the man was still holding his nipple ring in his fingers, but nothing was happening, his body wasn’t changing anymore. It this what he was talking about? Did he just use up all the magic contained in that ring? Was this how far he was supposed to change? Dylan could tell that his biceps had grown noticeably bigger, as had the fur on his chest. He couldn’t see it too clearly, but he had a feeling the same was true for his beard as well. His body might have changed further, but it still appeared to be somewhat recognizable. Most importantly, his head was finally clear. He was still horny as hell, but at least he felt like himself, or so it seemed. Dylan was so relieved to see the shop owner standing up and walking away, thinking that it was all finally over, only to see him returning with a tray full of other, massive rings and all sorts of different piercings.

He hardly had a chance to protest as the man lifted up another ring, looking identical to the one he had in his left nipple at the moment, and moved it closer to his chest. Dylan thought that he was merely trying to see whether it was going to fit and he moved it closer to his other nipple but as soon as the piercing touched his skin, something seemingly impossible happened. It was as if the thing just melted into his flesh without any sort of resistance, merging into his nipple. Dylan didn’t have a chance to fully take in what had just happened, as his back suddenly arced up without any sort of warning, every fiber in his body stretching to its very limit. He had no idea what was happening, his mouth opened wide and he began to scream at the top of his lungs, but he couldn’t tell if it was out of pain, pleasure or both.

He watched as his cock started sending out volleys of thick, white cum all over his body, growing in length with each spasm, gaining at least an inch in length and even more than that in width in those few, short moments he had his eyes fixed straight on it. He could feel the same thing happening to his balls, sending out more of his man-milk with each shot and making every following orgasm that much more powerful until he couldn’t control himself in the slightest anymore and his head flopped back against the piercing bed headrest.

Between his own desperate screams for help, Dylan heard the shop owner speaking. Before he’d turned his uncle’s friend into that massive, nearly mindless beast, he’d told him that those cursed piercings weren’t really tied to his material body, only his spirit, that was how they changed him. Dylan tried to make some sense out of what he heard, the words themselves sounded familiar, he knew them, but his mind was under such immense distress he couldn’t understand anything at all. He could only sit there and helplessly watch as his body grew and changed more, his chest expanding in every direction, making that previously loosely hanging leather harness strapped around it creak as it was stretched to its limit. His thighs getting beefier and growing closer to each other, making it clear that the chaps he had on weren’t going to last much longer either. Dylan saw that the fur on his body wasn’t only increasing in density, but was also starting to spread to the last few patches of exposed skin below his neck, leaving him with a pelt nearly matching that of Mack or his other beastial lover. He’d noticed that they’d stopped focusing on each other and were now staring directly at him as they stroked their enormous cocks, deeply sniffing the air filled with Dylan’s musk. All of the fur on his body was completely drenched, either with his cum or the sweat that was simply pouring off him with each tiny growth spurt that his body went through. Together they made for such a potent mixture that anyone inside the room who caught even a whiff of his manscent was instantly hard and leaking.

Even the shopkeeper couldn’t keep his hands off his cock after getting a few lungfuls of his thick musk. Something about that was such a turn on for Dylan, having all these people focused on him, watching him change, knowing that he’d made them so fucking horny. It had only been a few moments, but Dylan was already addicted to all the attention. He wanted to see all these men cum, do it all over him, completely drench him with their spunk. He thrust his hips forward as hard as the restraints around his now much beefier arms would allow him and watched his cock explode with a fountain of man-milk all over his chest. He did not stop and kept on thrusting, as if he was fucking some invisible man sitting on the top of his cock, but this time getting himself to shoot took much longer. He could feel that the power of the ring was starting to wane, but he didn’t want it to be over, not yet. He was loving this too much, he had at least a couple more loads inside him.

Dylan was just starting to open his mouth, about to command one of those horny fuckers watching to get up there and suck him off, but he could only manage a faint gasp as he helplessly collapsed back onto the chair. Suddenly he realized just how exhausted he was; his entire body was aching, and so was his cock. He couldn’t have been here for much longer than an hour, but he’d already shot his load more times than he’d ever done in a single day. Dylan was panting loudly, trying to gather his thoughts. How could he have allowed all of this to happen to him, hadn’t he gotten here to rid himself of that ring? Now he had two piercings in both of his nipples, and he could already see the shop owner lifting up a third one from the tray he’d prepared earlier. Dylan wanted to fight back, but he couldn’t even bring himself to lift his head all the way up. He was only able to meekly shake it and beg the man to stop as another, massive ring made it into his septum.

Somehow the shock was even more powerful than before, focusing entirely on his neck, nearly knocking him out completely. He felt an immense pressure inside his head, almost as if something was happening to his very skull, like it was changing shape, and in the back of his mind Dylan knew that it was true. His brow, cheeks and chin were steadily becoming more pronounced, making him look that much more masculine. For a split second, he was absolutely terrified of becoming completely unrecognizable, but as if the ring had the power to corrupt everything, even his very thoughts had soon drastically changed. Dylan could still recognize that something was wrong, that he didn’t really want this, but as he looked at his massive, jet black beard, not only growing longer, but also that much thicker as it spread further up his cheeks, all he could do was groan in arousal as his cock throbbed with need.

He knew he should have been afraid when he sensed that the changes were spreading towards his neck, making it grow wider and nearly disappear among all the bulk when they moved onto the muscles in his shoulders and made them all expand beyond any human limit, but soon all that was left was this uncontrollable horniness. He looked absolutely fucking hot and he couldn’t deny it, he couldn’t wait to see the changes spread towards his chest either. His meaty pecs were so densely covered with fur that he couldn’t even see them anymore, but he knew that once be broke free he would love cupping them inside his huge, bear paw hands. He wanted to feel them against his palms right now, them and the rest of his fucking hot body, his fat, beer can thick cock especially.

He couldn’t wait anymore. Dylan let out a loud, deep grunt and flexed his arms as hard as he could, making the two leather armbands around his biceps snap in an instant and causing the previously immovable straps tying him to the chair creak and shift a little. He could tell that the shop owner had not expected that to happen. The confident look on his face disappeared right away, and his eyes went wide each time the wave of changes spread further across Dylan’s body, making the muscles on his six pack bulge out further and his thighs grow almost right next to each other as they packed with beef.

It was clear that he was having second thoughts as he was holding another ring between his fingers, but this time around it was Dylan who egged him on to put it inside him. In the back of his mind Dylan heard a voice telling him that he should stop, that this was enough, but he knew that wasn’t true. That harness around his chest and the chaps on his legs were at their absolute limit, but they were still holding on, and he wanted so much so see them burst right off him. He still remember that leatherbound, furry giant he used to fantasize about. He was so close to looking just like him, but he still wasn’t there yet. He still needed more… unlike the last time around, he wasn’t worn out when the changes stopped, only exhilarated as he craved more. He knew it was because he’d stopped fighting them. Why had he ever done that in the first place? Why wouldn’t anyone want this?

Dylan was so turned on by the idea of getting even bigger that when the shop owner finally started pushing the ring into the tip of his cock, he didn’t even let it fully sink in before he went off. His grapefruit sized ball-sack tightened up as he let out a thundering roar and covered both him and the man in front of him in his thick, fragrant man-milk. It was by far his biggest and most powerful cumshot ever, but Dylan didn’t have to wait long for one that could easily dethrone it as his balls expanded and his cock throbbed and grew, turning from an already impressive tool into an absolute monster.

The same was true for the rest of his body. Once the ring was done with his gigantic fuckstick, its influence spread outwards, as the pit of fur between his legs turned into an absolute jungle, so densely packed with hair that even after the most intense shower it would be stinking of his manly musk. But why the fuck would he ever try washing it off in the first place? His man-stink was what kept him horny and ready to fuck all the time. He only wanted more of it now, and the only grooming he would allow himself would be all the tongue baths from the horny sluts eager to worship his body. The immense carpet of fur covering him continued to expand, finally enveloping every inch of his skin below his neck save for the palms of his hand, making him look almost like a real life sasquatch. And a really fucking hot smelling sasquatch on top of that; every strand of that fur was soaked in his manly sweat, he needed to smell it up close right fucking now, cram his face into this ripe pits and take a good, long whiff. He could see the fur practically poking out of them. He couldn’t wait anymore.

Dylan let out a loud, animalistic growl and flexed his growing muscles as hard as he could. His pecs bulged out and the harness covering his chest instantly ripped apart, flying off in a bunch of pieces. The chaps were next, splitting in half, first near his thighs as they became so beefy and muscular they nearly started to overlap, getting so wide they were almost touching each other even when his legs were spread wide apart, and then below his knees near his calves. Knowing that he’d just outgrown all of his gear, which had been a few sizes too big for him, was such an incredible turn on. He was so huge, so strong, so hot.

He watched the shop owner’s face as he pulled at the straps securing him in place. He no longer looked confident or in control, only scared of what he’d just turned him into, but also just as aroused at the same time. Before, Dylan had almost been envious of how manly and hot he looked, but now he was ready to make him his bitch. He probably thought that those straps would be impossible to break out of, but Dylan was so close already. He could have asked anyone here to take them off and knew that they would have obeyed, that they wouldn’t have any other choice, but he wasn’t planning on doing that H he was going to get out of there himself, finally work that massive, leaking cock of his and give his beard a stroke. it wasn’t the longest one around, but definitely the thickest by far. And once he was done exploring his new body, he would give each one of those fuckers exactly what they deserved. He only needed to get a little bit stronger, the magic flowing out of his PA was already exhausted.Dylan turned his head towards the tray prepared by the shop owner. There was a number of smaller barbells laying there, probably more than half a dozen.

“Put them in, all of them, right fucking now!”

Dylan growled at the terrified man and watched him shaking his head, begging him not to do it, as if it wasn’t even for his sake, but Dylan’s own. He could feel that the changes were starting to slow down, his head clearing up a bit from the horny, sexual haze he’d been in until now, but he wasn’t going to let that happen so he could second-guess himself again, he wasn’t planning on letting this stop. Dylan gave the man sitting in front of him a single look that told him everything he needed to know about what was going to happen to him if he didn’t follow his orders, and immediately watched him hurrying with the tray between his leg, pushing one barbell after another inside his man-meat, starting at the base of his cock and ending near its tip.

The rush provided by each of them separately couldn’t compare to the rings that had ended up in his nips, septum and the tip of his cock, but together, they were even more powerful. Dylan did everything he could to hold out blowing his load until the very last piercing made it into his cock, and when he did, it shot out like a canon, flying all the way up to the ceiling. He was so insanely horny he wasn’t even planning on watching himself change like before, he needed to fuck right now. He began pulling at the restraints, the muscles in his arms responding right away, bulging out, growing bigger, harder, surpassing the limits of any lifelong powerlifter and looking that much more impressive thanks to the pelt of fur that covered them completely and was still growing thicker and longer. Dylan let out a low grunt and broke through the restraints. Before he could anything else, he heard the shop owner calling out to his bestial bodyguards, telling them to hold him down, but he was stronger. He tackled one of them to the ground and began mercilessly plowing his hole as hard as he could. He heard him starting to howl, he didn’t know if it was in pain or in pleasure, or both, either one made him horny. When he looked up, he saw that the other beastman, the one who used to be his friend and whose name he didn’t even remember anymore, was gone, and so were most of the clients. Those few who were left were madly jerking off, including the shop owner, who even despite looking scared for his life, couldn’t get his hands off his cock. Dylan grinned and growled.

Zack had no idea what was going on, was this really the Blue Oyster? When he saw the crowd waiting outside, he was sure that he’d gotten the venue wrong, but the neon sign over the entrance was still the same. What Zack didn’t anticipate, was that the people waiting for him inside were a group of even bigger, freakier looking perverts than those by the front door. People looking like him, dressed in regular street clothes, were few and far between. Everyone else was walking around in either some combination of leather or rubber fetish gear, or completely naked. That is, if you could still call someone with the majority of their skin covered in tattoos naked. But it wasn’t only the clientele that was different, the entire place must have undergone a dramatic remodelling over the past week since his last visit. Gone were all the flashy lights and decorations, now the place looked more like a smoke-filled basement or a sex dungeon. Zack could almost swear that he’d seen some BDSM equipment hooked up to the walls, and worst of all, it actually appeared to be in use.

Zack made his way through the endless crowd of furry, sweaty bodies and suddenly ran into an actually familiar face, Mack, an old fuckbuddy of his. It was clear that he was just as disgusted and freaked out by what had happened to Steve’s place as Zack, if not even more so. As he hastily made his way to to the exit, Mack told him that something had happened to Steve too. Apparently everyone assumed that the bar had a new owner, but Mack knew that it was still him. He said he saw Steve coming in to work a few days ago with a huge beard on his face and a massive ring hanging from his nose, acting really strange. He’d seen some of those creepy leathermen at the bar before, but that was really the point they started to outnumber the usual clientele.

Zack wasn’t really sure what to think of that. He just took a seat at the bar where he was supposed to meet up with Dylan, and tried to mind his own business. Suddenly something that cleared up all his doubts happened, a drink appeared right in front of him, not just any drink, but the one he’d been ordering almost every time he came there. The other share being the times Steve ordered them for him, somehow each of the bar’s regulars could expect a few drinks from the owner himself every now and then. Zack had no idea how he kept track of it, but at least in case of those he had some interest in, they were also their favorites on the menu. Steve wasn’t much of a looker, so hardly anyone took him up on it whenever he hit on them, but Zack still thought that he was really sweet, since it didn’t seem like he minded much whenever he turned him down. So when the bartender passed him the drink and told him that it came from the owner himself, Zack had no doubt in his mind that he was talking about Steve, at least until he turned his head towards where the bartender was pointing.

The whole room was dark and there were a bunch of people standing around him, but just a single look at that short muscle-man sitting on a bar stool in the corner was enough to confirm that this wasn’t anyone he knew. He had a huge nose ring just like Mack had said, and an enormous beard that was even bigger than Zack had anticipated based on his description. While his height might have been roughly similar to Steve’s, everything else was different, even a single one of his massive, furry arms probably weighed more than the flamboyant bar owner’s entire body. And this man was anything but flamboyant: he was sitting on a bar stool with his legs opened wide, playing with his nips and puffing on the largest, thickest cigar Zack had ever seen in his life, while a group of bears flocked around him, waiting for a chance to taste his gigantic, pierced cock and furry ballsack. Zack saw at least three of them slobbering all over it, but he could have sworn there was room for a fourth… He couldn’t explain it, but as soon as he laid his eyes on that huge, engraved ring piercing the tip of his impossibly large cock, he felt such a strong need to crawl up there and join all of them that he wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to keep himself in place. Zack shook his head, he had no idea what was going on. This guy was nowhere near his type, so why was he having such trouble peeling his eyes away from his cock all of a sudden?

Something really messed up was going on here. Zack tried to ignore it, but underneath this enormous beard and all the bulk and fur, that man really looked a lot like Steve. It wasn’t just him either. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t deny that many of the men around him seemed awfully familiar. When he’d walked in and taken a seat by the bar, Zack had done his best not to stare at the man standing behind the counter, at his gigantic gut that was so massive he had a nearly fully sized leather biker tattooed over it, with his ass opened wide and his hole placed exactly on top of the bartender’s belly button. Zack could now hear him calling out to people, inviting them to fuck him either from the front or the back. He took a quick glance in his direction as he suddenly noticed something on the guy’s arm, a different, older looking tattoo hiding among all those strange symbols covering his skin. It was a pair of hearts with initials inside them. Zack recognized it immediately, and knew that the club didn’t have a new bartender like he’d thought at first. The man he was looking at was Troy, only at least two hundred pounds heavier. He only had a small goatee around his mouth, but somehow all that weight made him even harder to recognize than Steve.

Zack stared directly at him for a good couple moments as he slowly realized that something absolutely unimaginable must have happened to him and everyone else here. Zack looked around frantically , unable to shake off the feeling that everyone here was watching him, like they knew he’d figured it all out. All his thoughts up till now had been occupied with Dylan, about how terrible he felt for teasing and then abandoning him that night, how he was going to apologize to him as soon as he saw him, but now all Zack cared about was getting out of there as soon as he could, before whatever had happened to the others happened to him too. He was just about to get up from his barstool when a huge, furry hand suddenly appeared over his shoulder.

“Didn’t think you’d come. Need that tight, slutty hole of yours filled that badly?”

The voice was deep and gravelly, but Zack still recognized it right away. His stomach sank as he slowly turned around, only to see his best friend towering over him with his furry, muscled body. Wearing nothing but a pair of chaps and a leather harness, he didn’t look out of place at all among the new clients of the club, not quite as freakishly huge as some, but still bigger and more imposing looking than most with his big beard and beefy body. If he’d only chatted him up a few moments earlier, there was no way Zack would have even suspected it was him.

“Oh my god, Dylan… what… what’s happened to you?”

Zack blurted out in his stuttering voice, only to watch his friend looking himself over as he flexed his hairy biceps and gave his huge, erect cock a few strokes.

“Yeah, looking fucking hot, huh? I bet you’ve been lusting after that cock all week.”

Zack had no idea what to say, it was like he was talking to some stranger. For a second he almost started to doubt whether it was really Dylan.He took a closer look at the guy’s face: it looked rougher… manlier, but he was still recognizably Dylan. Maybe he could get through to him somehow …

“Dylan, listen to me… something’s going on here, something’s happened to all the people here, to you as well… we need to get you help… You’ve got to remember!”

Zack was sure that Dylan was going to scoff at that as well, but suddenly the confident and horny grin on his face gave way to a much more scared and confused expression. He looked down at his hands, then at his beefy chest covered with fur, and then stared straight at Zack.

“Oh my god… Zack? We… we have to get out of here right now!”

Dylan grit his teeth and grabbed the ring with both of his hands and started trying to unscrew one of its ends and pull it off. His body reacted right away, a big volley of precum shooting out of his cock as his hips thrusted forward, a loud, horny grunt escaping through his clenched mouth. He instantly felt so turned on that he could barely think. If Dylan hadn’t felt one of the beads move ever so slightly back, he would have gone straight for his cock, but he still had some hope left, something to focus on. He could see that something was happening to his body as he gripped the ring: the fur on his chest was growing thicker before his eyes, his arms getting beefier. In just mere seconds he was completely soaked with sweat that was just pouring off him.

It was then that Dylan finally discovered the source of the manly stink he could never rid himself of and that always made him so hard and ready to fuck in an instant. He took a deep breath and shoved his face straight into his ripe armpit, without even thinking about it, and suddenly he saw him, a massive, muscle-bound beast of a man sporting a huge beard, dressed from head to toe in tight leather gear and with a pelt of dark fur so thick he couldn’t even see his skin save for his face and the palms of his hands. He was tugging on enormous metal rings hanging from his big, pointy tits and was working his gigantic cock riddled with piercings into the hole of an almost equally huge and muscular slave. That was how a man looking like this smelled like, and that was how he was starting to smell like himself, how he always wanted to smell from now on. Dylan let out a thundering roar as his cock suddenly exploded, shooting thick volleys of cum everywhere in sight.

