Bigger, Stronger, Better

Wrestled into a New Reality

Carlos Torres had one dream in life, just one goal, one ambition; to wrestle. As long as he could remember, even when he was young, Carlos had dreamed of being a wrestler. A young latino boy who saw very few people he could relate to on television, Carlos grew up idolizing the macho luchadors he saw on TV, and play wrestling with his brothers and uncles. And well most young boys eventually moved on from their wrestling phase and into whatever other random thing they’d be interested in for about a month, Carlos’ love of wrestling only grew and grew with time. Sadly, his adoration of the sport didn’t translate into any skill with it. Despite taking wrestling classes from as young as seven, and practicing with dedication and heart, Carlos never managed to win as much as a single match, much less gain any of the muscular size that wrestlers traditionally have. He didn’t make it onto his middle school team, or onto his high school team, and after almost three years of working out obsessively and trying for it year after year after year, Carlos had just lost his final chance at getting onto his college’s wrestling team. The college senior knew it had been a long shot, that he had been incredibly scrawny his entire life, that he never seemed to go through the growth spurts his parents always told him was on the horizon, and that there was little chance of any of that suddenly changing, but this had been his last chance. Carlos was hoping that just this once someone would see the potential he knew he had, that he could get on a team and maybe, just maybe, having teammates and a coach would lead to him finally growing into the wrestling machine he has always dreamed of being. But once again, he had missed the cut. Once again, his dream had been crushed, this time for good.

Carlos trudged into the men's locker room, having hidden in a stall of a nearby bathroom in the hopes of avoiding the pitying looks of those who had actually managed to get on the team. Most of the athletes in school actually got along really well with Carlos, most admiring his dedication despite his difficulties and finding it easy to bond with him over his love of the sport, but right now Carlos just couldn’t handle seeing them. He just knew he’d be overwhelmed by his envy and end up saying something stupid, or even cruel, which was the last thing he wanted to do to the few people in his college he could call his friends. Relieved to find that the locker room was now empty, Carlos walked over to his locker, and quietly opened it, only to feel that small relief completely evaporate. His locker was almost completely empty. Some of his stuff had been left behind, including his wallet and phone thank god, but his clothing had seemingly evaporated. The only piece of clothing left in his locker was a single red jockstrap, one that Carlos was certain wasn’t his. Carlos felt his stomach sink as his already horrible mood grew worse. After everything he had been through today, after losing out on his dream, someone stole his clothing? What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t just walk out of the gym wearing his sweaty, musky wrestling gear, especially since he hadn’t managed to get on the team and had to give it back to the wrestling coach, Coach Simmons. He could possibly borrow some clothing from the lost and found in Coach Simmons’ office, but he’d have to get there. He couldn’t stand the embarrassment of being seen walking around in his borrowed singlet so long after tryouts had ended. Which meant…