Dylan didn’t even let the load fully dry up before he put on the last pair of clothing that still fit him and headed outside. He needed something new to wear, something that would fit him better than all that crap he had in his closet. He had one place in particular in mind; that leather fetish store he’d passed so many times on his way to work in the past. Somehow he’d never had the courage to step inside, but why the fuck not? He would look damn hot in some leather gear. But as he made his way towards the shop, he suddenly found himself feeling a bit off about the whole thing. Dylan couldn’t really explain what was wrong Didn’t he always want to visit that shop and get some hot gear for himself? Yeah, he was going to look fucking great in some leather, but then why did he have this strong feeling in his gut that he should turn around and forget all about it instead? No matter, he was already almost there, he might as well check out what was inside.

The store was completely empty. He only found a short, stocky shop assistant there to show him around. He said his name was Ray, he was probably somewhere in his mid twenties, around Dylan’s age with short, ginger hair and a neatly trimmed beard, dressed completely in black with a leather vest on top of his clothes. He had his eyes fixed on Dylan from the moment he walked in, wasting no time and immediately coming onto him under the guise of trying to help him pick out something he liked. Dylan couldn’t deny that all of his suggestions really hit the spot for him, but at that point any piece of fetish gear would have probably done the trick. He was so turned on, smelling all that leather around him, it was everywhere he turned his head to and he wanted so much to try it all on. But even as his cock continued to grow hard in his pants, Dylan still couldn’t rid himself of that eerie sense that he shouldn’t be spending even a minute longer inside his place.

Ray could see the conflict brewing on Dylan’s face. It wasn’t the first time someone was having second thoughts while shopping there, but this furry beefcake was way too hot, he wasn’t going to pass on the opportunity of seeing him in a nice harness and a pair of chaps. Ray grabbed those as well as a few other things off the racks. Practically pushing his customer towards the changing room, getting there inside with him and eagerly helping him undress. Dylan was still way too confused to even try to resist. Any misgivings he might have had about the whole thing were slowly giving way arousal as Ray told him how hot he was going to look in the getup he’d picked out for him and how everyone at their local leather bar would be all over him when he showed up there tonight.

Dylan moaned feeling Ray’s hands all over his body. He seemed to be spending more time taking every opportunity to grope and explore his muscles than actually securing the gear onto his body. He continued to compliment Dylan on his looks every chance he got, saying how much he loved his thick fur and big beard. He told him more about that club he was going to that evening. Apparently the place used to be very vanilla until not too long ago, but the management must have changed and ever since the new owner had taken over, every brand of perverts in town started gathering there. Every night the place was full of rubber and leather bears, bikers, tattooed and pierced sex pigs. Dylan was starting to feel turned on again, not even caring when Ray pulled down his pants and briefs and put the chaps around his waist, exposing his hardening cock.

He could tell that Ray wanted to taste it, and he was starting to feel inclined to do just that as he listened to him saying that if he showed up there tonight wearing all that gear, everyone would be paying attention to him and only him, even the new owner of the place. Ray’s daddy, the store’s owner, had told him that he had paid them a visit the other day, looking for a custom made piece of gear for himself. Apparently the man was surprisingly short, but packed with so much muscles and beef, not to mention the fur on his back and chest, that he looked nearly as wide as he was tall and had marched into their store almost completely naked, with a wild beard all the way down to his crotch and a cartoonishly huge nose ring. Dylan was already working his meat, fantasizing about ramming it right into that man’s bearded mouth and probably equally furry ass, nearly shooting on the post when Ray told him that the guy had liked the leather they’d prepared for him so much he’d walked out of the changing room with strands of thick, milky cum hanging all over his beard, belly and chest. Dylan nearly completely forgot all about his qualms about coming here and was ready to give Ray’s hole the pounding of his life that he was obviously waiting for, when he finally heard the name of the club he was talking about and suddenly realized something.

That was exactly where he’d been drinking with Zack last week. Dylan even knew its owner, Steve. They’d talked a few times after he’d tried to hit on him and bought him drinks at the bar. He wasn’t really his type, even shorter than he used to be back then and a bit too old, but he still found him so nice and kind every time. Somehow Dylan instantly knew that this was the man Ray had been talking about. That whatever was happening to him had happened to Steve too, that this was how he was going to end up too if he didn’t stop this. For a second, the image of that furry, muscle-bound giant he’d seen earlier while jerking off flashed before Dylan’s eyes, and even as his whole body was completely frozen in shock, he felt an intense temptation to continue stroking and see where it led him, but he managed to fight it off. He was about to tell Ray to get all this crap off him and that he was getting out of there, but before he could even open his mouth, he saw the shop assistant’s hands travelling towards his chest.

Dylan felt Ray’s fingers clamping around his nipples, pinching them and tugging on the ring. He wanted to stop himself but his body acted on its own. He pushed Ray against the changing room mirror and tore down his pants. He saw his big, furry hands opening up Ray’s ass before he thrust his leaking cock inside it. He heard Ray’s scared and aroused moans, watched his face in the mirror. He seemed absolutely freaked out and turned on in equal measure by the sudden change in Dylan’s personality. Seeing him bent over and turned into his helpless bitch as he fucked him from behind was such a turn on for Dylan, but still nowhere near as much as watching himself do it in the mirror.

His furry, leather clad body looked so hot, he could see sweat appearing on his brow, soaking into his fur as the changing room filled with the smell of his musk in addition to Ray’s lustful moans. He slapped his chubby ass, calling him his slut, his bitch, asking if this was what he wanted as he kept on pounding his hole, the cub only managing to helplessly moan in response. Dylan began to grunt himself, tightly grabbing his hips and fucking Ray even faster and harder, he was looking so fucking hot but still needed more, more fur and more muscles. He could already see him growing bigger, beefier, towering over this horny slut with his immense bulk and for a split second it wasn’t him being reflected in the mirror in front of him, but that beast of a man from his wet daydreams. Dylan roared and pulled Ray onto his crotch, shoving as much of his cock as he could into Ray’s hole as it exploded inside him. Dylan began panting loudly and gave it a few more thrusts before pulling out his spent cock. He took a look around and gasped in shock when he realized what he’d done.

Dylan looked at the large band-aid plastered over his chest, directly on top of his left nipple. A part of him still refused to believe that he had actually let Zack talk him into this. Getting a piercing, really? Where had he even gotten that strange idea from? Guess that was just one entry on a very long list of things that his friend used to ridicule him for being afraid of. The two of them looked so awfully similar they often got mistaken for brothers: both being young, fit and stunningly attractive twinks in their early twenties, they always received plenty of attention whenever they went clubbing, either together or by themselves. That was however where most of the comparisons between them ended. Zack was definitely the more adventurous of the two and rarely missed the opportunity to remind Dylan of that. While their nights usually started out with a visit to one of the most popular local gay bars, more often than not they ended with Dylan back in his own bed, snuggly wrapped in his blanket as he dozed off watching something on the TV.

Zack on the other hand never had any problem getting extremely drunk and finding someone to hook up with, didn’t matter who. As long as they were hot, had a big dick and were willing to fuck, be it in the club’s bathroom or back at their place, Zack was up for it. Pretty often it meant leaving his friend stranded in the place they were at without saying a word, but sometimes Dylan actually preferred that to having Zack stick around. Especially if he had already had something to drink, that was one way to make sure that his teasing would never stop. Usually it started with something relatively minor, like the fact that Dylan could hardly ever stomach any drink that had more than just a few drops of alcohol in it. Or that whenever someone lit a cigarette around him, he instantly bolted to the opposite side of the room. Lately, however, Zack’s mind appeared to be set on the idea of visiting that tattoo and piercing studio which opened in their area not so long ago.

They’d both overheard a pair of bearded, muscular guys in leather talking about it the other day. They looked somewhat out of place at the bar they were at, and to be frank, they freaked out Dylan a little bit, but of course Zack insisted on sitting right next to them exactly for that very reason. They both cautiously watched as the leathermen talked and showed off their new tattoos and piercings. One of them was so hairy he actually had to comb away some of his fur to make those big metal studs running through his nipples visible at all. Oddly enough, Dylan had a feeling that he might have seen that guy somewhere before, maybe even talked to him. Although that was probably only his imagination, they didn’t see very many of those bear types at the places they usually frequented. But that being said, it was definitely funny to discover that Zack wasn’t quite as comfortable with the two of them as he had initially pretended to be. Dylan always knew that his friend played up his confidence by a lot, but seeing his face when the leathermen began to twist and pull on their nipple rings was just hilarious. He looked absolutely mortified!

Maybe that was the reason why he ultimately decided to actually take him up on his suggestion of visiting that tattoo parlor. That, or maybe he had simply had one too many of his usual cocktails that evening. One thing he knew for sure, though, was that he had never had any intention of getting anything pierced or tattooed in the first place… or at least so he thought. Just like he expected, Zack’s conviction to go through with the idea grew weaker the further they ventured into the sketchy area that the piercing studio was supposedly situated in. Dylan had no idea that places like this even existed. They walked through dark alleys, often passing men like those they’d seen at the bar. Some were incredibly muscular, with big beards and hairy bodies, wearing plenty of leather gear. Others didn’t have any muscles or fur at all, only big, round bellies and huge sets of moobs spilling on top of them. A few were walking on all fours and wearing strange, animal like masks. They didn’t seem to mind and only made excited barking noises when big, imposing cigar men yanked on their leashes and pulled them between their legs. And while it almost seemed like they’d witnessed every last flavor of depraved, sexual perversion on their way there, tons of piercings and tattoos were definitely the one thing all those men had in common.

There were many points at which Dylan wanted to turn around, but watching Zack acting like the scared one for once was too much fun. He kept on begging him to get back to the bar they’d been at, or even return home, but Dylan pressed on. He knew that if he relented, the following day his friend would act like he was the one who had chickened out. On a few occasions, some of those scary men in fetish gear tried to approach them, but surprisingly, simply mentioning where they were headed was enough for all of them to leave them alone right away. Just like he expected, Zack eventually made up some excuse on why he had to go and ran off, without as much as looking back.

Unfortunately for Dylan, his moment of victory was very short lived. He did not realize it until it was too late, but he was standing right in front of his destination, and it didn’t take long before one of the guys hanging out by the entrance took notice of him. Somehow he looked even bigger and more terrifying than anyone they’d encountered before. His enormous muscles were covered with so much hair and ink that Dylan could barely see any of his skin underneath. He probably took him for someone who came here to get a tattoo or have something pierced, but needed a little push to actually get inside. Of course, Dylan tried to explain that this wasn’t really the case, but the man did not listen, he grabbed him by the arm and practically carried him inside the studio.

Everything that happened afterwards was just a blur, but based on the few things he could recall, Dylan wasn’t at all surprised that he blacked out at some point, or simply chose to forget what went down there. The place looked even sleazier than some of fetish clubs that Zack told him about, but he never dared to visit himself. He saw so many absolutely obscene photos plastered over the walls, showing off piercings much more adventurous than the one he ended up with, and such explicit and perverted tattoo designs that just thinking about them now was making him blush. Even then, they somehow still paled in comparison with some of the men he’d seen inside. Dylan hadn’t thought that people looking like that even existed, that he would ever run into one, let alone a whole bunch of them.

He vaguely recalled them forming a circle around him as soon as he was hauled inside. Starting to laugh at his cries for help, mocking him whenever he begged them to let him go. At some point a tall, muscular and completely naked man approached him. Dylan thought that even despite his nudity he still looked like the most normal one of the bunch by far, but that was only until he reached for his cock and began jerking off. Dylan heard a loud, rattling sound and found himself looking down at his crotch without really thinking about it. He eyes instantly went wide when he realized that the man not only had a huge PA piercing the head of his cock, but there was also a long line of even larger, thicker rings running between his balls. Dylan yelped in shock and started backing away, accidentally running into the round, protruding belly of an older, pipe smoking man.

When he first turned his head and caught a glimpse of his bearded face, Dylan thought that he almost reminded him of his grandpa. But grandpops would never go out in public in such a perverted, skin tight, rubber bodysuit like that and definitely didn’t have an enormous, absolutely obscene bulge swinging between his legs. The shiny black material was clinging so closely to his skin that Dylan could instantly tell that he had even more metal hanging from it than the other guy. He hardly let his eyes wander towards it and the older man was already lifting it up with both of his gloved hands, asking him if he would like to touch it as his lips twisted into a wide, lecherous grin around the stem of his pipe.

He tried to get away from him as well, but it was all too obvious by then that he had been completely trapped. No matter how much he begged, the men refused to let him out of the circle they formed around him, and only kept on showing him more of the terrifying things they’d done to their bodies. Leather-clad bears were flexing their gigantic, bulging muscles right in front of him, nearly shoving their exposed, furry chests straight into his face, together with their oversized, pierced nipples that were only a few inches shy of looking like actual, erect cocks.

Others had covered themselves with so much ink they already seemed to be running out of space for more of their grotesque tattoos. Some of the scenes he’d seen depicted on their bodies were so vile and twisted that Dylan was having trouble thinking about them without feeling sick, and the fact that they all had them permanently engraved on their skin made it so much worse. Not only that, they were all so happy to show them off, together with all of those absolutely demeaning words they had tattooed on themselves for everyone to see. Slut, pig, whore, slave, cum dump, toilet, those were only a few he could recall. Even though the men bearing them often looked drastically different, they all had that hungry look in their eyes. Especially those few without even the smallest bit of metal piercing their skin, only tons of black ink underneath it.

There was just something different about them. While he was afraid of all the others because of what they might do to him, Dylan didn’t even dare to approach those few because of what he was afraid he might do to them. He couldn’t explain it now, things were so different back there. The air was thick with tobacco smoke, the scent of sex, sweat, heavily worn leather gear. Some people were getting so turned on by showing off, starting to kiss, then fuck. One moment he was completely freaked out and everything was clear, but the other his head was swimming and he couldn’t recall anything, until eventually the latter completely replaced the former. The very last thing he remembered was hearing the sound of a door opening as everyone instantly went silent and stopped what they were doing.

An enormous, beefy man walked inside, Dylan never saw his face, only a huge septum ring hanging over his thick, ginger beard. A furry barrel chest with two fat, pierced nipples poking out of a leather vest. The man effortlessly picked him up and shoved him onto the piercing chair, strapping him in tightly. Everything after that moment was a complete blank. e must have been still trying to plead with him, explain that it had all been a joke, but looking at the large band-aid on his chest, he clearly must have been unsuccessful.

Dylan wondered how long he was supposed to keep it there. Of course he was planning on getting rid of the piercing as soon as possible, but he figured it would be best to refrain from touching or fiddling with it for now. Better to let it heal a little, he’d rather not get an infection or anything. Still, he was a bit curious… Trying his best to ignore the awful hangover he had woken up with today, he got off his bed and headed towards the bathroom. He turned on the lights, walked up to the mirror and began inspecting the dressing. Initially Dylan assumed that getting one’s nipples pierced would hurt like hell, but he couldn’t really feel much of anything right now. Shouldn’t it at least be a little sore after yesterday?

He knew it was a stupid idea, but he just had to know what was hiding underneath it. Make sure that there was anything up there at all. It would have been pretty embarrassing if they had decided to prank him and sent him home all bandaged up without doing anything else at all. Dylan walked up even closer to the mirror and started carefully peeling away the dressing. Going really slowly, still afraid that it might suddenly start to hurt if he messed around with it too much. He’d managed to pull it away just far enough to take a look inside and sure enough, it was there. A tiny barbell running right through his left nipple, with two shining beads screwed to each end. Dylan was surprised to discover that a part of him was actually feeling a little disappointed. He’d expected the whole thing to be much bigger, scarier looking, there wasn’t even a single drop of blood anywhere on the bandage, what he got instead was probably the smallest, most pathetic looking piercing he’d ever seen!

In fact, a whole other discovery he’d made just now fazed Dylan a lot more. At the center of his chest, right between his nipples, there was a patch of blonde hair. Only a few, sparse wisps that were barely noticed unless he was staring directly at them. Nevertheless they were there, and even though Dylan wasn’t sure why, they really freaked him out. Since when had they been growing there? Probably not very long, only last week that cute guy he’d hooked up with had given him so many compliments about his soft and perfectly smooth skin when they were lying in bed together. He could remember so many others doing that too… what should he do now? Just shave it off? Dylan took a cursory look around his bathroom, he probably did have a razor around here somewhere, but it wasn’t like he used it often… Ugh, Dylan groaned and smashed his fist against the sink, screw it! He would look for it later, once he got over this damn hangover! That banging inside his head was starting to really piss him off!

He hastily put the dressing back into its place and went back to his bedroom, ready to take another nap. Only after he collapsed on the bed did it occur to him how extremely messed up and unusual it was for him to have an outburst like that, but by then it was already too late, he was falling asleep. When he woke up, Dylan didn’t remember much about having felt disconcerted at all or even about what it was that he’d just been dreaming about. That being said, judging from that tent rising from under the bedsheets, it must have been something very exciting…

Damn, he didn’t even realize just how horny he’d been until he pulled them away. When he saw his rock hard member, proudly jutting from the small patch of blonde fur around his crotch, he just had to grab it with his hand and start stroking. Not a single thought questioning where all that hair had suddenly come from crossed his head. The only thing he focused on was how hot it looked. Dylan closed his eyes and lifted up his legs a little, gently sliding his hand between them, reaching out to play with his hole, imagining it was some cute guy getting inside it, rather than just his fingers.

Usually this was exactly what he needed. Sometimes Dylan could even get himself off this way without touching his dick at all, but this time around it just felt off somehow. As if he hadn’t been a complete bottom since the day he first jerked off while thinking about another guy, he found himself slowly going limp. All of his romantic fantasies about handsome men passionately taking him from behind suddenly didn’t appeal to him at all. In the end, Dylan simply assumed that he probably wasn’t in the mood for any of this after all, but as soon as he pulled his fingers from between his thighs, he discovered that his cock was back at full mast again, making him feel hornier than ever.

Before he knew it, he had it in his hand and was back to beating off. He slowly closed his eyes, only this time around the guy he’d been fantasizing about didn’t appear behind him like usual, but between his legs. He was taking his entire cock inside his mouth, his head rhythmically bobbing up and down. Dylan almost couldn’t believe just how much this was turning him on. Blowjobs usually did nothing for him, but this… fuck, he could almost feel that guy’s tongue working its way all over his hard-on. He began to moan, imagining the man caressing his body, his palms travelling from his athletic thighs to the patch of fur on his chest. Dylan’s hands followed them everywhere in unison.

Feeling awfully close, he started thrusting his hips forward, wildly facefucking this imaginary man servicing him between his legs. He’d never been this aggressive with someone, but it just felt so right and so fucking hot. Dylan saw the man reaching out to play with his right nipple and it was already between his fingers being pinched and mercilessly tugged on as he uncontrollably moaned at the top of his lungs, beating off his meat as fast as he physically could. He was so engrossed in his wild fantasy that he completely forgot about the dressing covering the other side of his chest. Feeling an absolutely overwhelming need to play with it as well, Dylan abruptly let go of his cock. A tip of his finger had only barely touched his nipple piercing through the thick bandage, but his eyes immediately jolted wide open as an intense, electric current rapidly made its way across his body, jumping from his pierced nipple straight to his throbbing cock, making it explode with volleys of milky white cum all over his chest.

The strength of the unexpected orgasm was so overpowering that Dylan couldn’t really tell whether touching that tiny barbell hurt or just felt so incredibly good that he couldn’t even process it fully. He spent a good couple of minutes laying on his back and panting loudly, trying to take in what had just happened. Things had gotten wild, really wild, easily putting even his kinkiest fantasies to shame in one single swoop. Dylan had no idea where it had all come from, and felt a little concerned, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t enjoyed it… he had proof of that splattered all over his body. He smirked and figured that he should probably try to clean some of it up, hefted himself off the bed and made his way to the bathroom. Seeing the patch of wet fur growing across his chest as he wiped it clean made him pause for a second. He wasn’t sure why, he had always had some hair up there, hadn’t he? Just a tiny bit, but it really seemed to be getting thicker lately. Dylan had no idea what to think about that. He hated to admit it, but he kind of liked it, it made him look so much more like a man… he immediately shuddered, unable to shake off the feeling that he’d heard that exact phrase somewhere before, and not in the most pleasant of circumstances.

Either way, what worried him far more than those few wisps of fur, was what happened when he accidentally touched that new nipple piercing of his. Dylan remembered reading somewhere that having them done could make them more sensitive, but he would never have imagined that it would be that strong. He really hoped it was only temporary, it would be a nightmare to have his cock go off like that whenever someone accidentally bumped into him on the street. Carefully, he took another look under the dressing to check the situation down there. Everything appeared to be in order, not even a drop of blood or anything he’d feared. Oddly enough, the only thing that piqued his interest was the piercing itself, something about it seemed off… Hadn’t he remarked about how awfully tiny it looked the last time around? Was he still a little drunk after last night or something? In terms of size, it didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary. It was maybe a little bit smaller than most barbells he’d ever seen, but it definitely wasn’t tiny. It looked good, and Dylan found that a small part of him was actually a little disappointed he would have to get rid of it soon…

He left the bathroom and gradually realized that he had no idea whatsoever what time it was. It seemed like it was already getting dark, so he must have dozed off for quite a while, but at least that damn hangover appeared to be gone. Dylan picked up his phone and unlocked it, just to see a good handful of unanswered calls and messages, most coming from Zack. Much to his amusement, he appeared to have been worried sick about him. It was funny, somehow he had completely forgotten about him until now. Dylan knew that he should have been angry for ditching him last night, but after reading all those messages where Zack was profusely apologizing for leaving him there, and practically begging him to give him a sign that he was still alive, he figured that his friend had already received his punishment. Or perhaps maybe not… just as he was starting to type the reply to Zack’s message, assuring him that he was fine, a truly devilish idea popped into Dylan’s head. Maybe he should hold off with that for a day or two more, just to make sure that Zack had really learned his lesson. Yeah, that was a nice thought, and besides, he had a much better idea on what to do with his time right now… Dylan grinned, realizing that he was sprouting yet another hard-on…

It was tough to get used to how horny he suddenly started to feel all the time. He had to work out a good couple loads every day, or else he would be so on the edge that even the tiniest thing would be enough to make him snap. But at the same time, it wasn’t like Dylan didn’t grow to enjoy it, even if it turned out to be a huge pain at work. He would be sitting in his cubicle, typing something on the keyboard, focusing on working through the massive stack of documents someone had dropped off on his desk, when he would suddenly smell it. He didn’t really know what it was. At first it was too faint to really make out, but it still made him so horny. Just a tiny whiff and everything he’d been doing flew out of the window as thoughts of sweaty mansex took its place. His cock getting hard and leaking so profusely with precum, it threatened to stain his pants. He would have to excuse himself to the bathroom and jerk off there just to be able to do any work at all.

At first Dylan used to dread every boner, showering and scrubbing himself clean every chance he got, just to get rid of that musky, erotic odour that somehow still returned every time. Yet with each jack-off session, he found himself getting into it more and more. Not trying to get over with it as soon as possible, but rather taking his sweet time and enjoying himself to the fullest. Dylan’s trips to the bathroom kept on growing longer, and he steadily put less and less work into trying to make them look as inconspicuous as possible. In only a few days it practically became the new norm for him. He did not remember at all that things used to be different, that in the beginning he had been so scared of getting caught and getting in trouble that he’d covered his mouth whenever he came into the palm of his hand.

Now he didn’t care in the slightest if anyone heard his horny grunts coming from inside the stall as he furiously pumped his meat, sniffing his bushy pits and working his huge nips. His coworkers probably knew what he was doing in there, but that only turned him on more. It used to worry him whenever they told him that he’d changed, that at times he almost seemed like a completely different person. It still often did after he shot his load and his head cleared up a little. Dylan knew that something was happening to him, something that was seemingly impossible and completely unexplainable. His body was changing, he was slowly turning into something else. Most of the time everything appeared to be normal and he was convinced he had always been this way. Yet people kept asking him questions, curiously inquiring whether he’d signed up for a gym membership recently, if he’d been shaving and dying his hair until now. Dylan didn’t pay them much mind at first, but soon things had gotten so bad he could no longer ignore them.

He saw the way his neighbors were starting to look at him, always having to do a double take and often asking if it was really him whenever they ran into him as he was entering his apartment. It was becoming so difficult to get his clothes on in the morning, not only just because Dylan couldn’t bring himself to get out of the bed without pumping out a thick load or two onto his broad, furry chest, getting more easily turned on the bigger and thicker it became. They were simply getting so uncomfortably tight that he could barely move around without having to risk tearing them apart. From the very start he loved the feeling having them right against his skin, showing off his growing musculature. In the back of his mind, Dylan always knew that something strange was going on: He hadn’t been working out at all, but his muscles kept on getting bigger, becoming more prominent with each passing day. His arms becoming wider, developing powerful biceps. Pecs and sets of abs gradually appearing over his lean, slender body and eventually growing to such a size, nobody would have believed him if he told them he didn’t hit the gym on a daily basis. It was obvious that something seemingly impossible was happening to him; he’d not only gained a ton of muscle, but also a whole few inches in height. Soon, his only problem wasn’t that the things inside his wardrobe were getting uncomfortably tight, one by one they simply became impossible to fit on his new, beefy frame.

And yet somehow it was so difficult to bring himself to worry about any of this. All these changes just felt so natural, even if Dylan knew perfectly well that they were not. He not only began to forget that he’d ever looked any different, but each time he worked his big, meaty cock, Dylan discovered that this growing urge to get even bigger was becoming stronger. It was the same as when he first noticed all that hot fur spreading across his body. It was almost hard to believe just how much it used to freak him out when he saw it appearing out of nowhere on previously perfectly smooth parts of his body.

It had all started with a tiny bit of it on his chest and over his balls, but it did not stay this way for long. Dylan would suddenly find himself looking at his hands, watching that dusting of hair on top of his knuckles grow thicker, lone strands starting to poke out from under his shirt cuffs. Back then, they had still been light blonde in color and not that easy to notice, but whenever he did, it was just impossible to peel his eyes away from them. He would try telling himself that he would shave them off as soon as he got home, but in the end, he had never managed to actually bring himself to do it. Playing with his hardening cock as he looked at the fur spreading across his forearms, was just so much more tempting. He would starting moving his hands all over his body, exploring every new place where the hair had taken root. He could feel the fur growing thicker underneath his palms, taking over his entire chest, turning into a huge bush around his crotch and creeping upwards, covering his abs as one, wide trail of fur.

Each load he milked out of his cock was bringing them closer together, promising a real pelt that would envelop his entire body once they both connected. The prospect of that happening sometimes terrified him so much that often Dylan was too afraid to answer phone calls from his worried friends or even think about going outside, lest someone see him like this. It got even worse when all that fur began growing darker and spreading to his arms and back, appearing over his face and neck as dense, rough stubble that didn’t need long before it looked like an actual beard. But even then, putting his furry paw of a hand over his throbbing meat was always enough to warm him up to the idea of staying as this huge, hirsute hunk of a man forever. Convincing himself of how hot he was starting to look and how he should let all this fur grow out even more, show it off to everyone he could. Dylan could tell that the periods during which he was still himself, still aware of what was happening and how crazy it all was, were growing shorter. He desperately tried to fight it and hold on. He scoured his apartment in search of things that could remind him of who he used to be, old photos and keepsakes that this constantly horny new him, able to think of nothing but sex, would never hold any interest in. He found himself lying on his bed, flicking through the pictures of his old self saved on his phone. Trying his best to keep his eyes away from his huge, hirsute chest, not get aroused by the sight of his big, furry hands. He focused on that cute, blonde twink posing in front of the camera and almost couldn’t believe that it used to be him. He used to act so shy and nervous when he was being photographed by his friend, but now he realized that it’d been days since he’d even bothered to read any of Zack’s texts.

Dylan immediately attempted to give him a call and when he didn’t pick up, he hastily left him a voicemail telling him how sorry he was for ignoring him all week and that he really needed his help now. But at the same time, Dylan knew he couldn’t risk waiting for Zack’s reply. He had to take care of this right now, or else he might forget about everything all over again. It had all started after he’d come back from that piercing studio. somehow, Dylan still remembered just as little about what had happened to him that night as the morning after, when he’d woken up completely clueless with that band-aid on his chest. But as the days went on, he found himself coming back to those few, short snippets he could recall. At some point, he stopped trying to convince himself that all those twisted and perverted things he’d seen there were merely a product of his frightened and extremely drunk mind. He wanted it all to be true, if only because of how much all those pierced and tattooed men eventually began turning him on.

Whenever he closed his eyes while jacking off, he no longer saw any of the cute, handsome twinks he’d always used to fantasize about. The men who appeared there in their place looked very different, much more like those he’d seen in the studio that night. Their bodies covered with the most perverted tattoos, packing so much fur and muscle that, in comparison, he might as well have still been the same tiny, hairless wimp who had originally run into them a week ago. But this time around, he wasn’t afraid when he looked at them. He wanted to fuck them, dominate them, he actually felt like he could do it, make each one moan like a bitch as he rammed his massive, rock-hard man-meat right into their holes. Dylan suddenly gasped and barely managed to pull his hand away from his cock. Fuck, he had nearly given into it again… it was so tempting to scoop up that huge bead of pre forming at the tip of his dick with his thumb and give it a taste, worry about whatever was happening to him later, but Dylan could tell that next time, he might be too far gone already.

He looked at his chest, at that ring hiding among all the fur. He could feel it inside his nipple, something was happening to it, it was changing again… like every other time he was working his cock and found his body being changed together with it. It had taken so long to notice all of this, and even now, when his mind was still mostly clear, he almost couldn’t believe that he was looking at what had been just a small, barely noticeable barbell piercing only a few days ago. Now it was a huge, metal horseshoe hanging from his left nipple, with two large balls on each end and a surface covered with tiny, indistinguishable carvings. Dylan had no idea what they meant or how they had gotten there, but he knew that he had to get rid of the whole thing right now. Even in his most lustful moments he still remembered what happened whenever he touched the piercing, and had only done it a small handful of times until now with the same effect, but now he had no other choice.

Paul found David’s magic forcing him to leave his apartment. If it were up to him, he’d stay inside forever and hide what he had been turned into. However, David said Paul would go to school, so he found himself against his will waddling off to the college. As he walked, his hips swinging wildly from side to side, he reached down to his permanent hard-on and jacked-off, trying to focus on anything else besides the tingling in his nipples. He tried again to reach them, and again, his pecs and biceps stopped the process. He found that he almost got the job done by shrugging his massive shoulders, feeling his arm muscles rub against his monstrous pecs, almost touching his protruding, hard nipples.

Paul waddled down the street, blushing the second a man walked by. The man didn’t seem to think anything was wrong with a four-hundred pound bodybuilder waddling down the street jacking off and trying to rub his nipples. He acted as if he had seen it a million times, refusing to give it a second look.

Paul on the other hand tried to turn around and go home, but he couldn’t stop his feet and they thumped onto the sidewalk, carrying him farther away from solitude. He came then, letting his cum spill out on the sidewalk.

Paul gasped and looked around, expecting people to shout out and condemn him for squirting out in public, but no one paid attention.

“Good morning,” a businessman had told Paul as he strolled past him.

“Hey sexy,” Paul responded, wincing at the words that came out of his mouth. He tried to apologize, but all that came out was “Check out my huge muscle tits!” Paul felt himself flex his pecs, making them bounce up and down for the businessman. He screamed inside to stop, actually getting turned on by the feeling of his meaty pecs moving.

“Sorry,” the businessman said, “I’m not gay.” He then turned to walk away.

I’m not gay either! Paul shouted in his head, but instead out of his mouth came, “Well I am. Proud fag right here everybody! I love cock!” He turned red with embarrassment and continued his way back to the college, looking down so he wouldn’t get distracted by another man.

Eventually Paul made it to the college, walking into the quad to go to his English class, one he had with David. All throughout his body fear was radiating through that he might be forced to do something even more humiliating. He was still fondling his boner and trying to rub his nipples, he was scared at what else David would make him do. He waddled over to the building where the class was, but before he reached it, his eyes stopped on something in the center of the quad.

There was a hairy bodybuilder there doing a side triceps pose, a wide smile plastered on his face, who had scared eyes. Paul felt his hormones rage at the sight of this muscle man and he waddled over, barely able to concentrate on anything except feeling his hairy muscles. When he reached the other bodybuilder, Paul found he was about a foot-taller and easily out-weighed him by about one-hundred pounds.

“You make me so hard,” he found himself moan, unconsciously pushing his hard dick forward.

The hairy bodybuilder took a look at Paul and still smiled. He straightened his stance and put his arms on his torso to perform a front lat spread. “Get the fuck away from me!” he hissed, still giving him a wide smile.

Paul’s eyes ran up and down the man’s ripped body, stopping on the growing member in his speedos. “Can I suck you?” he asked. “Or you can rub my tits?”

The bodybuilder relaxed his form and then flexed his muscles into a most muscular pose, his face hitting Paul’s dick as he bent over. “Aww fuck!” he shouted, his cock springing out of his speedo, revealing his dense pubic hair.

“That’s right,” Paul moaned, too horny to object to his actions, “we’re gonna fuck.” He then waddled behind the hairy bodybuilder who now bent all the way over, presenting his bubble butt to Paul. The hairy muscle man kept flexing his arms and pecs as he staying in his bent-over position, cursing to himself.

Paul stood behind him and wasted no time at all to shove his massive cock into the man’s tight hole. He yelled out with pleasure and horror, never actually having fucked a man before this moment. Josh screamed out in pleasure and pain as his virgin hole was invaded by the larger bodybuilder’s cock. He found himself bouncing his fuzzy pecs up and down, unable to stop flexing due to David’s wish.

Paul thrust his pelvis, moving his shaft in and out of Josh’s ass, all the while the two bodybuilders moaned in unison, incredibly turned on the feeling of each other’s muscled bodies grinding against them. Paul felt relieved to have his nipples rub up against Josh’s wide muscled back, making him cum a lot faster than normal. However, with both his forever-hard dick and his increased libido, he immediately began round two without pulling his dick out of Josh.

Josh closed his eyes in orgasmic bliss as his cock began to spray cum all over his hairy body. He lifted his arms above his head subconsciously, trying to do a double biceps pose.

The two bodybuilders fucked in the quad for a good hour, until both of them had came at least five times, Josh’s ass over-flowing with cum. Paul pulled away, immediately beginning to jerk himself off with the sight of Josh in front of him.

“What’s your name Sugar?” he panted.

“Josh. And don’t call me sugar, fag!” Josh yelled as he straightened up, doing an abdominal pose.

Paul felt infuriated that the hairy bodybuilder thought he was gay. “I‘m Paulie!” he yelled. “And I’m gay only because of fucking David!” He moaned as he came for the hundredth time, starting to jerk himself off again.

Josh perked up, flexing his thigh muscles. He turned to face Paul, still being forced to smile by David. “Do you mean that thin little shit David?”

Paul tried to nod, but his chin hit his jutting pecs. “Yea, the sexy thin man. How do you know him Handsome?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“I’m sorry Sweetcheeks,” Paul mumbled, angry even with himself at not being to control what he said for the most part. “David turned me into a horny, gay, bodybuilding slut.”

Josh laughed. “And I thought I had it bad. Is that why you’re jackin’ off even after you fucked me?”

“Permanent hard-on and constant need to play with my tits.” Paul frowned when he realized he was forced to refer to his pecs as tits. He then felt a little glimmer of hope and leaned his mass on Josh, who was doing a back lats pose. “Can you rub my nips for me Baby?”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” Josh muttered, even if he felt a desperate urge to play with Paul’s protruding nipples as they were stuck close to his face.

“Why?” Paul whimpered, sticking his bottom lip out.

“David made it so I have to flex all day, everyday,” Josh answered, doing a side-chest pose.

Paul, desperate to have his nipples rubbed, waddled behind Josh and began to grind on him, letting his massive pecs scratch against Josh’s back. Josh moaned, but continued with his posing as Paul happily humped his new friend to fulfill his sexual need.

Josh was about to ask Paul to stop, but he couldn’t get the words out as his dick, yet again, jumped out of his confining speedo, leaking pre-cum, getting off at the feeling of Paul’s hard nipples and meaty pecs.

The two bodybuilders moaned and felt each other up for a good hour, not noticing the young police officer walk up to them.

Officer Steven Banks was hired by the college to be a part-time security officer, making sure all of the college students weren’t doing any illegal activities on the campus. He usually let his job go to his head, punishing students for underage drinking, then getting drunk on their confiscated alcohol. He had a cute face: blue eyes and a perky nose in the center, not even a blemish anywhere. He still had the body he earned from playing basketball, being a little toned here and there, and managing to stay thin and fit on the force. As he walked up to the two bodybuilders, a look of disgust crossed his face.

“Hey fags!” he shouted at them.

Paul was too deep into his orgasm to speak, barely managing a few grunts here and there. However, Josh looked up, starting another double biceps pose. “That’s us,” he said, horror dawning on him at what he said.

“How about you homos get you’re faggoty asses to class,” Steven smirked, crossing his arms over his navy blue uniform. He wore a tight fitting one that showed off his toned body and a police hat to add to it. He always got pussy whenever in uniform.

Josh looked troubled. He tried to lift his feet to go to class, but David’s magic prevented him from leaving his spot. “Uh, we can’t,” he said, blushing but still smiling. He ran his eyes over the policeman’s body, wishing he were a few pounds more muscular. Imagining a buff cop sent currents of pleasure throughout him and his hairy pecs twitched with desire, making him internally gag.

“Why not?” Officer Steven asked, cocking his eyebrow and feeling sick as Paul came all over Josh’s back.

“I’ll answer that for them,” David said, appearing behind the cop.

A fearful look came into Paul and Josh’s eyes, knowing that something was going to happen, but too horny and scared to warn the policeman.

“Who are you?” Steven asked, a little nervous that David seemed to manifest out of the air.

David ignored him. “Care to explain why you were messing with my boys?”

Steven sneered in his direction. “These fags were practically fucking out here. I had to try to stop them! It’s fucking sick!”

David smirked. “I got another one,” he smiled. “What’s your name?”

“Steven.”

“No,” David shook his head. “You’re name is Flex.”

Steven cocked his eyebrow. “No,” he scoffed. “My name is Flex.” His eyes widened at what came out of his mouth. “My name is Flex. Erm, my name is Flex. What did you do!?”

“Just making a few adjustments to make you more likeable Flex. Now, become aroused whenever you see a male bodybuilder.”