Carlos winced in disgust as he looked at the red piece of cloth lying at the bottom of his locker. He picked it up with two fingers, not wanting to touch it directly. Carlos was used to wearing athletic gear, and wasn’t really one to be squeamish, but in this case the jockstrap was… clearly used. It wasn’t filthy per say, but he could see the sweat stains, and smell the musk radiating off of it without even trying. Carlos was absolutely grossed out… but if it was between this, stripping down to nothing in front of Coach Simmons, wearing a singlet he didn’t earn, or – god forbid – using lost and found underwear, then the choice was obvious. Faced with an awful choice, Carlos swallowed his pride, stripped off his somewhat too large singlet, and put on the red jockstrap, shuddering slightly as it settled around his five inch cock. Suddenly, Carlos felt a strange, intense heat rush through him, starting in his crotch and radiating out throughout his entire body, leaving him panting and confused. It was a heavy, humid heat that made his entire body start to sweat as a haze came over his mind. What the fuck was happening to him? Had someone done something to the jockstrap? Carlos knew something was wrong, knew that the strange jockstrap he had tried on had done something, but as he reached down to try and take it off he could feel the heat that had spread across his body grow even more intense. He panted deeply and wiped sweat from his brow. Why was he so hot? He felt like he had been standing in a sauna after an hours-long workout, and for some reason the feeling just seemed to be getting more intense, especially in his crotch. He took a deep breath, trying to both cool and calm himself down, only to get a noseful of his own newfound sweaty musk. Fuck he smelled so gross, so sweaty, so… manly? He had never liked the smell of his own BO before, but right now it was almost… intoxicating. He tried again to reach down and take off his jockstrap, only for another wave of heat to come over his body. This one wasn’t like the last wave though. For some reason, it felt… good. Really good. Instead of reaching down to the waistband, Carlos felt himself reach past it, down to his bulge, which he began to rub and grope through the sweaty red jockstrap. The scrawny latino moaned, loudly and wantonly, as he grabbed at his cock and felt another wave of heat spread through his body, this one reverberating through him like a shockwave as it hit his muscles. Said muscles seemed to pump themselves up with every grope and thrust, growing larger and larger. Carlos watched, his mind too hazy from the sweat and musk to understand, as his muscles began to slowly grow, his shoulders broadening, neck thickening, and chest shoving out into an impressive set of pecs as his entire body packed on muscle. It wasn’t long before the formally small latino looked like the wrestling jocks he had always envied and lusted after, but the growth didn’t just stop there. His pecs, already huge, grew almost obscenely large, as his ass pushed against the back of the jockstap, his cheeks becoming thick, muscular and juicy. His cock, which he was now groping wildly with both hands as he moaned deeply, was clearly larger, now almost the size of a soda can and long enough that he needed both his meaty hands to hold it. Carlos, or whoever he had become because of the jockstrap, didn’t look like a wrestler, but instead looked like some sort of pornographic parody of a wrestler. The latino muscle slut, because that was the only word for what he was now, felt himself pant harder as his cock began to twitch in his hands, and before he knew it, he had soaked his jock in a thick load of cum. 

Carlos, who was so dazed by what had just happened that he couldn’t quite remember his name, looked around in confusion. What was he doing in the locker room? Was he supposed to be working out right now or something? He did spend a lot of time working out, didn’t he? The latino looked down at his body, and after struggling for a moment to peak over his massive pecs, noticed that there was cum dripping from his favorite jock. Oops. Carlos let out a deep, dumb chuckle and stripped off the jock, leaving his footlong, cum covered cock dangling out in the air, half hard and slapping against his muscular thigh as he walked around. He swaggered over to his locker, his impossibly big ass jiggling with every step, and tossed the soaked red jockstrap inside for someone else to find, before swaggering out of the locker room, completely naked.

The jock who had formerly been Carlos walked confidently towards Coach Simmons’ office, the last vestiges of Carlos’ intelligence remembering that he needed to get something from the lost and found, though he couldn’t quite remember what. He opened the door to Coach Simmons’ office, and found a shocked looking Simmons sitting at his desk. Coach Simmons was an older man, an out of shape ex jock in his mid fifties, with balding gray hair and a large beer gut. Carlos had always tried to get along with Coach Simmons, but the wrestling coach had a habit of pretending that anyone who couldn’t lift at least 220 didn’t exist. Now however, Coach was definitely noticing Carlos, standing up in shock as the naked wrestler entered his office, his cock still dripping with leftover cum. Simmons’ stood up, a look of outrage on his face, but was stopped in his tracks as Carlos’ musky, manly smell hit him. What had he been so angry about again? Simmons’ felt some of the fat on his body melt away, regaining some of the muscles he had in the old days as his hair seemed to darken and grow back. In moments Coach Simmons’ looked less like a college wrestling coach, and more like a DILF pornstar pretending to be one. “Boy!” Simmons said, finally remembering he had been angry at the latino jock that had entered his office “Why the hell are you out of uniform?” He said. Suddenly the fact that Carlos wasn’t wearing his wrestling gear was far more important than the fact that he didn’t have anything on at all. It was time for practice damnit, and he didn’t need his star wrestler falling behind. “Oh! Uh, sorry coach. I think my singlet got shrunk in the wash or something.” The sweat covered jock said dumbly, vaguely remembering a singlet that was far too small for someone of his size. 

“Goddamnit Maestre, do I need to fuck some sense into that head of yours?” Simmons said “You can all be as dumb and slutty as you want in your free time, but when you’re at practice you have to remember to bring your singlet!” Maestre? Was Coach Simmons talking to him? But that wasn’t his name, was it? “Sorry Coach Rocks! I didn’t mean to forget.” The latino hunk said apologetically “Can I get a backup singlet?” He asked Coach Rocks glared at the jock for a moment, before smirking “... You can have the extra singlet Max. But first, you’ve got to earn it. On your knees boy!” Maximilano ‘Max’ Maestre fell onto his knees, his huge cock almost slapping against his abs as he did and his dumb mouth wide open. He knew that he should try not to lose his singlet so much, but it was hard not to, especially when Coach Rocks made the punishment so fun! In moments Coach Rocks had Max deep throating his cock, his huge balls slapping against Max’s strong cleft chin and chiseled jaw. Max moaned as Coach roughly fucked his face, and felt the mans large hands grope at his own massive shoulders. Max loved being a slut for Coach, just like everyone else on the wrestling team! And as the best wrestler on the team, Max was the one who got first dibs at worshipping his cock after practice. The others could get jealous sometimes, but there was always plenty to go around.

Coach Rocks pulled his cock out of Max’s mouth, before smacking him across the face with his 14 inch rocket, making Max moan wantonly. He grabbed Max, pulling him up into a deep, sultry kiss as he groped at his incredible fat ass, pulling apart the massive cheeks with both hands and pushing his cock inside of Max in one fluid movement. Max moaned slutily, moving up and down on Coach’s cock as his own was sandwiched between both of their abs.

“Coach! Fuck I need you coach! You’re so fucking hot! I love your cock Coach!” Max moaned wantonly, a stupid, fucked out look on his face 

“Goddamn it kid,” Coach Rocks panted out “You keep saying sweet, slutty shit like that and I’m gonna…” Coach groaned loudly, before shooting his load deep inside Max’s jiggling ass. Max felt the warm cum flood his insides, and with another massive moan, shot out cum across his and Coach Rocks abs. Coach Rocks grinned, his tone fond despite his stern words “You are such a messy slut, aren’t you boy?” “Hehehe, yeees.” Max said dumbly, moaning as he pulled himself off of Coach Rocks’ cock “Alright, a deal is a deal. Clean yourself up and grab your singlet. And maybe some regular clothes too. I don't need my star player getting arrested afterall.” Coach Rock said, tossing Max a spare towel, a singlet, and some clothes. Max just giggled dumbly and wiped some cum off his abs. Fuck he loves his life.

—

Max swaggered across the quad, accompanied by the everyday sounds of his jiggling ass and his huge cock smacking against his thigh. For some reason there was an extra pep in his step, though he couldn’t tell why. Sure he had just gotten fucked stupid by Coach, but he did that all the time. And yeah, he had an awesome day of wrestling, but he had been wrestling since middle school. Still, there was something about the day that reminded him of the first time he made the wrestling team, something about the day that made him feel like his future was all ahead of him. Maybe it was the clothing Coach had given him. The red stringer tanktop that did basically nothing to hide his pecs, and the posing shorts that showed off her whole ass, did look good on him. He was hot enough that he looked good in basically anything, but the showy clothing had him feeling especially sexy. As Max strut through the campus, he didn’t notice that girls seemed to be avoiding him, or that guys got a strange, hazy look in their eyes just by being close to him. He didn’t see the effect his manly musk had on the people around him. He didn’t notice anyone, at least until he saw Fred.

Carlos hadn’t really known Fred that well. He had known of Fred, had seen the somewhat short, red haired twink around the school, either talking with other nerdier students or just people watching, but had never actually talked to him. Max, however, couldn’t take his eyes off of him, or more specifically his ass. Fuck, how had Max not already fucked that juicy, cute ass? Was he blind? Was this guy some sort of transfer that hadn’t come within a hundred miles of this school before today? That was the only excuse he could think of for not having made this twink his ages ago. Fred was standing by a water fountain, giving Max a perfect view of his ass, and without even thinking about it, Max quickly made his way over and groped Fred's butt with one of his meaty hands. Fred instinctively tried to jump forward, only to inhale a ton of musk, that left Fred dazed and relaxing into the comfortable feeling of a massive jock massaging his ass. He giggled dumbly as he felt his body slim, fat seeming to travel down from other parts of his body and into his hips, which grew even juicy. His features softened, becoming cute and almost dainty as he let loose a sweet, feminine moan. Fred looked back, not seeing a stranger but now seeing…