Steven looked down at his bulging crotch as he caught glimpses of Josh and Paul, still rubbing up on each other. Images of bodybuilders ran through his head and soon he was pitching a tent in his uniform.

“Your erect penis is eighteen inches long,” David added, already growing hard with the idea of what he’d do to Steven forming in his head.

Steven moaned as his growing cock burst through his uniform pants, thicker than one of his arms and pointing skywards. His balls inflated to the size of oranges, ripping his boxers to shreds. His dick head rubbed against his chin and he quickly gripped it and ran his tongue all over its surface. Steven screamed inside at what he was doing, but was too horny to even consider stopping.

“Hm,” David thought. “I’ve turned Paul into a slut and Josh into a sasquatch. Let’s make you something else…oh I know, how about a stripper.”

Steven’s eyes nearly bugged out of his skull as he felt his hips gyrating from side to side and his shoulders wiggle seductively. His yell of frustration was muffled by his cock in his mouth.

“Now grow a nice firm bubble butt.”

Steven felt his pants get tighter as his ass filled them out. The seams started to rip and his crack was getting visible at the top. A loud rip was heard as his huge ass comically bubbled out, looking like it went against the laws of physics. It was firm and didn’t jiggle a lot when he moved his hips.

“Now gain two hundred pounds of muscle!”

Steven let out a muffled scream as he felt his body begin to grow. The rest of his pants were ripped to shreds over his growing legs. His feet burst out of his shoes, sliding farther away from each other as his stance widened. The buttons on his uniform began to pop off before the whole thing just tore apart over the broadening shoulders and back. His pecs inflated on his chest, preventing him from seeing his new row of abs. His arms grew larger and his biceps got rounder, representing bowling balls. Steven yelled out for help, but his cries were stopped by his dick, his tongue still sliding over its surface. His light skin tanned and began to glisten, his new muscles covered with oil, gleaming in the afternoon sun.

When his growth was done, Steven was the same size as Josh, only with a larger cock and ass.

David stood in thought for a bit. Steven still wore his policeman hat, that being the only article of clothing left on him. “Grow your pecs some more, by about twenty pounds each.”

Steven looked down in trepidation as his already enormous pectorals ballooned some more, jutting off his chest, even making him slouch forward with the added weight. He saw a nipple ring form on his right tit, and then saw all his body hair pull inwards, leaving him smooth to the touch.

“Now Flex,” David said, feeling satisfied with the stripper, policeman bodybuilder that gyrated his hips and sucked his cock. "You’re gay and get off at the sight of any male bodybuilder. You love to show off your body, never wearing any clothes except for your hat.

"Every night you go out to the gay clubs and show off for the men there, gladly sucking cock as that is your specialty. And instead of eating food, you‘ll get your nutrition from your own cum, which you are addicted to. Whenever you stop sucking your cock, you feel the urge to have someone else‘s in your mouth.

“And if I hear any of you being mean to anyone again, you’ll all gain fifty more pounds of muscle.”

Steven looked like he was about to cry at the end of David’s words. However all he could do was continue to suck himself off and seductively gyrate his body for the other bodybuilders.

“And Paulie,” David said, “because I’m so proud that you made it to school today, I’ll grant you a gift.” David smirked and made a wish.

Paul eagerly looked down at himself, praying to be back in his normal body, but was once again disappointed to see his massive bodybuilding form.

“Oh thank you!” he heard Josh shout out. Josh was still a hairy bodybuilder, but was finally able to stop posing for the day.

“I figured I’d give Josh the day off,” David said. “Paulie, take him and Flex to your place. I think you all should be roommates since you all have a love of bodybuilding and being gay. The three of you go home and fuck each other.”

The sun was setting and Paulie slowly made his way home, waddling at a slow pace, still not used to his new body. It had been a long day, full of sucking off bodybuilders and letting them rub up against his new muscles. All during the process, Paul deep inside had struggled to break free of his new prison, but made no prevail.

Paulie’s cock was still erect, leaking pre-cum and getting off at the feeling of his massive thighs rubbing up against each other and rolling past the other with each step. His arms stayed at their 90-degree stance, stuck there, just resting on his giant lats. Paulie moaned with each step he took, every second spent walking to his apartment only making his orgasm deeper.

Finally Paulie reached the apartment building. His apartment was upstairs on the second story at the very end of the narrow hallway. Paulie found it hard to get into the complex, his enormous shoulders and wide back making it nearly impossible to wedge himself inside. After careful planning, and by using his new 400 pounds to his advantage, he managed to get inside. He opted to take the stairs, scared that he might break the elevator with his ridiculous weight.

Stair after stair pushed him closer to cumming. The climbing motion he did with his thighs caused his sixteen inch monster to bob up and down, sometimes smacking against his abs. “Thi’th su’th,” Paulie grumbled. He even noticed that when he walked on level ground, he moved his bubble ass in a swaying motion, sort of showing it off to everyone. Paul concentrated on walking normally in a straight line, not swinging his hips or shaking his ass from side to side, but David’s magic proved itself to be stronger than his willpower.

Paulie eventually made it inside his apartment, having to squeeze himself into the tight door without ripping the dry-wall apart with his ridiculous pecs. The apartment was the typical bachelor pad of a college student: it was small (one bedroom, one bathroom) and had pizza boxes littering the floor. Here were posters of half-naked women lining the walls, Paul’s favorite being Ke$ha’s Maxim photo shoot. That was his stroke shot that always got the job done. However, as Paulie gazed at the woman on the poster, he was disappointed to see his cock deflate, becoming soft and wilding dangling between his legs.

He sighed. “What you gonna do Paulie?” he asked himself, and then was taken aback. Did I just call myself Paulie? he asked himself. He cleared his throat. Just say your name is Paul.

“My name ith Paulie,” he said in his high, lispy voice. “Aw, th’it.” He groaned and waddled into the bedroom. In there was a stand-up mirror that Paul had always used to check out his whole body before he went out. Before, he’d never had to lean down or anything to get his whole frame in the mirror. However, as Paulie stumbled into the bedroom, he gasped as all he saw was a muscled torso and swinging dick; his back was too wide and prevented his arms from being seen and his new height barely made his pecs visible.

“Thi’th ith bull’thit!” Paulie roared, sounding more like a whine with his new voice. He stalked over to his dresser to see if he could cover up his hated mass with some of his clothes, but it failed. When it came to shirts, he could only fit his head into the hole, but the rest wouldn’t stretch over his broadened shoulders. He couldn’t even manage to get a foot inside one of his pants either. To make it harder, he had to attempt getting dressed using only one hand: his arms were so muscled and couldn’t bend so well that and they would have had to curl around his colossal chest and pecs to get them to work together. It just didn’t happen.

“Oh well,” said Paulie. “I gue’th guy’th ju’th get to th’ee my cock!” Paul was horrified at what came out of his mouth and he almost broke down. Paul would have cried, but Paulie knew no better, preventing the tears from being shed. Instead, he plopped down onto the bed, hearing it groan underneath his weight, and began to jerk off. He had a little trouble grabbing at his dick with his biceps and pecs pushing off each other, but due to the added length of his dick, he was able to grip it near the head and jerk off that portion with both of his meaty hands.

Paulie was so focused on getting himself off that he didn’t notice David wishing himself into his bedroom, where he just stood in the doorway watching the spectacle. “This stone can even teleport, now that’s bitchin’,” he said to himself.

Paulie had came, releasing gallons of cum onto his bed and bedroom floor. Panting, he looked up at David. Paul tried again to plead for forgiveness, but it didn’t work. “What’th up?” Paulie asked, beginning to jerk off again. He felt his cock get rigid with the idea of a man watching him masturbate.

“I was just thinking,” David said, “you were pretty hot when you grew.”

“Oh, th’top it,” Paulie cooed, blushing. Paul screamed inside with frustration. He wanted nothing more than to tear David apart, but the fact that the asshole was making him hard killed him.

David laughed at Paul’s angry eyes. They were narrowed and glared with rage. Apparently that was the only part of his body Paul maintained control of, as was evident by the blissful smile and his beefy hands working his giant cock.

“I thought I’d let you suck me off,” David said.

“Why would I do that?” Paulie asked, Paul managing to skim the barrier of control, but not quite breaking through.

“Because, I’ll return something to you if you do,” David compromised, folding his arms in front of his skinny chest. “That’s my offer.”

Paul felt his body get frisky with the idea of leaving his muscled prison. He lurched his giant form off the bed, ignoring his still hard dick as it waved in the air in front of him. He dropped to his knees with a loud thud in front of David and literally ripped his pants and boxers off his body with one swipe of his beefy hand.

David was already getting hard with the thought of Paul sucking him off. Paul still had his normal head, retaining his handsome jock-looks. He had to admit it, David thought Paul was hot before, even if he had made school a living hell.

Paulie leaned forward and sucked in David’s cock, engulfing it all into his mouth and moaning loudly with the pleasure it brought him. He jerked his head back and forth, working it off and rubbing his tongue all over the shaft. He absentmindedly began to jerk off his own dick with one of his paws.

It didn’t take long for David to cum, and when he did, Paulie eagerly swallowed and leaned back, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. He still played with himself and looked forward to being back to his regular jock self and not being a horny gay bodybuilder for the rest of his life.

“Okay,” David said. “It’s done.”

Paul looked down at his body expectantly, frowning to see nothing but his massive pecs jutting from his chest. “What the fuck man? You said you’d change me back!” he growled. He was so angry at David that it took him a few seconds to realize that he had his normal deep voice back as opposed to high lispy one.

David chuckled. “I only said I’d return something. Now since I like talking to you, I’ll let you control your speech patterns and what you say. However, as soon as you talk to a different man, you won’t be able to control your words. Only because I’m a nice guy, and because you suck cock like a pro I‘ll even let you keep your regular octave twenty-four/seven.” David walked over and patted Paul’s shoulder, making his dick spring up at the feel of another man.

“My name is Paul-erm Paulie,” Paul strained. He looked over at David in shock. “Why can’t I say my name right?”

“Because Paulie, you’re not Paul anymore. And you never will be. This is the new you, get used to it.”

Paul quickly got to his feet and his face turned red in rage. “You motherfucker! I’ll kill you!” he roared as he lunged at David, but his massive thighs got in the way of each other and he tumbled down to the ground, laying flat on his back. He tried to lean forward and get up, but he was still having trouble adjusting to his new weight.

David shook his head disapprovingly. “Paulie, Paulie, Paulie,” he ticked. “You need to learn that I’m in control.” He bent forward and twisted one of Paul’s enlarged nipples, making Paul moan with pleasure and squirt out cum.

“Please,” Paul panted, “turn me back and I promise I’ll never bother you again.” He stared at David with eyes that were a mixture of scared and horny. He couldn’t push aside the gay feelings David made him feel. The thought of any man touching him sent ripples of pleasure throughout his core even if he knew deep down that he never felt that way before.

“No,” David smirked, “and I’m going to have to punish you for trying to attack me. From now on, you’ll be permanently erect and your nipples will always be itching to rubbed.”

A look of despair crossed Paul’s face as his cock lengthened even more and pointed upwards, stuck there. He felt so horny now and tried to grab at it, but was having trouble due to his laying-down position. Then he felt a tingling on his pecs and felt the incredible urge to start rubbing and playing with his nipples. He moved his hands to do so, but his big biceps prevented him from reaching, making the urge grow stronger and uncared for. “I-I can’t reach them!” he whined, desperate to play with his muscle tits. He strained and groaned with anguish as he couldn’t play with himself.

David burst out laughing. “I guess you’ll have to find another way to rub them.” He then turned around and left the room. “Now I’ll leave you to your sleep, see you in class tomorrow, Paulie.” Then with a silent wish, he was out of the apartment.

Paul grunted and managed to pull himself to his feet. He still furtively tried to reach his nipples. Eventually he gave up and waddled over to his bed, wildly swinging his hips, and his erect penis knocking over the items placed on his dresser. “Fuck!” he cried out in anguish. He then collapsed face-down on the bed, breaking its feet, sending the mattress falling to the floor.

Paul’s head didn’t even reach the pillow on the bed: his enormous pecs kept it elevated. His dick was pressed tightly to his abs, making him feel horny just laying there. He tried to ignore the need to rub his enlarged nipples, but the need over took him and he found himself moving his huge body so that his chest rubbed up and down the bed.

Paul loudly moaned, relieved to have his tits rubbed. After a few minutes he came, soaking the mattress he lay on. Paul’s first instinct was to stop his awkward masturbation technique then and go to sleep, but instead his libido had other plans.

Paul spent the entire night in this fashion: rubbing his pecs along the mattress, all the while his hard-on got pinned to his chest.

Josh sat around surrounded by his usual fan club of horny girls desperate to feel his swimmer body. He had made it to the college on a scholarship, thus creating an aura of arrogance about him. Every morning he woke up extra early to apply hair remover to his entire body (minus his head which had a preppy style). He would then work out for a while and go off to class.

He always made it a point to tease the football players, referring to them as the gorillas due to their big and hairy bodies. David was forced to sit behind him in English, listening to him pick on Zack for having wisps of chest hair escape the collar of his shirt. “Fucking Sasquatch is here to promote diversity, I guess,” he had mumbled. That had actually angered David a little bit because Zack had been nice enough to share his physics notes with him.

“'Sup Josh?” David said as he walked up to the popular jock.

Josh stopped sucking some Asian girl’s face to look at the skinny nerd who had the balls to interrupt his make-out session. “What do you want?” he asked, jerking his head at the girl to indicate he was busy at the moment.

“You and I are the only people out here right now,” David said. Then all the other students and the Asian girl left the campus quad. They all went indoors, as if they had something to do all at the same time.

Josh looked around confused. “Uh? How’d you do that?”

David smiled. “Do you know Zack?” he asked.

Josh nodded. “The hairy guy. Yea. What about him?” He looked around nervously.

“Well, let’s just say you and him have the same body hair.”

Josh scoffed. Then he scratched at his polo shirt that seemed to itch a little bit. “What the-?” He looked down in shock at the poofs of hair curling over his collar. “What the fuck?!” he yelled out.

“You’re only in your speedo,” David smiled, eager to see another jock blow up.

Josh felt a breeze pass over his body as he saw that he was only in his blue speedo he wore on swim meets. His swimmer’s body was now ruined by all the body hair that covered his legs and arms. He was focused primarily on his chest though, rubbing disgusted hands over the black forest there. “I’m a swimmer!” he cried out. “This could ruin me!” It would take forever to shave all this wiry hair off. Even some of his pubes poked out of the speedo, making Josh gag.

“Don’t worry,” David said. “You’ll enjoy showing off your new body soon.”

“What?”

“You’re going to gain two-hundred pounds of solid muscle,” David said.

“Fuck yoOUU!” Josh yelled, his voice cracking as he felt wave after wave of pleasure hit him. His feet lengthened, growing longer and wider so that they would be able to support his new mass. Josh looked down in fear at his huge feet. He lifted one in front of him disbelief. Then his calf inflated, followed by his thigh, forcing him to put his leg back to the ground.

David smiled as he saw the speedo get tighter around Josh’s growing frame. Josh’s dick hardened and grew a few inches, but was able to be concealed in his speedo, which had the back riding up the new ass muscles.

“Stop,” Josh moaned as he felt his hairy chest start to tingle with the growth. He pressed his hands on top of his pecs, actually trying to hold them down to prevent the growth. Of course he failed, his giant pecs just growing underneath his hands, becoming all the more visible as they became larger and rounder, stretching out his protruding nipples.

Josh’s arms exploded into muscle, making them hard to bend past ninety degrees, effectively ending his swimming career. His shoulders broadened and a slight stubble formed on his now-square chin.

“How-?” Josh stammered in disbelief as he flexed a bicep that was as round as a bowling ball. He wasn’t as big as Paul had grown, but he was definitely bigger than most pro heavy-weight bodybuilders David had ever seen. He was also a lot hairier, each muscle covered by a dense sprinkling of black hair.

“Now Josh,” David said as he walked up and ran an admiring hand over the muscled stud’s hairy pecs. “You’re extremely turned on by men, especially other bodybuilders.”

“Other bodybuilders?” Josh scoffed. “I ain’t no fucking bodybuilder! Now change me back!”

“Sure you’re a bodybuilder. I mean just look at you.” David patted one of Josh’s new broad shoulders. There was no way Josh could wear anything besides a speedo now unless he got his clothes specially made.

Josh gagged again as he searched his body with disbelieving hands. He saw David open his mouth to say something again, but decided to run off. He lifted a heavy leg and was disappointed to see his run reduced to a waddle.

“Yeah, no more walking for you. You’ll always have to say waddle from now on. And you never shave your body or wear anything except a speedo,” David smirked, taking pleasure in seeing Josh’s humiliation. He felt hard now watching the hairy muscle man struggle to walk away, his giant thighs making it difficult to lift his leg.

Josh shook his head, actually rubbing his face up against his giant trap muscles. “No!” he shouted. “I’m a swimmer! Not some fucking fag bodybuilder!”

David frowned. “I think you’re in denial there Josh. Maybe if you do what a bodybuilder does then you’ll accept who you are.”

“I’m not taking steroids!” Josh yelled, giving up on his escape. He turned to face David, deciding to use his new body to destroy the little man, even if he turned him on a little bit.

“That’s not what I meant,” David said. “You’re going to pose.”

Josh felt himself left his arms to do a double bicep pose. He gazed in horror at the ridiculous size of his arms.

David went on. “From sun up to sun down, you’ll stay in one place out in public showing off your muscles by performing poses. When the sun sets and it’s night, then you can go and do your own gay muscle boy thing.”

Josh screamed out in agony as he tried to stop posing his muscular body.

“Oh yea, and everyone accepts you as this. And hey, maybe you can look up Paul.” David walked off to English class, leaving Josh alone in the quad as he leaned forward to do a most muscular, a smile being forced on his face as David wished for him to look like he was having a great time.

David made his way over to the beach, deciding to take advantage of the hot temperature. The news station had said that it was supposed to remain in the nineties all week, possibly even hitting one-hundred. He was new to LA, from El Paso. He was used to the hot weather, but not the beach. Seeing that expanse of ocean and beach-goers always put him in awe.

The beach was crowded, full of half-naked people tanning and swimming. He looked over at the crowd of people, seeing the buff men laying out in the sun in their swimming-trunks, smiling to himself. It was so worth coming here for college, he thought.

David made his way over to the water, wearing board shorts and a shirt. He was rather skinny and didn’t feel like showing off his ribs to California’s hottest men and women, knowing that they’d all laugh at him, like Paul had done.

Yesterday in English, Paul had made David the laughing-stock of the class by calling him Skeletor and saying he was manorexic. David clenched his fists in anger at the memory of that. He wasn’t a violent person and he never let his emotions get the best of him, but Paul had definitely pissed him off the other day.

Paul was a jock who had gotten into college on a baseball scholarship. He had a nice toned body: not too muscular, but not too skinny either. All the girls in class drooled over his ice blue eyes and his cropped black hair, some swearing he was sent by God. Well David knew better. Paul was of the devil, sent to Earth to bug the shit of people.

David stomped on the beach now, his anger affecting him even more. He trudged into the water, making big splashes around his legs. The cool water calmed him down and he submerged himself in it, enjoying the feeling of being weightless. After a while, he got out and sat out in the sand.

Again, David felt his anger rise at Paul again.

“Stupid asshole,” he muttered under his breath.

“Excuse me?” an old woman asked as she was walking behind him. She accidentally thought David had directed the insult towards her.

“Oh,” David blushed. “I’m sorry ma’am, I wasn’t saying that to you.”

The lady looked a little off. She was fully dressed and everything was black. Her silver hair gleamed in the sun and her eyes looked glazed over with age. “Oh, no problem,” she mumbled. She was about to walk away, but looked at David in his anger and then sat beside him. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?” she asked.

David looked at her and cocked his eyebrow. Why would this stranger care about what was bothering him?

“Name’s Margo,” she said. “And I’ve been known to help people a lot when they have a problem.”

David sighed. “You won’t really think it’s important.”

“Try me.”

“Well,” David began, “there’s this guy…”

“And he broke your heart.” Margo finished, sounding like she knew all about what David was talking about.

“What?!” David cried, shocked. “I’m not gay! Well, okay, I am. But I hate this guy!”

“Oh,” Margo said. “My bad. Carry on. Why do you hate him?”

“He keeps making fun of me, my body figure mainly.”

A look of disgust covered Margo’s face. She shook her head in disapproval. “I hate when assholes do that. Really immature.”

David smiled back at her. It was really nice to have someone on his side for a change. When Paul makes fun of him, no one stands up for him. They are either laughing with Paul, or too afraid of him to say anything. “Thanks for saying so.”

Margo stood up and brushed the sand off her clothes. “Well, I best get going. Thanks for chatting with me.”

“No problem,” David said, looking up at his new friend, a little sad to have her go and leave him all alone so soon.

Margo reached into her pocket and pulled out a small stone. It was yellow-pink and gleamed when the sun radiated off its polished surface. “Here,” she said, handing the stone to David.

David took it and eyed it suspiciously. “Uhh, thanks?”

Margo chuckled. “I thought the same thing when it was given to me. That’s a magical stone. All you need to do and is hold it in your right hand and say a command, and then whatever you said will come true. I figure you have a good head on your shoulders, so I think it’ll be of use to you.”

David cocked his eyebrow. Okay, so maybe this lady was a little crazy or on drugs. “Okay. Thank you.”

Margo smiled and walked off, most likely to score more rock.

David sighed and laid back on the sand, the rock in his hand. He rubbed his fingers over it and decided to humor himself by making a command. “Rain,” he uttered under his breath so that no one else would hear and think he was crazy.

Immediately David felt drops of water hit his face. The clear sky clouded up and turned gray, releasing millions of water drops to the ground. David sat upright and stared in wonder at the rock in his hands. “Stop raining,” he said in disbelief.

David looked up at the now-clear sky and shining sun. He looked around at the fellow beach-goers who were mirroring his confused look. “Make them forget about that,” he said.

A wave of amnesia washed over the beach as everyone else there stopped gazing at the sky in wonder and resumed their usual activities.

A wave of power surged through David as he realized he could do anything he wanted with his new magic! Margo wasn’t a senile psycho after all!

“Pussy!” a man roared. David looked in the direction of the voice and saw a tall man standing over his smaller friend. The smaller man had missed a football thrown at him, causing the opposing team to win the game. The larger man was red with anger and towered over the smaller one, asserting his power and masculinity.

What a dick, David thought. A guy like that needed to be humbled. He thought for a second and smirked as an idea came into his head. “Make him piss himself,” he whispered.

The large man twitched a little and a wet spot appeared on his board shots. He looked down in shock and up at the smaller man who was in hysterics, laughing at the man’s humiliation. The larger man blushed and ran out, embarrassed. He ran with his hands covering the pee stain all the way over to the water to submerge himself and even out the wet marks.

David laughed to himself.

“What’s up Bones?” he heard an all-too-familiar voice say behind him.

David turned his head and saw Paul looming over him, a cocky smirk on his face. He was wearing black board shorts and a red t-shirt that said “I Love Boobies” on it.

David smiled back, knowing his revenge was just a few seconds away. “How’s it going Paul?” he asked.

Paul nodded to himself. “You trying to suck up to me so I won’t break your tooth-pick ass in half?” He crossed his arms in front of him. He was about to kick sand in David’s face when a look of pure hatred plastered his own. “Fag,” he coughed.

David looked around in time to see an amateur bodybuilder walk by them wearing a pair of speedos. The bodybuilder was actually straight for he was walking towards a girl who was blowing him kisses.

“Uh, no he’s got a girl,” David corrected.

Paul shook his head. “Only fags would want to look like that and wear those skimpy clothes. Fucking freaks.” He then spit in the sand, all too close to David.

Okay, it’s now or never, David thought. “Make no one notice me or Paul for a few hours,” David said, a little too loud.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Paul asked, annoyed by David’s weird attitude. “Do you have to talk to yourself because no one else will listen?” Once again, a cocky smile came on his face and he looked down on David as if he were a lower life-form.

David just laughed. “Make Paul wear a speedo.” He then laughed as all the clothes on Paul’s body disappeared, only leaving a black speedo on his body. His chest was toned as well as his arms. There wasn’t a lot of body hair, just under his arm pits and the happy trail at his belly button.

Paul looked down in disbelief at what he was wearing. “What the fuck?!” he shouted. He moved his hands to cover himself and then glared at David. “You son of a bitch!”

“Stay in your tracks,” David quickly stuttered before Paul could attack.

Paul stopped where he was and tried to move his feet, but it seemed as if they were glued to the beach. He finally stopped trying to get free and looked at David with apprehension. “What are you going to do to me?” he worriedly asked.

David smirked. “You’re going to pay for making fun of me,” he smiled. “Now, rub and pinch your nipples.”

A look of horror came on Paul’s face as his arms subconsciously lifted up and his hands took hold of his nipples. His fingers squeezed and rubbed the sensitive areas and he found himself almost getting hard. The terror he felt during the whole predicament prevented him from obtaining a full-on boner.

David shook his head. “That’ll be no good,” he said. “I could make you accept this so that you get wood, but I like watching you scared. So therefore, I’m going to have to think for a little bit. Oh I’ve got it: become totally aroused whenever you see a man.”

Paul’s mouth dropped in shock and as he looked at David, he felt his dick harden, pulling on the stretchy material of his speedos. His hands still worked his nipples, which were becoming harder with each second. “Please! David! Stop this!”

“No, your humiliation isn’t over yet,” David scoffed. “I want your speedo to become an extra-small poser.”

Paul looked down as his speedo shrank, exposing the sides of his hard-on. The back of the posers rode up his ass crack and his dick popped out, for all to see. Pre-cum began to leak out as Paul continued to play with his nipples. “Why are you doing this?” he cried out.

“You know why. Now, grow two feet taller.”

Paul felt his body stretch from his original height of 5’10’’ to 7’10’'. He looked down at his body, seeing that he seemed to grow proportionally, not losing or gaining any weight or muscle. He looked over at David, terror in his eyes. “Please,” he begged. “Let me go.”

“Tell me how much you weigh Paul,” David ordered.

“167 pounds,” Paul mechanically answered. His legs began to tremble as he reached his orgasm from rubbing his nipples and looking at David.

“Well, since you seemed so hateful of that bodybuilder, more than me I may add, I think your punishment should be more around his alley…or something like that.” David’s full-blown smile opposed Paul’s fearful face.

“N-no!” he stuttered. “I need my body the way it is now so I can keep my scholarship!”

“School’s gonna be a thing of the past.”

“Why?” Paul whimpered.

“You’ll see. Now, I want your new weight to be 400 pounds. All the newly added weight will be pure muscle.”

“No!” Paul shrieked, but it was too late. He felt a tingling sensation and fearfully looked down at his rapidly growing body. His calves exploded, turning from looking regularly toned to footballs. The growth went up to his thighs, which became so large that they pushed each other away and Paul’s stance widened.

His ass bubbled out, ripping the poser to shreds, leaving his hard, leaking dick on display for the whole beach to see. His waist remained the same size, but his abs shoved their way out, becoming an impressive cobblestone of muscle on his torso. His pecs ballooned out, stretching his nipples out, making it easier to rub them all over.

Paul moaned with pleasure as he rubbed his large nipples, but then his arms and lats began to inflate, making it harder to bend his arms. His biceps got so big that he couldn’t bend them anymore and he whimpered with despair as he couldn’t pleasure himself anymore. His back widened along with his shoulders, making his head look like it had shrank. Huge traps formed near his neck, so much that his neck didn’t look like it was there for a while.

David stood back and smiled, seeing Paul turn into this giant muscle man. Once the growth was finished, Paul looked down at his body, not being to see it well as his massive pecs blocked his view. “What did you do to me?!” he cried out. His cock was running like a faucet with all the cum flowing out.

“Hmmm,” David thought. “Let me help you with that. Your cock will be sixteen inches long when hard and as wide as a beer can.”

Paul’s member elongated to the monster that David had described, now releasing more cum.

“Please! Change me back!”

“Nope!” David laughed. “Pose for me.”

“I don’t know how!” Paul whined, but he felt his muscles start to flex. He leaned forward and did a most muscular, feeling his chest and arm muscles flex with power. He felt horrified that he couldn’t stop and even more horrified that he was still hard. He was upright again and then broke out in a double biceps pose.

“Okay, here we go Paul, let’s lay down some rules,” David said. “Since you look so hot in your body, I’ll let you go to school still.”

“I can’t go like this!” Paul cried out, doing a side-chest pose. His face turned red as he tried to stop his massive form from showing off. He failed of course, his body continuing to flex.

“Nonsense. No one will think it’s weird you look like this, or walk around naked. In fact, they’ll think this is the normal you.”

“N-naked?”

David nodded. “It’d be a shame to not show off your smooth body.” With that, all the body hair on Paul pulled inwards, leaving him completely shaven. “And I’ll increase your libido by about 100%, and make it so that you’re only attracted to muscle men.”

Paul’s eyes looked terrified. He felt his hormones raging and hornyness spread throughout out his muscled body, especially as he felt his biceps rubbing against his lats. His dick felt like it was made out of iron now. While flexing his bicep, he reached down with his other hand and began to fondle himself, horrified at what he was doing, but too horny to stop.

“Now, I’m going to make you act like a stereotypical gay man, but deep inside you’ll always be Paul: the homophobic asshole who hates what’s he’s become. But on the outside, everyone knows you as Paulie. You may be released now.”

A look of contented dimness spread on Paul’s face and he broke out in a smile, still playing with himself. His eyes darted back and forth, expressing his fear. He tried to beg David again, but as soon as he opened his mouth all that could come out was “Mmm, I want to th’uck cock th’o bad!” He said it in a high feminine voice and he winced deep down inside at its sound.

David made it so that people would notice them again. “Paul,” he said.

“My name’th Paulie. Get it right baby,” Paulie corrected, trying to put his hands on his hips, but failing due to his biceps pushing off his lats. Paul screamed inside at the way he was acting.

“My bad,” David said. “I just wanted to let you know that the bodybuilder in the red speedo over there is gay and begging to have his cock sucked.” He pointed over at the bodybuilder by the water, who felt his new need take over him and look around desperately for someone to suck him off.

“Beth’t not keep him waitin’,” Paulie sang out as he waddled over to the guy. His massive thighs rolled over each other and his huge arms swung out by his side. Paul desperately tried to stop walking, but his need to suck the bodybuilder’s cock took over his new body and before he knew it, he was on his knees with a cock in his mouth.

David sat down and watched the whole scene carry out. How fitting, he thought.

The rest of the week, even though Evan was around Jerry fairly often, he never managed to regain enough control over this persona to force work the curse upon him--mostly because now that he was a coach, and just as much of a bigot and homophobe as Jerry, they were fast friends and comrades in arms. Evan would always have Jerry’s back, no matter what--after all, the school was on a militant streak, faggots were on every corner, and what, they were just supposed to let this school fall into moral decay? They didn’t have much power beyond the athletic programs, but they sure as hell weren’t about to let the young men under their watch be anything less than real men. If that meant sliding rape accusations under the rug, what harm was there really? Both him and Jerry had “raped” girls back in college by these new standards, anyway. Boys would be boys, after all.

Deep down, Evan--the real Evan--struggled against the pull of this awful person he’d become, and he secretly suspected that the curse was punishing him for going so long without the curse activating. If he was going to try and live as normal a life as he could, he was, apparently, going to have to suffer as a homophobe longer in exchange. At long last, at the end of the week, he got his chance, at the monthly poker game Jerry held at his home for all of the coaches on the team--six men in total, and no wives allowed. They would smoke cigars, drink scotch, bullshit about the team, and usually had a good time...but as Evan got drunker, he felt the curse’s homophobic hold on his tongue loosen--and he made his play.

“Hey, Jerry, get me another glass of scotch, would you?” he said.

Jerry hated having to play waiter--he considered it a woman’s job. On poker nights, he expected the men to all serve themselves. “Get it yourself, what, are your legs broken?”

“Bitch, I said get your fat ass up, and bring me another glass of scotch,” Evan sneered at him, feeling the curse’s built up energy stream into his target...and fuck, it felt good. Evan’s cock hardened immediately, as he watched the shock in Jerry’s face turn to confusion, and he got up, adjusting his shirt as his small paunch began to expand against the polo shirt he was wearing. All of the other coaches just stared, not at all sure what they should say...or if this was some joke or prank the two of them were playing on the rest of the staff. Jerry...never served anyone, after all. But he got the scotch in silence, and then brought it back, and set it down beside Evan.

“Now, what do you say?” Evan asked him in the same cold voice.

“E-Excuse me?”

“You worthless piece of faggot shit, what do you fucking say for talking back to a superior man?” Evan shouted at him, spittle flying from him, and he could feel his frame expanding with muscle as he did, voice dropping, beard filling out and turning whiter.

“S-Sorry sir...” Jerry said, his voice quiet and meek...and the rest of him was changing as well, his polo shrinking as he grew fatter until it tore away, leaving him wearing nothing other than a leather collar around his neck. In a couple of moments, he was completely naked, aside from the collar--that, and a metal cage around his cock. The other coaches were trying to process what they were seeing, but all of them were starting to change as well, growing burlier, hairier, and hornier. None of them became gay--but all of them sneered at the old, fat faggot slave Evan had found somewhere. The faggot who had begged him for the honor to serve them during their monthly poker game.

“On your knees, and open your dirty mouth,” Evan said, and Jerry obeyed without a second thought. Evan rolled the cinder of his cigar over the slave’s tongue, his cock throbbing as the faggot moaned in delight. “Don’t even know how to punish you, given how much you like having me and all my friends beat your ass to bits, you masochistic pervert.”

“Thank you sir, it’s an honor to serve you, always, please, abuse me however you want, I’ll do anything to serve my alpha masters.”

“Then get over here and polish my boots, cocksucker,” Hawke said on the other side of the table, leering around his cigar. The beard and the muscle looked...damn good on him, but Evan quashed that thought. He liked his friends plenty, but not like that--sure, he might use a faggot like this sorry piece of shit on occasion, mostly because of how pitiful they all were. Especially Jerry, who he had to admit was his favorite one to beat on. But Evan wasn’t a queer--he was a rough, abusive fucker, and he’d take whatever hole he wanted to--faggot or bitch. It just so happened that he tended to prefer faggots, not that he’d ever tell anyone that.

The rest of the evening was eventful in many ways. Jerry licked clean everyone’s boots, served as the communal ashtray, and when he got sick and puked the ash up after an hour, Evan shoved the old faggot’s fat face into it and made him eat it back up off the floor, thinking about how hard he was going to pound this pig’s hole after all of this friend’s left. Jerry wanted the fuck just as much as he did though--he begged for it, and Evan made him work for it--lashing him for every mistake he’d made during the evening, real or imagined, before finally plowing his hole with his nine inch cock. Afterwards, the faggot had the audacity to ask Evan when he might be able to cum again--and Evan responded by riveting the cage shut then and there. As far as he was concerned, no faggot was worthy of that kind of pleasure. Faggots like Jerry were meant to serve after all, and that was all the reminder he needed, that his old, worthless cock wasn’t worth his attention. Then, Evan sent him on his way.

Alone again, with himself, Evan was shaking with terror. He...couldn’t believe he’d just done that to someone--and that he’d enjoyed it more than anything in his life. The curse was ebbing slightly--if he focused, he’d probably be able to shift back...but he liked this power, too. Head coach by day; abusive cigar master by night--he could get used to this, probably, if he wasn’t careful, but the curse was whispering to him, telling him not to mind that too much. He should allow himself a bit of indulgence before going back--after all, there were so many people who deserved punishment, right?

The rest of the week, even though Evan was around Jerry fairly often, he never managed to regain enough control over this persona to force work the curse upon him--mostly because now that he was a coach, and just as much of a bigot and homophobe as Jerry, they were fast friends and comrades in arms. Evan would always have Jerry’s back, no matter what--after all, the school was on a militant streak, faggots were on every corner, and what, they were just supposed to let this school fall into moral decay? They didn’t have much power beyond the athletic programs, but they sure as hell weren’t about to let the young men under their watch be anything less than real men. If that meant sliding rape accusations under the rug, what harm was there really? Both him and Jerry had “raped” girls back in college by these new standards, anyway. Boys would be boys, after all.

Deep down, Evan--the real Evan--struggled against the pull of this awful person he’d become, and he secretly suspected that the curse was punishing him for going so long without the curse activating. If he was going to try and live as normal a life as he could, he was, apparently, going to have to suffer as a homophobe longer in exchange. At long last, at the end of the week, he got his chance, at the monthly poker game Jerry held at his home for all of the coaches on the team--six men in total, and no wives allowed. They would smoke cigars, drink scotch, bullshit about the team, and usually had a good time...but as Evan got drunker, he felt the curse’s homophobic hold on his tongue loosen--and he made his play.

“Hey, Jerry, get me another glass of scotch, would you?” he said.

Jerry hated having to play waiter--he considered it a woman’s job. On poker nights, he expected the men to all serve themselves. “Get it yourself, what, are your legs broken?”

“Bitch, I said get your fat ass up, and bring me another glass of scotch,” Evan sneered at him, feeling the curse’s built up energy stream into his target...and fuck, it felt good. Evan’s cock hardened immediately, as he watched the shock in Jerry’s face turn to confusion, and he got up, adjusting his shirt as his small paunch began to expand against the polo shirt he was wearing. All of the other coaches just stared, not at all sure what they should say...or if this was some joke or prank the two of them were playing on the rest of the staff. Jerry...never served anyone, after all. But he got the scotch in silence, and then brought it back, and set it down beside Evan.

“Now, what do you say?” Evan asked him in the same cold voice.

“E-Excuse me?”

“You worthless piece of faggot shit, what do you fucking say for talking back to a superior man?” Evan shouted at him, spittle flying from him, and he could feel his frame expanding with muscle as he did, voice dropping, beard filling out and turning whiter.

“S-Sorry sir...” Jerry said, his voice quiet and meek...and the rest of him was changing as well, his polo shrinking as he grew fatter until it tore away, leaving him wearing nothing other than a leather collar around his neck. In a couple of moments, he was completely naked, aside from the collar--that, and a metal cage around his cock. The other coaches were trying to process what they were seeing, but all of them were starting to change as well, growing burlier, hairier, and hornier. None of them became gay--but all of them sneered at the old, fat faggot slave Evan had found somewhere. The faggot who had begged him for the honor to serve them during their monthly poker game.