“Maxie!” The redhead giggled, happy to see his boyfriend, or at least one of them, grabbing and playing with his bubble butt. The jock gave a deep, fond and amused chuckle as he almost drooled over the twink, who looked like he had been yanked out of a cheesy porno. It seemed like everyone Max interacted with became a porn version of themselves, though Max didn’t seem to notice.

“Hey Red. You’re looking, like, fucking sexy.” Max said, getting another dumb giggle from the former nerd “Awe, you’re so good with words baby!” Red said with a ditzy laugh. 

Max pulled down Red’s pants, revealing his juicy, jiggly bubble butt to the cold air, and shoved a finger in almost casually, getting Red to moan wantonly “M-maxie! We might get caught!” Red whined, wiggling his ass needily despite his protest “C’mon babe, who's gonna stop us?” Max said with a grin, kissing Red’s neck as he added another finger, and then another. For Coach Rocks Max was another needy jock meant to ride his cock, but for Red, Max was a sex god for him to worship. Max pulled out his fingers, getting a needy gasp from Red, before sliding his fat footlong cock inside of him, starting to fuck the twink well he was half bent over a waterfountain out in the middle of the west quad. Not that anyone seemed to mind. Girls seemed to avoid the area entirely, leaving like there was a bad smell and not seeming to even notice the raunchy sex, well guys seemed to be hypnotized by the very sight, whipping out their cocks are beginning to jerk off to the sight as they either gained a ridiculous amount of muscle and became dumb porn jocks, or slimmed down to become cute twinks. Soon the open sex show became a straight up orgy as Max’s thick balls smacked against Red’s thick, beautiful ass. As Max and Red got into a trance like rhythm, Red bouncing on Max’s cock, Max began to thrust faster as he felt his release approached. Red moaned sluttily and came across the grass, before Max came deep inside him. Just as quickly as it started, the orgy dispersed, some of the men remaining transformed, well others began to revert, confused looks on their faces as they wandered off. Max pulled up Red’s pants, smacked his ass, and gave the twink a deep kiss. Red had been one of Max’s favorite lays, ever since they met in freshman year. Max would never be satisfied with one hole, or one cock, but Red was one of the people he had the strongest romantic feelings for, and he knew Red felt the same. 

“See you later babes.” Max said, giving Red a deep kiss that left him panting and breathless. Red walked off, cum dribbling down his pant leg as Max started to head down the quad again. Where was he supposed to go again? He always felt like he was forgetting one thing or another. Maybe he should go fuck someone again. That could help him focus better, right?

—

Maximilano ‘Max’ Maestre fucking loved wrestling. He had been a huge fan of wrestling ever since he was a kid, but that wasn’t really why he liked it so much these days. These days Max loved wrestling because of the hot, raw sex. He hadn’t realized it, but in the nearly twenty four hours that had gone by since he had been transformed from the scrawny hopeful wrestler Carlos Torres into the hypersexual himbo wrestler Max Maestre, he had managed to inadvertently transform about half of the wrestling team into himbos too. It seemed like whatever had happened to the wrestler was somewhat contagious, with anyone he interacted with directly being transformed into a pornographic, parody-like version of themselves. Every interaction, from working out with some of his fellow wrestlers, to saying hi to a roommate, to talking to one of his professors, ended with everyone involved becoming a hypersexualized version of themselves, which usually also resulted in, well, sex. And because Carlos, now Max, was friends with most of the guys on the wrestling team, they had been some of the first to be transformed. 

Max swaggered into the wrestling gym, the outline of his massive cock clearly visible through his red singlet, which was almost comically stretched across his incredibly muscular body. His grin, full of a stupid confidence that only jocks like him seemed to have, grew even bigger as he saw one of his best friends, Tommy, already waiting for him. Tommy, who had been a fairly friendly wrestler named Tim before the change, was a Korean stud muffin with biceps that looked almost ridiculously big, even to Max’s warped perception. Max immediately sauntered over to Tommy and smacked him on the ass, getting a dumb chuckle from his friend, whose ass was still jiggling as he turned to see him. “Bro! Glad to see you didn’t forget your singlet this time.” Tommy said, playfully punching Max on the shoulder “I was sure you’d be looking for another dicking down from Coach.” “What can I say man? I gotta keep some fuel in the tank for the rest of you.” Max said with a dumb chuckle that flowed from his mouth like water. “Who the unlucky fucker whose going up against me today anyways?” Max asked, wanting to know who he’d be paired up against today. 

“You’re looking at him!” Tommy said with a grin and a playful wink “We’re the first match of the day too! You better not go easy on me man.” He said with a competitive smirk

“Oh you know I won’t.” Max said. As the familiar sound of Coach Rocks’ whistle echoed throughout the gym, Max and Tommy chest bumped and headed to opposite sides of the ring. It was time for their match. Both jocks got into position, and at Coach Rocks’ signal, the match began.

Max and Tommy quickly began to grapple, their massive muscles flexing as their bodies pressed together. Max managed to get Tommy to the ground, his pecs pushed into his face, but the next moment Tommy had Max on the ropes, his manly bulge pressed against the other wrestler's face. The two continued like this, expertly taking the other down, only to fail to contain their hypermuscular opponent. Max, now soaked in both his and Tommy’s sweat, grinned eagerly, not in spite of the difficult challenge but because of it. Not being able to take Tommy out right away meant he had an excuse to take out the big guns. Max managed to pin Tommy down just long enough to start grinding his thick footlong cock against Tommy’s muscular ass. Max smirked as Tommy moaned and shuddered at the feeling, knowing the other boy had lost his focus. Tommy was an excellent wrestler, but Max knew all his weak points, and that Tommy had a soft spot for Max’s rock hard cock. In a flurry of movements, Max somehow managed to keep Tommy down while also stripping off both of their singlets, the wrestling match quickly morphing into a live sex show, one that Coach Rocks and the other wrestlers were clearly enjoying. Max shoved his cock deep inside Tommy, whose ass eagerly swallowed his friend's throbbing member inside of him. Tommy, trying to get back control, groped at Max’s pecs, making the other wrestler moan wantonly but not managing to throw him off enough to let Tommy free himself. Max began to fuck Tommy roughly into the wrestling mat, Coach Rocks seeming to tap the ground as slowly as possible to let the show go on as much as he could, every tap accompanied by another thrust by Max. One, two, three, – Tommy pushed back against the thrusting, both hoping to get free and hoping to get Max’s cock even deeper inside of him  – four, five, six, – Max managed to get his mouth on Tommy’s left pec, kissing and worshiping the wrestlers chest in a way that left the Korean hunk trembling with pleasure – seven, eight, nine – Max took Tommy into a deep, dominating kiss, before with a final thrust – ten. Max finally came, shooting a cumshot deep inside Tommy that was so big it left a puddle on the floor around them, just as he was declared winner of the match. Max panted, smiling with almost delirious pleasure and trying to catch his breath as he pulled out of his friend and helped him to his feet.

“Told you I wouldn’t go easy on your bro.” Max said with a breathless chuckle, wiping some cum from his friend's thigh as they left the ring.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way bro.” Tommy said, chuckling along with Max as cum dripped from his ass. Max grinned and grabbed a towel, hoping to clean himself off a bit well as they watched the next match. Goddamn, Max fucking loved wrestling. 

—

“I will never get what your thing about the sauna is.” Tommy said with a chuckle as he, alongside Max and the rest of the wrestling team, stripped down in the locker room “I mean seriously man, I love a steam bath as much as anyone, but who the hell gets purposely more sweaty after spending hours wrestling?” He said, teasing Max slightly. “Someone who goddamn loves being sweaty.” Max said with a grin “You’re just jealous of my incredible musk.” he said, flexing his biceps and letting everyone get a deep whiff of his sweaty, musky armpits. Although he was joking, Max didn’t seem to realize that his musky smell seemed to have an actual affect on the other jocks, who all moaned as the same stench that was part of their original transformation flooded their senses once again.