“On your knees, and open your dirty mouth,” Evan said, and Jerry obeyed without a second thought. Evan rolled the cinder of his cigar over the slave’s tongue, his cock throbbing as the faggot moaned in delight. “Don’t even know how to punish you, given how much you like having me and all my friends beat your ass to bits, you masochistic pervert.”

“Thank you sir, it’s an honor to serve you, always, please, abuse me however you want, I’ll do anything to serve my alpha masters.”

“Then get over here and polish my boots, cocksucker,” Hawke said on the other side of the table, leering around his cigar. The beard and the muscle looked...damn good on him, but Evan quashed that thought. He liked his friends plenty, but not like that--sure, he might use a faggot like this sorry piece of shit on occasion, mostly because of how pitiful they all were. Especially Jerry, who he had to admit was his favorite one to beat on. But Evan wasn’t a queer--he was a rough, abusive fucker, and he’d take whatever hole he wanted to--faggot or bitch. It just so happened that he tended to prefer faggots, not that he’d ever tell anyone that.

The rest of the evening was eventful in many ways. Jerry licked clean everyone’s boots, served as the communal ashtray, and when he got sick and puked the ash up after an hour, Evan shoved the old faggot’s fat face into it and made him eat it back up off the floor, thinking about how hard he was going to pound this pig’s hole after all of this friend’s left. Jerry wanted the fuck just as much as he did though--he begged for it, and Evan made him work for it--lashing him for every mistake he’d made during the evening, real or imagined, before finally plowing his hole with his nine inch cock. Afterwards, the faggot had the audacity to ask Evan when he might be able to cum again--and Evan responded by riveting the cage shut then and there. As far as he was concerned, no faggot was worthy of that kind of pleasure. Faggots like Jerry were meant to serve after all, and that was all the reminder he needed, that his old, worthless cock wasn’t worth his attention. Then, Evan sent him on his way.

Alone again, with himself, Evan was shaking with terror. He...couldn’t believe he’d just done that to someone--and that he’d enjoyed it more than anything in his life. The curse was ebbing slightly--if he focused, he’d probably be able to shift back...but he liked this power, too. Head coach by day; abusive cigar master by night--he could get used to this, probably, if he wasn’t careful, but the curse was whispering to him, telling him not to mind that too much. He should allow himself a bit of indulgence before going back--after all, there were so many people who deserved punishment, right?

Evan thought about changing back. He even started to, for a moment, but something else welled up in him, something he could only describe as a great exhaustion. So he’d turn back, and then what? He’d be back to his old self, more or less, with a third whore obsessed with him, and sure, he might be straight acting enough that he could get away without another slur, but the curse would always drag him back, somehow. He could feel it. And then he’d be back in some new nightmare--but what if he didn’t go back? What if he just said screw it, and...and just gave in?

He couldn’t believe he was actually contemplating it. Giving up. Living...like this. The spirit lingered around him, a fog on his mind, coaxing him along, seeing if he would do it. He didn’t want to be this though. He didn’t want to be this person. He could tell, somehow, that he would only inflict more pain on others like this, other guys on the team, other guys at the college. How was this better? How was he solving anything by simply taking Jerry’s place as the asshole in charge? There had to be something he could do. He couldn’t let this thing win.

He didn’t know where the idea came from, if it was his, or if the spirit whispered it into his mind. It was a terrible idea. A nightmarish idea...but he couldn’t ignore the simple brutality of it--but would it even work? No, there was no way it would work. Hand shaking, he poured himself more scotch, but his mind wouldn’t let the idea go. It was the only way--the only way he could make sure he didn’t hurt anyone else ever again--that this curse would end here for good. He drank more scotch, enough to dull himself, trying to bury himself back under the coach, mack under the homophobe, but he was terrified, all the same. Unable to contemplate it anymore, he decided he simply had to do it--he threw on a coat, and slipped out into the night, making his way towards the campus.

It was a Friday night, and the parties were still going strong. Evan made his way to Delta Kappa Alpha, widely considered the jock frat, and the most homophobic one on campus--one which had, on a few occasions, sent kids to the hospital, not that any of the jocks had ever faced punishment for it. It made him angry, which was good. He was going to need lots and lots of anger for what was coming next. He went inside, and began insulting every member of the frat he could find.

He started simple--turning them into faggots, the women in the house all disappearing one by one as the young men lost interest in them, and became far more interested in each other--and in Evan. But he didn’t make them weak. He didn’t fuck them. They needed to be strong. They needed to be brutes. He made them thugs and skinheads. Brutal biker tops and leather queens. All of them addicted to sex, the rougher and meaner the better. Sadists, rapists, abusers--he hurled out everything he could think of, until one of them had had enough, slammed Evan into the wall, and started fucking his hole raw. He demanded more. He wanted them to make it hurt. He wanted them to show him what they did to homophobic assholes like him.

Part of him was horrified and disgusted by what was happening to him, but another part of him was enjoying it. That new part urged them on, told them to use him as their urinal and cum dump, told them that they didn’t see him as a person at all, but as a gimp, a pig, a slave, an object, a whore. He said it over and over again, he said it so much he found himself believing it, as the gang dragged him down into the basement of the now condemned building they used as their hangout, where they brought the homophobes they bashed on the street to be reeducated and repurposed.

They beat him. They fisted him. They shaved him bald, and then stripped the rest of his hair off too. Pissed on him, made him clean out their holes, made him beg for their cocks, and he tried to squeeze that last little homophobic part of him out, but it remained, burning at the core of him, horrified at what he was doing, but it was too late to turn back now. He was marked. Tattooed all over his body, pierced everywhere as well. In his memories he’d lived down here for months, if not a year, brutalized by these men--and he’d grown to enjoy it. Relish it. Beg for it--because he deserved it. He deserved it for all the times he’d been cruel, and bashed queers with his friends. He deserved all of it, and would deserve it for the rest of his life too.

Dawn came, and the gang grew tired, slipping away to their homes, another enjoyable night spent working over one of their favorite straight slaves. They locked him back in his cage, and Evan shivered, exhausted--there was a kernel of himself still, deep inside, but it was so small...he was scared now. Terrified of what he’d done to himself. He grasped for it, tried to rekindle it. He didn’t want to stay here--even if he had started to believe he might deserve it.

It took most of the day, down in that basement, to remember himself. To crawl back out of this, to remember who he’d been--or at least pieces of it. Everything was so...jumbled up. High school, college, middle age. Had he been a jock? A coach? Working in construction or on a farm? He didn’t know how to piece it back together, but he had to. He had to be something else, if he was going to get out of here in one piece.

What did he remember? Everything was so hazy now, it seemed impossible to remember a world beyond this basement, beyond the torture and rape he was subjected to daily, which he’d grown to crave...but there had been something else. He thought about the sun. He could remember it, the sensation of it on his skin, and he clung to that, trying to piece together when he’d last felt it. Sound came next, the sound of hammer and machinery. The smell of pouring concrete and sawdust. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and he clung to it, reached for it, even as the spirit in his mind tried to tempt him away from it, tried to tell him he didn’t really want that, that what he really craved was down here, in the dark. Evan was tenacious, and the spirit was...not angry, but perturbed that he refused to give into its darkness, and so it opened up a bit further, the memory, and more came to him in a flurry.

The smell of cigars. He remembered that for sure. They were cheap ones--he didn’t make enough for anything fancy after all, and at the rate he smoked them, he cared more about quantity than quality. Other smells too--mostly his own. His unwashed pits, dirty socks and underwear, his farts and belches, and just thinking about them was getting him horny--but then, he loved the smell of a dirty man more than pretty much anything else. But something else too--or maybe...someone else. They were a bit blurry, but getting clearer, the more he thought about them, the more he could smell them, and see them, and--

***BRRAAAP***

Evan gave a start, and flung an arm up as he woke up from a nightmare he’d been having in his grungy armchair, with Robbie inches from his face, mouth still open from the belch he’d launched right into Evan’s face. He could smell it--and he could smell Robbie too, and he felt his cock shudder underneath his heavy gut, hanging over his crotch in the recliner. “Fuckin’ hell Robbie, I was sleepin’!”

“Ya were snorin’ so dang loud I couldn’t hear the damn TV is what ya were doin’!” Robbie said, and then leaned in closer and kissed him, his mouth tasting of beer, salty snacks...and something else that Evan recognized, but couldn’t quite name for some reason. He was more than happy to kiss him back of course--he loved his little sleazebag of a roommate, or boyfriend, or whatever they were.

They’d met on a construction job a few years prior, and hit it off as friends until one drunken night, they’d come onto one another. It had only been a matter of time before they moved in together, and while they were on the down low, everyone could guess what the two of them were up to. No one gave them too much shit for it, though neither of them had been a very good influence on the other. Robbie now smoked cigars like a chimney, just like Evan, and Robbie had introduced Evan to other, filthier delights. Food, for one thing. He was a hundred pounds heavier now, than when he’d met Robbie, and he hadn’t been small before. Now he was 375 pounds, and while it made work hard, having Robbie clean out all of his filthy rolls every night in bed more than made up for it.

Then, Evan felt a flash in his mind. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t right at all. He hadn’t been this person, had he? Robbie pulled away, and Evan hauled himself out of the recliner, trying to piece together his memories, but it was a struggle. “Ya alright man?”

“Yeah, just...just gimmie a minute,” Evan said, “Just...gonna get a snack.”

“I can get one for ya.”

“I’d rather stretch my legs a sec.”

Robbie shrugged, and plopped back down on the sofa with a loud fart, and Evan retreated behind him, not to the kitchen, but to the bathroom to look at himself--but when he got there, he was...horrified. The shower didn’t have a shower head, and didn’t look like it had been turned on in ages. The toilet--there simply wasn’t one. He found himself sliding back, remembering how Robbie had convinced him, finally, to just...take it out. They didn’t need one, after all, they had each other.

In the mirror, he saw himself--sloppily shaved head with a thick beard hiding three chins. He was wearing a grubby, heavily stained wife beater and some no longer white briefs...and he thought he looked...hot. The spirit was pushing harder now--and Evan could sense it wasn’t just trying to get him to accept this life--but forget everything else. More than anything else, though, he was tired. Maybe he should stop. Maybe he should just...accept this, and live with it. HIs gut growled, and he thought about having a snack, and then Robbie would feed him one of his special weight gain shakes before bed, always with his favorite ingredients...

Evan slapped himself, trying to force himself out of it. The curse was still active, he could get out of this. All he had to do was find someone to insult him. After all, anything would be better than this, right? He went to the bedroom, found a pair of overalls and some boots, and threw them on as quick as he could, before Robbie noticed what he was doing. He couldn’t explain this after all--Robbie would never believe him. So he slipped out of the apartment Without an explanation, and didn’t dare stop once he hit the sidewalk, even though he was winded by the time he got to the corner.

It was late in the evening now, and the streets weren’t too busy--but beggers couldn’t be choosers. He’d have to find some way to make someone insult him quick, or he could already tell, he’d lose himself again, wander back up to that apartment, and find himself living the filthy life with Robbie for the rest of his days. However, he also knew he didn’t exactly pass for a faggot at the moment, so he was going to have to try pretty hard to get someone’s attention.

He didn’t want this. Evan could remember better now, that he was away from Robbie, who he’d been before. Not...all the way back, his recollections of the young twink in high school that he’d been were cloudy with his own, new memories of his own high school experience as a drop out--he’d been too busy sucking cock and drinking piss in filthy alleys and bathhouses to care much about school, after all. But he hadn’t always been this. He’d been a jock in college, he’d been a coach, he’d been trailer trash--he could go back, maybe. He could be better than this fat, stinking filthy faggot pig the curse had warped him into as some sick joke.

But what was he going to do? He didn’t exactly read like a faggot--not anymore. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said something like that to his face. He was going to have to be a little more forward now, if he wanted a reaction. That, and he’d have to find a suitable target--though that was a bit harder than he’d expected. He kept walking, but he was exhausted after a long day at work already--and all he really wanted was to go home, have Robbie stuff him silly, and then sit on his face and fill his boyfriend with a load of his shit--and maybe get a taste of it himself. He was about to give up, and give in, when he saw someone approaching him--a beat cop with a reputation around here for roughing up twinks on occasion...though he wasn’t quite sure how he knew that. Whether the curse was offering him a way out, or whether he was just lucky, it didn’t matter--he hiked up his pants, went over to the cop, and said, “Fuck, ya look sexy as hell in that uniform buddy--let me suck that dick a yers,” the worst part, was how...authentic he sounded, when he said it. That, and he really did want the officer’s cock, he realized.

The officer recoiled away from him in disgust, just like Evan had hoped he would, “Get the fuck out of my face you dirty fucking faggot--talk to me again, and I’ll arrest you for indecency.”

The word washed over him like some soothing balm. The officer pushed past him, and Evan felt himself shifting--though perhaps not as much as he would have liked to. He grew a bit taller, but didn’t lose his entire gut. He was left with a hefty beer belly stretching out his shirt, which was growing cleaner, buttons appearing in the front as it morphed into a blue uniform shirt, his grubby jeans similarly changing into navy slacks. He felt the beard disappearing into his face, leaving him with just a thick bushy mustache trimmed to his lip, his hair buzzed down into a flat top under his patrolman’s hat. He was so relieved to be someone different, he didn’t even care about the disgusting homophobia welling up inside him--it was better than who he’d been, in any case.

He was Officer Evan Pittock now, and he’d been a beat cop for quite a while. He’d been passed over for promotions a few times, mostly because of his fairly common record of roughing up the queers he came across on the street, usually with his partner Harry. Both of them detested fags more than pretty much anything else, and had become fast friends on the force. Thanks to the police officer’s association, and their ability to back up one another’s story, they could get away with pretty much anything, so long as they used some flimsy charge as an excuse, which they usually dropped in exchange for the victim of their abuse not saying anything about what they’d done to him. He hurried along the sidewalk and caught up with Harry at the corner, and the two of them resumed their bullshitting, happy that their shift was nearly over as they headed back to the precinct, stopping only to call out a couple of faggy looking whores as they went.

In the locker room, as he was changing out of his uniform, he did his best to avoid looking at any of the other men around him. He’d always gotten...odd feelings, looking at guys in the locker room. Gay feelings, maybe, but he’d bottled them up for so long that he was used to avoiding thinking about them. No, he had a wife and two kids now. It didn’t matter that looking at her never managed to get his dick hard--unless he was taking her from behind, and better if he was fucking her ass. They just didn’t have much sex anymore--the only sex he’d gotten lately was one blowjob from a particularly desperate faggot he’d extorted one night while Harry was off...just...so he could know what it felt like.

Buried deep inside this new Evan’s mind, the curse roiled, urging him to warp his partner in revenge. He could think of so many things to do to him...but did he really want to? Evan was tired--what if he just...slipped away? Sure, life as some homophobic, closeted, overweight cop wasn’t...ideal, but it was still better than risking ending back up with Robbie, right?

As soon as Evan thought about giving into this persona, however, the spirit welled up inside him--warning him. Telling him that it would get its satisfaction one way or another, whether he helped it along or not--and so, it would be best for him if he simply cooperated. He looked over at Harry, who was now naked, and felt that familiar squeamishness rise up in his throat at the sight of him, like looking at naked men always seemed to do to him, like he was some fucking queer--and he hated it. He hated Harry, most of all, in that moment, and he thought of all the vile things he could do to him...but he held back and restrained himself. He couldn’t lose himself again, like before. Stay in control of himself, and maybe he could keep his wits about him.

“You know, I just don’t think you have what it takes, Harry,” he said, the power twining out and around him--but not changing him yet, just...sliding a little bit of doubt and confusion into his mind.

“What are you talking about, Evan?” Harry asked him.

“I mean, as far as recruits go--you’re a pretty sorry looking fucker, you know that? I mean, what are you, five foot five? 240 pounds? Decided to tuck into those doughnuts even before you got through the academy. Can’t fucking imagine how you managed to pass the physical tests with that sort of frame, but maybe the standards just aren’t quite what they used to be, back when I went through. They’ll let any short fat dumbfuck become a cop these days.”

Harry tried to rebut him, but the spirit was too quick, warping him as Evan spoke, until the lean, muscled, veteran of the force had almost entirely disappeared. In his place was a short, stocky young cadet, fresh out of the academy, who had been given to Evan to train. The words...stung, but while Harry knew he should try and defend himself, and his honor...he couldn’t seem to make his brain work fast enough to come up with a retort.

Evan just continued, feeling more confident, feeling his cock hardening in anticipation, “I did have a chat with Grant, though, about you. I always check in with him when I get a new cadet to train--and you know what he told me? Grant and I go way back you know--he paired me up with you for good reason, boy--he told me all about those special skills of yours you used to get through the academy. That sweet mouth and tight ass. See, we let the occasional faggot through, you know. Not many--they never make good cops, but they sure can make great bootlickers. You a good bootlicker, boy?”

Evan put his booted foot up on the bench, and watched Harry’s eye go right to it. He knew what was expected of him--and he walked over, got down on his knees, and started shining his superior officer’s boot with his tongue--first one, and then the other, paying special attention to the bottom of the soles (where Evan reminded him he’d walked through dog shit earlier that day) and then shoved the young cub up against the lockers and fucked his tight ass, showing the boy what he could expect his proper place to be in this precinct--though he knew what he was signing up for, didn’t he? He’s fantasized about being a cop’s sex slave for as long as he could remember, which is why he signed up for Grant’s special recruitment program, after all.

He came deep, pulled free, and made the cadet clean off his cock, before ordering him to get changed and out of his sight. Harry did as he was ordered, his own cock rock hard the entire time, and Evan knew he would be jacking off as soon as possible--these little faggot cadets were all the fucking same, after all. Evan went back to changing, and noticed that he had changed as well. No longer just a beat cop anymore--he was the captain in charge of this entire precinct--which is exactly why Grant had sent this pig here--he was just Evan’s type after all, and his last pig had finally broken down and quit a month ago. He wasn’t worried about them talking--they all wanted it, after all, even if the reality was always too much for them. Still, this one was...particularly eager--he might last longer than most, but Evan would grind him down eventually. That was his favorite part, after all.

He was dressed in his street clothes, admiring his broad shoulders, silver hair and mustache, thinking about how nice it would be to get home for dinner...but something was nagging him. This wasn’t quite right, after all. He knew he should be remembering something...but he was so tired, and maybe it was easier to just finally forget. (will check 60%: success! The story goes on!) He did remember though--how could he forget? This wasn’t real, but his task was, at least, finished...and maybe he’d be able to avoid the same fate as before now, if he was careful when he changed back. If he changed back, that is.

He...was important, now, after all. He had ambitions, and...needs. He could becomes someone even more important--he was attending a gala with the mayor and the commissioner in a few days, after all. But is that what he wanted? Thinking about Harry’s young hole...there were some young men in the neighborhood who could use his If he changed back now...what if he did end up back with Robbie, or maybe even something worse? But what did he want, really?

Evan pushed the temptation away. He didn’t...want this life, did he? He just wanted to be normal. He wanted to go back to the way things were before, he wanted to just...be himself. Alone in the locker room, he sat down on the bench and just thought about himself, about all the selves he’d been, trying to piece something together about who he’d been, but everything was such a jumble now, that nothing seemed...right. Everything he could recall about who he’d been seemed right when looked at from one angle, and wrong from another. He just...wanted to be happy, didn’t he? When had he last been happy?