“Not gonna lie bro, that is hot as fuck…” Tommy said, almost drooling, before quickly collecting himself “But one of these days you’re gonna, like, passout from the hear or something. Just be careful, ok brah?”

Max chuckled happily, and nodded “Alright bro, I’ll be careful. Now, go take a shower of whatever it is the rest of you guys do after practice.” He said, before swaggering off towards the school sauna, still completely naked, his huge cock slapping against his thigh as he walked, just like usual.

Max entered the sauna alone, taking a deep breath as he did. He knew that it was a little strange to actively make himself warmer after practice instead of trying to cool down, but there was something about the warm feeling under his skin that was just addictive to the himbo. He sat down in the sauna, allowing himself to spread, and let himself enjoy the feeling of steam on his sweaty, sexy body. It wasn’t long before Max felt his cock grow hard, getting a chuckle from the jock. He had always been a huge horndog, at least as long as he remembered, so it wasn’t that strange that he was already ready for another round. What was strange however was that there was no one else around to help him. That was weird. Max was constantly hooking up with people, his friends, his boyfriend, his teachers, coach. It had been ages since he had actually had to, like, jerk off himself. Max moaned as he grabbed his own cock with both his hands, slowly stroking himself and feeling the heat of the sauna on his dick. Fuck, he almost forgot how good he was at this, hehe. He continued to slowly stroke and jerk at his 12 inch cock, his mind drifting to his many sexy hook ups throughout the day. There was Coach Rocks, Red, and Tommy of course, but also his roommate slash live-in cum slut Bill, his friends from the Sigma Epsilon Chi frat, who threw the wildest orgies on campus, Professor Braddock, who was an absolute fucking DILF who loved to tutor Max on how to take cock, and countless others. Fuck, his life was absolutely amazing. There was some part of him, deep down, that seemed to say that this was wrong, that his life wasn’t some massive gay porno, that he wasn’t like this, but that voice was quickly forgotten in the rush of lust as he began to hump his own hands, going faster and rougher as he approached the finale. He moaned deeply as he shot out a truly massive spurt of come, painting the walls of the sauna as he came, again and again and again. He let loose a final cumshot, hitting the hot stones of the sauna, which evaporated the cum and filled not only the sauna but the entire locker room with a familiar musky scent.

Max got up from his seat and left the sauna, a dumb smile on his face as he did. He didn’t think to clean up the mess he left before. He didn’t think of anything. He made his way back over to his locker, only to find all his clothing had disappeared! Had he lost his clothing again? He was starting to think people were just stealing his shit cause they wanted to see him naked. It made sense with a body like his. Fortunately, he noticed a familiar jockstrap sitting at the bottom of his locker. Max grinned and took the musky, well used jock out of his locked and slipped it on without a second thought. He fucking loved his lucky jock! He had been wearing it since high school, and it had brought him nothing but good fortune. He could honestly say he didn’t know where he’d be without his lucky jock. 

Being a roomate with a super star jock has its perks and disadvantages. I can secretly gawk at his giant furry muscle body and knee swinging cock when walk around naked. Unfortunately he has a philosophy of “might make right” and “size make a man” so he basically makes me his servant. If he so sure about those philosophies then I’ll test them. I wait until the jock fall asleep before I have my fun. I take out my phone to transfer my roommate prize jewel to me while leaving him barely a quarter inch pecker and a set of raisin. I also make his muscles bigger for my own enjoyment. It’s fun to see part of him inflate while the other deflated. Let see which of us is the bigger man here by the time we wake up tomorrow. I do need to get used to walking with a cock that nearly touch the floor and pair of weighted full balls.

So, it turns out that according to your roommate 'size makes a man' only applies when he has the size. Once he realized you had somehow stolen his cock, he immediately tried to beat you up. Luckily for you, the threat of getting rid of his entire cock was enough to keep him in line. In fact, holding his remaining masculinity hostage has gotten him to do a lot of things now, which is good considering how horny your new massive member makes you. He wasn't very happy about the arrangement at first, but once you started bribing him with some extra muscle growth every time he gets you off he becomes a lot more eager. He gets the might, you get the size, and the two of you are finally happy with your roommate situation. Good for you!

---

Coach has called my boyfriend and I into his office because we were failing PE. But right after we arrived there he closed the door and shouted that in a few hours we won't fail his subject ever again. What could he mean?

You couldn't remember why you ever thought you hated gym class. Gym class fucking ruled! It was a chance for you and your boyfriend to show off your awesome muscles, workout like the studly jocks you are, and prove your dedication to Coach!

Lately though Coach seemed, like, a little upset. He keeps mumbling about a "flaw in the conditioning" and "Not able to rewrite relationships" or something. You don't know whats got Coach so down, but you're gonna work hard to be the best jock you can and cheer him up! Thats what matters afterall, being a good jock for coach! And your boyfriend, obviously. You couldn't imagine a life without your boyfriend.

---

I’m the president of the LGBT club. And I also happen to have a genie’s lamp. I used one of the wishes to turn myself into a towering jock top hunk alpha male gay and QB of the team, but I still wasn’t able to steal that last guys boyfriend with my new body. The wish also had unintended consequences. It made me deeply closeted and homophobic. I’ve tried to fight it, but after Coach confided in me what he’d done to the two boys, I decided that if I couldn’t have him, nobody can. Then I figured out a way around the genie’s “no interfering with true love” rule. What if I made that true love impossible? And it would finally solve all this self-loathing I have. So I’m using my second wish. I wish homosexuality never existed as a concept and was literally unthinkable, even for me, with no memory for anyone of the previous reality, just a world where the alpha straight dumb jock shallow hierarchy rules and all women are needy bimbos who worship height and muscle. There will never have been homosexuals and never will be. I’m a little worried about what kind of person I’ll become since I’ve been managing my bullying toxic macho alpha male urges well enough, but I don’t care anymore. Let all be straight, toxic, a manosphere nightmare.

… I'm sorry, let me make sure I understand. You're so upset that you weren't able to steal the boyfriend of the person from the story above you, that you've decided to use a genie, one of the most powerful forms of reality bending magic in existence, to eliminate all homosexuality and turn everyone into toxic douchebags?

This isn't going to be pretty----------------

AMNSIIJJBEHJI)IUJREWRITEFNUI#*(H&EHUSJIKO@

Sup bro! I usually love getting messages from fans, but I gotta admit, this one doesn't make any fucking sense to me. Gay? I don't know what that means, but it sounds like a knockoff version of Whey huhuhu.

look, let me give you some advice dude. Quit taking about this crazy bullshit, or you're never gonna get a girl to fuck. I mean, bimbos ain't that smart, but even they can get annoyed when someone starts spewing random bullshit… I mean, unless you've got like a 12 inch cock or something bro, then they don't give a fuck what you say, or how you treat them, hahaha.

look, I got a bitch with some huge tits I've been dying to motorboat, so I'm gonna go for now. But hey, I can tell from those 20 inch biceps you're a total alpha, just like me. You ever wanna workout together or something, let me know. I bet we could get tons of chicks. See you bro!

---

It’s my birthday and my biggest wish is that I could experience massive muscle growth and wake up as a huge super roided pro bodybuilder with a nice thick roid gut. and never have to work again cause I get sponsors and stuff. Maybe even get a hot husband out if it since I’m also fucking horny from my roids?

I hope you enjoy the little gift I've sent you! If you haven't guessed, they're not normal exactly normal roids. If you've already taken them, you know they'll have you growing absolutely huge in a matter of minutes, not months or years. You'll be ruling the bodybuilding circut in no time, and any accusation of roids will be put to rest at the sight of your huge cock. No one of scaaaary roids could be that hung, could they? Soon you'll have dozen of sponsors willing to pay you just to flex and hold whatever product they want. Oh, and I'll also be sending you a very eager and horny twink who can't wait to meet his new, incredibly muscular husband. Happy birthday man. I hope this next year will be even better.