I know what makes you happy, Evan.

Robbie popped into his mind then, and his stomach turned. It wasn’t true. What he’d done with him was sick, every time he and Robbie got together, no matter who he was...it was awful. Back in that trailer, when he’d turned him into a pig, in that apartment when he’d worshiped his young, dirty, athletic body, in the apartment earlier, thinking about...about all the filthy fun they got into when they were alone...

I know what makes you happy, Evan, because it makes me happy too, watching you give in. You don’t want to want it, but you can’t help yourself, can you? Well, don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re together again, since that’s what we both want, right?

He...smelled himself then. The musk wafting up around him, growing stronger, and he pushed back. He wasn’t some dirty construction worker, he wasn’t! He...he was an officer of the law, he was in control, he had power, he was important!

Yes, you are, aren’t you? A very important man in these parts...

On the bench, he felt himself shifting, growing taller, feet expanding, his hefty gut pushing out, covered in grey hair, the smell of himself shifting. It was more than sweat now--it was...whiskey, and dirt, and...and cigar smoke. Plenty of smoke, after all, he was never without a cigar in his mouth, usually. He shook his head, trying to focus, trying to push back, but the world around him was already here--he wasn’t in a locker room, he was in his...office. The county sheriff’s office, that is. He wasn’t naked anymore either, he was in his tan uniform, sweat marks under his arms in the summer heat, a full ashtray on his desk, cowboy boots on his feet, his beard trimmed back into a set of friendly mutton chops, just like his pappy had, when he’d been sheriff. He groped himself, feeling his anxiety and fear dropping as he settled into his new life, and leaned back in his chair. “Harry?” he hollared around his cigar, “Got one last thing fer ya, deputy.”

After a moment, Harry came to the door...looking rather similar to the short, chubby cub he’d been in the locker room earlier, but with a few...redneck twists, including his own cigar shoved in his young mouth. Evan couldn’t stand the idea of a boy like that not smoking like him, after all, so he’d been working hard on getting the young cubby deputy well addicted to them over the last few months. “Y-Yes sir?”

“Come on boy, get yer mouth o’er here--fergot tah piss.”

Harry gulped, but got down in front of his sheriff, drank down his piss and ate his ash, before being excused for the evening. He’d have the deputy spend a weekend with him and Robbie soon enough--then he’d have a full service toilet for himself both at home, and at the office. This was good enough for now--he’d chosen well, after all, finding this willing young pig desperate to serve him on the force. Once he’d left, Harry closed up his files and hit the road, climbing into his patrol car, which he had smelling nice and smoky, lit up another cigar, and drove home.

He and Robbie were together, and most everyone in the county knew about the arrangement, but most everyone was scared enough of Evan that they knew better than to say anything. Besides, crime was down (not that it had ever really been up) and he had his Pappy’s name, so Evan wasn’t too worried about having anyone contest him in an election. If someone did...well, he’d be able to put them in place quick enough, he figured. He could afford to live in town somewhere, of course, but he liked...his distance. Fewer questions, and Robbie wasn’t usually fit for polite company, anyway. No use scaring anyone with his filthy pig of a boyfriend, after all.

He did stop on his way out of town and picked up five pizzas--his usual order, and then headed home. He parked on the gravel outside the trailer, and undressed there--wouldn’t do to get his uniform dirtier than it had to be, after all. Naked, he got his pizzas out and headed for the door, cock already hardening from the smell of their grungy life together. Inside, Robbie was where he always was, on the filthy couch in his piss and shit stained clothes, watching old porn on VHS--the classics. Evan stuffed his fat face, and then made the pig beg for the load of shit he’d been carrying around for him all day. He never got tired of listening to the pig beg, after all.

“Fuck, I ain’t been this drunk in years, what the fuckin’ *hic* hell?” Robbie slurred. Evan was half carrying, half dragging, his along the sidewalk, back to his car, feeling buzzed for sure, but he’d drivin’ drunker than this before plenty of times.

“Yeah, well, just be thankful I’m feelin’ generous tonight. Could just leave ya passed out on the sidewalk, let the faggots git ya.”

“Fuck Ev, fuckin’ faggots would be better than the stink rollin’ off yer pits.”

“That’s what a real man smells like, one who actually works instead a just standin’ around like a lazy fuck all day,” Evan grumbled, then added, “Ya probably like it anyway, ya smell worse than I do.” When he did, he felt the shiver of the curse roll though him, which he hadn’t felt much at all that day, aside from a few weak, casual remarks. Sure enough, the smell from Robbie grew a bit more intense--they were at his truck though, so he unslung Robbie against the passenger side and let him lean there.

“Did...smell kinda nice...” Robbie muttered under his breath.

“What the fuck was that?”

Robbie realized what he’d said, and his face went pale, “Nothin’ just...just drunk shit.”

Evan glared at him, and then looked down, “Is you fuckin’ dick hard?”

Robbie looked down, and saw that he had a tent in the front of his jeans, “Just...happens when I get drunk, sometimes...”

“Didn’t realize eight beers could turn you into a faggot,” Evan said, and felt another shiver as he walked around the truck and climbed in, Robbie following suit, trying to wrestle with the feelings of attraction for Evan he’d never expected, but which he could not deny. The truck smelled like Evan--and that did nothing to make his sudden hard-on go away. If anything, all he could think about was how good his pits had smelled before...and how he’d never noticed that before. He scooted over a bit as Evan pulled out, hoping to catch another whiff, and then just...leaned over onto him, feigning he was fainting, got a good sniff before Evan cursed and shoved him back upright. “Fuck! I’m tryin’ tah drive.”

“Can’t...I lean on ya, sleep it off a bit?”

Evan sneered at him, “Tell ya what, faggot--I got a place ya can rest yer head--smells ‘bout as good as my pits, too,” he reached under the wheel while he was stopped at a light, undid his jeans, grabbed Robbie’s face and shoved him into his crotch, where the smell of Evan’s piss and cum stained underwear made him release an unexpected moan. Robbie, knowing how this looked, tried to pull away, but Evan shoved him down harder, holding him until he stopped fighting, and then got on the highway--heading for his place, rather than Evan’s. None of his usual bitches would be around this late...and in all honesty, having this faggot all horned up on his stink was turning Evan on in a way he hadn’t quite felt before. He wasn’t a faggot of course--he knew that--but real men like him could use faggots for whatever they fucking wanted--and faggots never whined like bitched did either, when he wanted to put it in their ass.

Robbie had stopped fighting, but when Evan saw his hand drifting towards his own cock, he slapped it away. “Get your filthy hand off that thing, faggot--focus on what you really want.”

By the time they reached his trailer, Evan was already hard and leaking, and he could see that Robbie was too, judging from the wet spot on the front of his jeans. He parked and hauled Robbie up by the hair, his beard matted with slobber, eyes dazed with drunkeness and the discovery of new delights. Robbie wiped his lips with the back of one hand, “Didn’t...think you were a fag too...why...this ain’t my place, where--”

Evan snarled and slammed him against the door of the truck, one huge hand around his neck, “I ain’t a fuckin’ fag! I’ve fucked every cunt in a twenty mile radius, and they all want more--you ain’t here cause I’m a fag--yer here because faggot pigs got their own qualities I happen to enjoy. We ain’t the same. I’m a real man, and you’re a faggot. A stupid, nasty minded, perverted pig faggot who’ll do fuckin’ anything to get a taste a real man’s body once in your life--you understand that?”

Robbie nodded, and the shiver ran through them both. “Yes, sir,” he croaked out.

“I could kill you, bury your worthless corpse out here and no one would ever know. No one would care about a worthless fag like you. That means, yer only gettin’ through this if you keep me very happy--got it faggot?”

Robbie tried to speak, but Evan gripped him tighter, and all he could do was croak. Then he released him, and got out of the car, leaving Robbie heaving for breath, horrified that as terrified as he was...he was still more turned on by this than he’d ever been in his life. Evan came around, opened the truck door, grabbed Robbie by the collar of his shirt and hauled him out onto the ground. He started to get up, but Evan planted a heavy work boot on his back, “Pigs crawl in the presence of real men--understand?”

Robbie snorted in agreement, and followed Evan into his trailer. He was horrified that someone might see him...but did he really care? Anyone who looked at him could see him for what he was. He couldn’t deny it anymore, feeling his heavier gut scraping the gravel as he crawled, smelling the stench of his body around him--but it wasn’t the same as Evan’s scent. Evan...he was a real man, not like him at all. Deserving of worship. He’d...do anything for him, anything he demanded, and as humiliating as that revelation was, he couldn’t deny any of it.

The next few hours passed in a haze for them both. Evan didn’t need to encourage Robbie much further than he had, to get the fledgling pig to give up the last remnants of his self-respect, groveling on the flithy floor of the trailer, begging him to allow the pig to taste his feet, eat out his pits, and wash out his sweaty, hairy crack with his tongue. As he did, Evan felt himself warping too, loving the power of his musk, feeling his body full of strength and vitality even as Robbie seemed to grow fatter and filthier. He ended up filling the pig’s ass with his cock on the bed, making him snort and grunt and beg for more, beg him to go deeper, sealing his fate as he came--but even as the curse’s power ebbed within him, the desire to fuck didn’t. He...could go further. Push the pig further, or hell, go find another pig around here. He knew of a few assholes in the trailer park who could use a little...discipline from a real man like him. He could make a weekend of it--he could always find his way back to himself on Monday....right?

It was early in the afternoon on Saturday when Evan managed to pull himself out of slumber, blinking his bleary, hungover eyes at the grungy ceiling above him. He only dimly recalled the night before--and he felt the familiar curdle of shame in his gut that he always felt after giving into his worst impulses and messing around with a faggot or a pig. He...shouldn’t want to do that--he was a real man, and real men like him should only want bitches, but damn, something about watching a man lust after him and his filthy body got him so riled up, he couldn’t resist it. After all, he wasn’t really one to resist his natural impulses very often.

He sat up, dug around in the bag of chaw sitting on the table by his filthy bed, and pulled out three pinches, packing them in his lower lip, feeling the first buzz of nicotine start to push back against the haze of beer from the night before. He got up and went stumbled into the bathroom, planning on pissing, but didn’t make it to the toilet before seeing himself in the mirror and giving a start. He...didn’t quite recognize himself in the filthy glass...but how else was he supposed to look?

He was huge--six and a half feet tall, body full of muscle, hair all over. He hadn’t cut his hair or his beard in--hell, even he had lost track at this point, and they were both shot through with the first streaks of grey. His beard was so thick, he could barely see the bulge of his cheek from the chaw--and he took a second to spit in the sink--though some of it hit his beard like usual, not that he cared. He was naked, nine inch cock hanging between his legs, thick calloused hands running their way over his greasy, dusty body...and he could almost remember something else. Being young, a curse, a...task.

The pig--had he left?

He turned around, and there he was, on the couch, snoring away. Evan felt a flash of anger, seeing the animal on the furniture, and he stomped over, grabbed him by the leg and dragged him off and onto the floor, amid the unwashed laundry and trash littering Evan’s little trailer. “Pig, I thought I told ya last night animals sleep on the goddamn floor!”

The pig started to say something, but Evan just smashed one of his massive, size eighteen feet into his face, pinning him to the floor, watching the pig’s pathetic three inch cock immediately come to attention. He...he knew he had to stop this. That he had to...remember, and go back...but he didn’t want to. He had all weekend with this pig, after all...and it was clear it was going to need quite a bit more training. Foot still smashed into his face, Evan pointed his dick at him and blasted him with a load of piss, soaking down the pig, and his foot, and the clothes around them, not that he cared. If anything...he kind of enjoyed the smell. He made the pig lick, it up, and then made him clean the toilet as punishment--with his tongue, of course. He whined about it, begged Evan to let him go home, but a good asskicking reminded him of his proper place.

By that evening, Evan had decided to skip it--why the hell would he need a clean toilet, when he could just make the pig be his toilet? Sure, the pig was willing to drink piss, but it balked at having to eat Evan’s shit--so he force fed the fucker, and when he puked it back up, Evan made him eat that too, until it was all gone, until the pig realized how good he was being to it. Until he realized that he wasn’t a man anymore, or a person, or much of anything at all. Faggots like him didn’t amount to shit--no, they just consumed it. Hungered for it, ached for filth. Knew that it was all they deserved from the world, because filth was all they were--and Evan grew filthier too.

He didn’t work on construction anymore--he was too dirty even for that. No, Evan worked out on a pig farm, where it didn’t matter how bad you smelled, the manure almost always stank worse. The pig didn’t make the mistake of trying to get on the furniture Saturday night--it just curled up in a pile of its master’s filthy, manure stinking laundry and went to sleep, dreaming of more filth, the curse scrubbing its mind of anything else--and scrubbing at Evan’s mind as well, sanding off the edges, wondering if it should just abandon him here with the pigs he hated so much.

Sunday, Evan spent on the couch, watching porn--straight porn, of course. Evan told himself he preferred women, even though he hadn’t been with a woman in years at this point. He hadn’t managed to find one who would put up with his stink for more than an hour to even consider sleeping with him, and he didn’t have the cash for a prostitute. No--all he had was his pig...right? As he lounged about, he could feel the flicker of something else around the edges of his mind, trying to connect to the world around it, trying to find something to anchor itself on, if anything even remained for it to cling to--or perhaps he was simply trapped here. The spirit wondered if it should abandon him--there were, after all, other gay men it could offer its assistance to instead, if Evan was too far gone to be of any more use.

No--no, this isn’t him. This isn’t his life! He was younger, he was younger and he...he lived in the city, and he was going to school...but so many of the details were missing. This life seemed so much more real than that one--he’d let himself get sucked in too far. The pig was sucking on his foot, and he kicked it off, making it squeal, and ran to the bathroom. He needed to be alone, he needed some time to think. The bathroom was filthy, filthier than anything he’d seen before in his life, but he felt so...comfortable in it. He looked at himself, at the hulking, stinking man he’d become, hair everywhere, and he...hated himself. He hated that he’d let himself become this disgusting thing, this thing he’d never wanted to be, and he wanted out.

[But do you remember?]

Was that his voice? No--he remembered that voice. Is was that darkness, from that night in his room, a room he couldn’t remember, but the darkness he knew very well. It terrified him, the searing laughter in the question. It knew he couldn’t remember, not all of it.

[You can’t go back if you don’t remember--just forget it all. Wouldn’t it be easier to stay?]

He shook his head, hair flying. He focused on what he could remember. On youth, on...school, of some sort, on sports...he could remember something about sports, and being a jock...or had that been another life? It all seemed so muddled together in his memory, and trying to pull any of it apart only made it seem like it would crumble at any moment. It was working, though. He could feel his body shifting--shrinking somewhat, his mind clearing, the redneck pig farmer slipping away into the dark, back into the spirit that had conjured it. His memory was becoming clearer now. He could remember school--college. College? Hadn’t he been going to high school?

He opened his eyes and saw his face. A face he could recognize better, without all of the hair around him. Younger, but still grungy. He had a short beard now, mostly because he was too lazy to bother with shaving, or really much hygiene at all...right? Hadn’t he been cleaner? It was too hard to remember, and resisting the spirit was too much of a struggle. This wasn’t...right, but it was better. It was what he had. He splashed some water on his face, and the room around him started to twist as well. Still a bathroom, but not the bathroom from the trailer...but also not his own bathroom in the dorm where he lived. Where...was he?

There was a knock on the door. “Hey, sexy fucker--I’ll throw in another 200 if you...leave me something in that toilet.”

His guts twisted--it was Robbie, the filthy construction worker he’d sleep with on occasion because he’d pay him 500 for a fuck--and honesty...Evan did kind of like how much of a filthy pig he was. Didn’t like him enough that he’d fuck him for free of course, but he couldn’t get sex like this from anyone else. Robbie would do anything to lick Evan clean after football practice, among other things...and 200 hundred extra dollars couldn’t hurt. He sat down, did his business, didn’t flush, and then left. Robbie took a look, shoved the 700 into his hand and pushed him out of the apartment, barely giving Evan a chance to get his shorts and shirt back on, and then he was out, his life sorting itself out in his mind as he left the shoddy apartment building where Robbie lived a few blocks from campus, and headed for his dorm.

His memory was clearer now--he could remember better who he’d been--Evan the slender twink, a senior in high school--but the opportunity to get back there had closed. Who he was now was...substantially different, especially physically. His body was packed with muscle and fat, the perfect build for an offensive lineman. He’d aged up, and was a junior in college, on track for a potential pro career, if his sexuality didn’t torpedo things for him. He was also out of the closet--a rarity, and the team kind of hated him for it, but he was so good, no one gave him shit...usually. In fact, walking back to campus, it was the first time he could remember walking anywhere in the city, and no one called him a queer, or a faggot...or even really noticed him much at all. It was a relief in some ways. It meant that the curse was less likely to trigger, if nothing else.

He got a text on his phone, and saw, with some surprise, it was from Curtis. He, apparently, was going to college now too, and had sent him a pic of him naked, bent over, ass to the camera--one of his standard booty calls. Evan’s cock jumped to attention, tenting out the front of his mesh shorts. Even though he’d just plowed Robbie’s fat ass...he could always use a round with Curtis. No one had a hole like his...but he couldn’t. He needed help--someone somewhere had to know about this curse, and how to get rid of it, but where could he go? He didn’t know anything about this stuff, after all. Maybe it would be best to try and forget about it, if there was nothing he could do about it. So he headed for Curtis’ dorm instead, let himself in, and spent the next half hour fucking the twink’s tight hole until it was nice and loose, loving how high the bitch could moan, loving how he could make him beg--loving the power he had. The power he had over both of them now, he supposed, since Robbie was the same...just with different inclinations. No one was going to talk shit about him, not to his face at least. Maybe...maybe he could be safe like this, if he just kept his head down, and didn’t make waves. Maybe the spirit would get tired of him, and go away on its own, if he refused to give it what it wanted.

He did his best, for a few days. He went to practice, and went to class, fucked Curtis regularly, finding the rhythm of this new life. Not once in that time did he hear a slur...and he was beginning to have hope that he might be normal enough now to get through this. The curse was willing to be patient though, because it knew he would hear something soon enough--not even something necessarily directed at him. Someone would be talking about him behind his back--or he would hear a slur directed at someone else he was with. It wouldn’t matter--he’d change again, and the spirit would have its satisfaction.

It was over a week, before Evan’s curse activated. A week he actually found himself enjoying, despite the fact that everything he knew about himself told him he should hate this. He should hate being filthy, never showering, never using deodorant, always stinking. He should hate what he did to Curtis, how he fucked him mercilessly, abused him, raped him--though Curtis always begged for more. This Curtis. Was the other Curtis in there somewhere? The jock? When he thought about that, once, he swore he heard the voice in his mind chuckle...and that gave him the most likely answer. The next weekend, Robbie begged him to come over again, offered to pay him double the usual fee if he’d let him be his toilet for a day. Evan felt like a whore, but this new Evan didn’t care. Money was money after all, and watching the pig worship him all day long? It was worth it, in its own way too. Brought back...memories of them in that trailer, how close he’d been to giving it all up for a life of filth. He imagined that if he propositioned the pig, he could give up his football career, dropout of college, move right in with him...and it would be like nothing had changed at all...in fact, he could sense that the curse would always leave that door ajar for him, a little trap and temptation that made the whole thing feel even more sick.

But what was there to do, beyond live? He couldn’t go back, and the more days that past without anyone harassing him, the more certain he felt that the curse was beginning to fade from him, bit by bit, growing a bit bored and uninterested, pondering abandoning him entirely, if he wasn’t going to be a good little victim again. Until that Tuesday afternoon, after practice. He’d forgotten something in the locker room, and had slipped back in to grab it real quickly, only to hear two of the teams coaches--Hawke, the offensive coach, and Jerry, the head coach--talking. Talking about him.

“You didn’t tell him the scouts are coming?” Hawke asked, “I mean, I know you don’t like the guy, but he’s fucking good at what he does.”

“Please--I know these scouts, and I know what they’re looking for. He ain’t what they want. I’ve already...discussed it with them. No--as far as I’m concerned, the only guy worth scouting on this team is Everett.”

Everett was a receiver, a year younger than Evan was now. He was good. Good enough to go pro, if he lost some of the ego and trained harder, or got a bit more charisma and could sell himself better as a property. Not as good as Evan, who’d caught everyone’s attention despite his reputation as a faggot scumbag.

“That’s pretty fucking cold man.”

“You know as well as I do that nasty faggot is a fucking embarrassment to this school and this team. You think I’m gonna let someone like that go pro?”

Evan felt his guts twist. It wasn’t him. They weren’t talking about him, were they? No--no, of course they were, and he was fairly certain that even if they hadn’t been, it wouldn’t have mattered to the curse. His body was starting to heat up, he could feel himself starting to shift, and he backed out of the locker room before either of them could see him.

He stumbled into the laundry room, which was unoccupied, and gave into the curse, feeling it wash over him as he shifted. He lost some height, but not a whole lot--but his muscular build diminished quite a bit, and he found himself with a hefty beer gut stretching out his shirt, which was changing from a sleeveless tee into the same red polo as the rest of the coaching staff wore, his gym shorts turning into khakis. He cleaned up substantially as well, losing some of his musk, though not all of it by any means, his beard shortening into something a bit more professional, and picking up a smattering of grey--as did his receding hairline underneath the team cap he was wearing.

As the change completed, Evan’s old life faded away as well. Now, he was one of the team’s assistant coaches, and an alumni from the school who had been decent, but not nearly dedicated enough to go pro. Instead, he had tried to settle down with his college girlfriend and they had a son together, but Evan had never really been able to control his temper, or his disdain for her, and all women, really. They’d been divorced for years now--his son, Will, was a senior in high school now and planning to attend here, and would be on the team if Evan had anything to say about it.

He hadn’t managed to settle down with anyone else, and told everyone that he was happier with the bachelor life--but in reality, he lived in denial of his own feelings, that the people he really wanted to fuck were the students and coaches on the team. He’d always gotten such a...thrill back in his college football days, ramming into guys on the field, dominating them, roughing them up...his wife had never taken to that much, but women couldn’t take shit. He couldn’t handle the idea of being a faggot though, so he bottled them up--and was as much of, if not more so, of a homophobe as Jerry.

Evan was tired of it. Tired of the insults, of being shoved into lockers at school, of guys shouting “faggot” and “queer” at him from the windows of passing cars. All of it. There wasn’t anything he could do about it though--and in his opinion, there wasn’t even anything that “faggy” about him--not like some of the guys he’d seen, or some of the guys in the porn he liked to watch, he supposed. Yeah, he had a bit of a lisp, and he tended to sashay slightly--that, and he definitely loved sucking dick. Still, where the insults would have reduced most people to tears and depression, Evan reacted differently. He was angry. Angry all of the time, so angry, he barely even noticed it anymore, it was just a constant, seething, bubbling mass in his guts that never went away. He’d have fantasies though. Fantasies about the men who bullied him, about beating them, humiliating them, doing what they did to him right back, but tenfold. Maybe it was that, which drew the spirit to him--but in any case, he never really knew why it appeared to him that night in his bedroom, after one particularly cruel fantasy, thinking about some jocks he had a run in with earlier that day. He’d wiped up his cum, and there it had been, a massive, hulking shadow glued to his wall, two bright, gem-like eyes where it’s head was, staring at him.

The terror in him was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, as it slid along the wall, closer to him. Then, he saw something. A powerful vision overtook him, similar to the fantasy he’d just had, but far more powerful. Bending over Curtis Barrister, the top jock of the school, and Evan raping his hole while he rained abuse down on him--but it was so vivid...like it really was happening. Then, it was gone, and he heard a voice in his mind.

I can give you the power. You can have your revenge on all of them, if you so desire it.

For real? Was this just some hallucination? A nightmare? If it was, then does it really matter? He did want it. He had a feeling this thing wouldn’t have come to him, if he hadn’t known he would accept its offer. The darkness slid closer to him, and then slid over him, and everything went dark, and he couldn’t move his body. The darkness was more inside him, and he could feel it, in that anger in his stomach, changing it, changing...him somehow, and he came again, the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had, and then fell right asleep, the spirit chuckling in the dark, as it faded away. Evan would have his revenge, certainly, but it likely wouldn’t be the sort of revenge he was expecting. Anger could twist people in strange ways, after all--and vengeance was never kind to the avenger.

Evan woke up the next morning, certain it had been a dream, and nothing more. He got up and got ready for school, but he still couldn’t shake the sensation that something about him was different. He was still angry, but it...tasted different, when he felt it, but that didn’t make sense even to him, when he experienced it. There was a definite sense, too, that things would be different today, like how he felt when a thunderstorm was on the way. He said goodbye to his mother, left the apartment and hit the street, walking to school...wondering when the first insult would hit. But the anticipation was different too, in his guts. Usually he just felt fear and anger as he braced himself, but today, part of him was almost...excited. Eager to experience it, and that terrified the rest of him even more. Still, who knew what the day would hold? Maybe everything would be fine. The spirit in him knew better, though--and it was eager to see the curse it had laid on Evan work for the first time.

He made it all the way to school, however, before the first insult came his way--and sure enough, it was none other than Curtis Barrister himself, and his posse of football friends, calling him a faggot. His face burned red...but he felt that same heat infusing the rest of him too, and he was feeling a bit...sick. He went to the bathroom near the entrance of the school and ducked into one of the stalls--and as soon as he was alone, he looked down, and saw his body was...changing. He grew six inches taller, body filling out with muscle, his skinny jeans and tank top became gym shorts and a t-shirt bearing the mascot of the high school--along with word football. No--he tried to fight it, but there was nothing he could do--when he stumbled out a minute later, Evan was gone--or at least, he wasn’t the Evan he should be. He was...a jock. Strong jaw, flat top, cocky grin, and worst of all, he knew he was best friends with Curtis.

His head throbbed, and Evan--the gay Evan, receded. In his place, someone else took control of his body, a very, very straight Evan, one who would know exactly how to act around his straight jock friends--and with his girlfriend, Stephanie Hawkins. The whole day was torture, hanging out with his new jock buddies, kissing his girlfriend, making fun of nerds and other jocks...but as he did, Evan noticed something else. Whenever he threw a casual insult at Curtis or one of their friends...they changed. Not much, but enough that he began to understand what this curse was--and what the spirit was offering him.

After practice, he and Curtis happened to hang back chatting a bit, and showered alone together. He accused Curtis of looking at his cock, and called him a faggot, and watched as his bully started to get hard--and so Evan decided to have his way with him, shoving him up against the shower wall and fucking his loose hole, calling him a faggy sissy, a weak little cocksucker, and watched as his words came to life. When he finally came, it was a very different Curtis who fled the locker room--barely 150 pounds, short, ass and mouth hungry for cock all the time--the exact kind of faggot Curtis had always seen him as.

He was horrified by what he’d done--but even more horrified when he saw himself in the mirror of the locker room. He was...massive. Thick with muscle, hairy all over, the exact kind of alpha jock he’d always detested--and feared. This...he wasn’t stuck like this, was he? He could...sense that the curse would, now that he’d dealt with his primary target, let him change back, or he could visit a few of the other jocks on the team too. But if he did...who would he become then? Would he even remember who he’d been before? No--he wanted to change back--he pushed his way forward, and saw the hulking frame in the mirror begin to recede at last.

He was back in his old body, but not everything was back to normal. He was more muscular for one thing, and he remembered, now, that he was on the track and field team, when he’d never played sports once in his life. He was hairier too--was this all because of what he’d done to Curtis? He got home as quickly as he could, but struggled to fall asleep--and got a text from a number he didn’t know late at night--it was Curtis, looking for a fuck. He had new memories now of Curtis, a hopeless sex addict, as a frequent fuckbuddy at school, and his stomach turned into knots all over again. He could hear the spirit laughing in his very soul, and Evan knew all he could do was wait until someone else insulted him--and he’d be forced to change them as well. Who runs afoul of the curse next?

The next morning, Evan looked at himself in the mirror, at his slightly taller, slightly more muscular self, and tried not to be sick to his stomach. Had he really done that to Curtis? Turned him into a sex-addicted little twink? It didn’t seem possible. Maybe it had all been a dream or something, the whole day...but he knew that was a lie. He could feel the spirit in him still, biding its time, waiting for someone else to trigger the curse. Waiting to change him again, into some new homophobic nightmare.

He tried to get his mom to call into school and say he was sick, but she refused--he had never been that good of an actor, unfortunately. So he got his books and notes together, and decided the best thing he could do would be to just play hookie, and find somewhere safe he could hang out and try and figure out what to do next--but he hit the sidewalk outside his apartment building, and there, waiting for him, was Curtis. Curtis wearing a bright pink tank top, barely long enough to cover his waist, a pair of short jean shorts, hair bleached and coifed, lips pouting, and Evan’s cock throbbed.

“Took you long enough, hot stuff,” Curtis said to him with a smirk, “You never replied to my pic last night.”

“Oh, yeah, I saw it this morning,” Evan said, looking around him, seeing who might see them. With his curse, he couldn’t afford to be around Curtis looking like this--it was an insult waiting to happen.

“Well if we hurry, we can get to our usual spot, come on.”

Usual spot? As they walked--well, Evan walked, but Curtis strutted--he felt memories filling in the gaps. He and Curtis were, for lack of a better word, fuckbuddies. Their usual spot was an abandoned alley on the way to school where Curtis would usually suck Evan off--or if they were feeling bold and extra horny, he’d fuck his tight hole instead. Evan was horrified, but he was so horny, and he could feel the spirit warping things so that when the time came, he wouldn’t be able to resist.

And so, it was a bit of a relief, in some ways, that they passed by a crew of construction workers renovating a building along their route. Talking to themselves, but loud enough that Evan could hear, one of them said, “Look at that kid--those faggots get to them early now. Remember when men were fucking men, like us?”

“Yeah, might as well be a bitch. All the boys these days are just sissy little cocksuckers like that.”

Evan prayed that it wouldn’t affect him, since technically they’d been talking about Curtis, but apparently, to the spirit, any homophobic remark made around him was enough to satisfy the curse. Curtis just flipped off the workers and kept on strutting, while Evan grabbed his stomach, lurched against the wall, and then into a little doorway of a business that was still closed. It was the same as when he’d changed at school the day before--the heat of his muscles expanding, the hair growing in all over him...but there were differences too. He packed on a substantial gut for one thing, and this time, he also grew a thick beard all over his face. The clothes he had on shifted, becoming a grubby, dirt covered shirt and hi-viz vest, some patched up jeans held up by suspenders, and a pair of work boots that had definitely seen better days.

“Fuck! Nah, come on, I ain’t some fuckin’ dumbass worker like them!” he said, looking at himself in the glass, hardly even recognizing the face looking back at him. It was a good mug though--little worse for wear over the years, and missing a couple of teeth, but it gave him character. Let everyone know he was a real man who didn’t turn away from a fight. Evan was receding into the back of his mind, clawing at it, but helpless as the spirit gave him a new reality. He was in his mid-forties, and unlike the rest of the guys on the crew, a confirmed bachelor--not that he didn’t sleep with bitches on occasion, of course. He just preferred life of his own--just him and his trailer in a mobile home park a outside of the city. He told himself that he just didn’t want to deal with women--but the truth was, he much preferred the times he got his cock sucked at the rest areas on the highway, years ago, while he was truckin’, before he got fired for drinking on the road.

Evan hiked up his pants, gave his ass a scratch, then put on his hardhat and walked back to the work site.

“Where the fuck ya been Evan, you lazy fuck?” Robbie said. He was the one who’s insulted them first--and Evan could sense he was the main target of the curse. If he wanted his old body back--he was the one he was going to have to change...somehow.

“Lazy? The only weight you pull ‘round here is that gut of yers,” Evan said, watching Robbie’s stomach balloon out with another fifty pounds. Maybe if he was quick, he could get it over with, and move on.

Before he could do anything else, though, the foreman hollered at them to get back to work, and his persona took over, Evan receding into the background, but never entirely gone. He spent the whole day on the site, part of him loving the work, happy as could be doing manual labor like real men were built to do--but inside, he seethed, and the spirit laughed. When work was over, he tried to catch Robbie alone, but found him with the rest of the guys on the crew getting ready to go out for a beer--it was Friday after all. Evan’s guts churned a bit--if he didn’t change Robbie tonight, he wouldn’t see him until Monday--and that meant a whole weekend spent in his trailer, drinking beer...and probably calling over one of the single hags for a fuck, so he could feel like a man for a bit.

Andy had just gotten off the school bus and walked home from the bus stop when he arrived at the front door of

his small house where he spotted the small, square cardboard box sitting on the ground, right in front of the

door.

"Hey! They delivered a box? For me or for mom?" he wondered as he picked it up while he looked for a label.

When he realized that there was none, he just shrugged. "Oh well!"

He found the key to the door in his pocket and unlocked the door. He opened it and walked in, locking the door

behind him. He walked into his bedroom where he tossed the box on the bed, and then dropped his backpack on

the floor next to his desk.

Andy was the typical middle-schooler. He was fourteen years old and he was already in the seventh grade going

on eighth. He was well liked in school, even though he was occasionally bullied now and then. He was about 5

foot 4 inches tall and he was skinny but slightly athletic. He did like to run and he did play baseball and

soccer in school whenever he could.

He walked into the kitchen and got some juice to drink before he turned on the TV. After about an hour of

watching TV, he wandered back into his bedroom and decided to start on his math and history homework. Like a

good student, he didn't want to have any homework laying around when his mother came home from work late at

night, so he tried his best to get it done as quickly as possible.

Once he was done with everything, he looked over at the strange, unknown box. He picked it up and shook it a

few times. It almost seemed like there was nothing inside of it, for the cardboard box seemed empty. There was

no sound coming from it when he shook it. It almost appeared like it was left at his doorstep like some sort

of a prank or a practical joke.

Andy got his scissors and cut open the packing tape that held the box together. Once he cut the tape open, he

saw what he was afraid of. The box was empty! Little did he realize he had actually come into contact with the

strange muscle growth virus, which was contained inside of it. But, to Andy, it was nothing more than an

empty, cardboard box.

Andy just tossed the box next to the trash can.

"What a lame joke! Who mails an empty box?" he sighed as he walked back into the living room.

He sat down on the couch and almost dozed off, when he was overcome by an odd tingling sensation, which

coursed through entire body, but specifically through his muscles!

"Hey... What the heck is that? Am I coming down with a cramp?" he wondered out loud.

Suddenly, Andy started to feel funny. “Ow!” He looked down at the clothes he was wearing and noticed that they're tightening on him. “Ugh! Hey! What's going on?!”. Andy started to feel warm. “Oh man, maybe I just need some water.” He walked towards the freezer but as he placed his hand on the handle he noticed his hands were now huge with a few hairs on his knuckles. “Aaah!!! What the hell?!!!” Andy looked at his hands, they were as big as his dad’s now. “Ooooh, shit!!! This isn't normal!!!” Then Andy’s shoes were becoming extremely tight now. His feet pushed against his size 9 shoes. He felt his toes extending and soles getting wider and wider. “Ahhh!!!” Andy shouted while he tried slipping off his shoes but it was too late. His feet had already started ripping his shoes open exposing his large and apparently hairy feet little by little as they grew larger and larger. Andy started to panic, “What’s happening?!! Mom and dad can't see me like this!!” He said frantically as he ran to the room he shared with his 13 years old brother, Daniel, using his huge manly feet.

When he arrived in his room, Andy felt that weird feeling again all over his body now. “Uuuuh, there is more!!?” He said with a confused tone. Andy immediately started to stretch to a taller height. His 5’4” frame quickly became a 6’5” frame in under 40 seconds. His clothes were now so tight that barely covered his now tall body. “Ugh!” Andy felt beyond uncomfortable in his tight clothing and he was too confused and overwhelmed that he didn’t notice his body was now expanding with muscle until his pants started to burst open. His thighs became so thick that his pants split open immediately. “What the-!!” He looked down at his strong and hairy legs, “They’re so big now!!!” Andy felt his butt expanding as it began to pop out of his tight underwear. His torso was the next part of his body to go through change. He looked down and saw his chest beginning to pop out in front of him with thick and hairy pecs. “Fuuu-why is this happening to me?!” Andy said as he groaned in pain while his abs became more defined. His shirt began to rip everywhere as his back grew more broad and biceps became thicker. He couldn’t help but flex his growing muscles, shredding the rest of his clothing with his body. “Ooooh man! It's impossible!! I'm getting older!!”

Andy started to cry in desperation while his younger voice deepened. Then, his face stared to feel warm. “Shit! Shit! This isn't happening!!” He told himself in denial while he touched his face and felt as it restructures itself to become more rugged and lose any evidence that he was once a preteen. He felt his strong jaw line and stubble along his face. Tears were running down through his hairy cheeks. He took some time to inspect his new body. He saw how big and hairy everything was now. Andy looked to be at least 30 years old now.

“It's not over yet!?” Andy shouted in a deep voice as he looked inside the front of his underwear. “What's happening with my dick?!!” As soon as Andy touched his small penis and balls he was filled with intense pleasure. “UH! Ooooh! AAAAHHH!” Andy moaned uncontrollably in pain and pleasure as he stroked his 4” dick. He looked down in shock as it grew larger and thicker in his hand. At the same time, while he massaged his balls he felt them drop in his large hands and expanded to a thicker size with some curly hairs sprouting everywhere. “UUUHH! Man! More hair?!!” Andy moaned as he experienced his first and most intense sexual pleasure. His dick was now a throbbing 9” and fat like a soda bottle. Andy kept holding his thick hairy balls in his shredded underwear. “UH!! UHHHH!! I CAN'T STOOOOPPP!!!” Andy was red with sexual frustration as he stroked harder and harder. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!” He screamed while he quickly released a lot of thick semen from his throbbing dick. “OOOOH! Shiiit!” Andy was breathing deeply and drenched in sweat. He looked down at the mess he had made with his cock, “What the-?! I can't believe I lost myself so easily...” Andy said while he panted. He looked around for something to clean his mess, but he only got one of Daniel's dirty briefs from the ground. He cleaned as fast as he could before he ran to his parents' room looking for something to wear. He even considered to take his dad's razor to shave as much hair as he can, even though he had never used a razor before.