---

I decide to fiddle with the Chronivac app. I turn off the reality bending setting for this test. Since I do not want to do something drastic with one of the safeguard up I decide to just press a simple button. When a frat jock and skittish nerd come up to present their project, I hit the “alpha swap” button. The jock looks bored out of his mind tell me that he make the nerd does everything. Well instead of falling asleep to the presentation, the entire lecture hall going to enjoy the swap feature I discovered.

You had to admit, you weren't sure what you were expecting when you swapped a nerd and a jock in the middle of class, knowing that everyone would see everything that happened, but panic wasn't one of them. Half of the class stood in shock as they watched the frat boy seem to shrink and the wallflower pack on muscles, while the other half started screaming and even running from the room, convinced there was some kind of gas leak or something. The only people who didn't freak out were the nerd, and the sorority girl sitting right next to him. As the shy nerd visibly gained both muscle and confidence, you watched the blonde girl look at him with a mix of confused shock and undisguised lust.

The really weird thing was how quickly people adapted to the new reality, even without it actually being changed. After some whining from the former jock, and some reassurance that they weren't hallucinating, people seemed to just… kind of accept it. What else were they supposed to do? they had no proof of what had happened, and it didn't seem like anyone was hurt - besides the former jock, and people didn't really like him - So after a lot of confusion they just sort of moved forward. Within a week the former geek had joined the football team and was dating the soroity girl he had met in class. People have a surprising capacity to accept the strange.

Although, things haven't remained completely changed. A bunch of nerds have been camped out in your classroom, either trying to study the phenomenon or actively hoping they'll be the next to be changed. So, your class might need to meet somewhere else for a while

Morph based on: @thehunterdawson

With summer coming to an end I’m wishing I could enjoy it more for a while. If only I lived near the ocean and could be taught to surf by one of those hunky surfer bros.

You might remember me mentioning a place called Baxter Beach in some of my earlier posts. I normally don't do this, but I've send you the GPS coordinates. It might be difficult for you to make it down there this summer, but I assure you it's worth it. You'll get to experience a a couple weeks as a sexy surfer, and chase some somes with the feeling of the sun tanning your massive muscles. Heck, if your lucky you might even get that summer romance you've always dreamed of

I hope you enjoy the rest of the summer man! And hey, who says all the fun has to end there? Theres plenty more to come

---

My neighbor is a very hot muscular guy but sadly he's a extremely rude, mean and homophobic person that has been treating me horribly and harassing me for years. Could you help me get my revenge on him?

Sometimes the best revenge is a life well lived. In this case, his life! I don't usually do bodyswaps, but giving you your neighbors muscular, sexy body, well trapping him inside yours seems like a fitting punishment. For a little extra revenge, we'll make it so he gets your sexuality when he enters your body, but yours stays the same, so you get to enjoy your new body with as many twinks as you want, and he gets to know what its like to lust after his hunky neighbor

---

help me settle a debate im having with myself… who has the better sex life between the jacked clean aesthetic charming gay bartender at a gay club or the straight bouncer, equally if not more buff, but a very different vibe… gruff takes his smoke break alone yknow? it seems like based on what you do here you would have an expert opinion

I've transformed a lot of people at this point, enough that I could probably figure out which option is more fun by asking around. But I feel like that isn't very scientific, y'know? Important questions like this demand close examination. So, I'm going to turn you into both the gay Bartender and the straight bouncer!

I've been splitting people into two people a lot lately, and I've actually really enjoyed it, but this time I think it makes sense to just transform you into the gay hunk the first night, and the straight bouncer the next. No need to make things more complicated than they have to be after all.

The first night is amazing. You've got a sexy body, a handsome face, and enough charm that every twink in the club is getting incredibly drunk just trying to get your attention. You spend the night flirting, getting heavy tips, and take home the cutest twink you can find for hours upon hours of intense sex.

The second night is also awesome, in a completely different way. You're a beast of muscles, and the looks of lust you get from everyone who comes through the club gives you a major ego boost. Granted, most of them are gay guys, but hey, worship is worship, and there are plenty of girls staring you too. You'll spend the night basking in peoples lustful gazes, showing off to some, intimidating others, and end the night by taking the hottest bisexual girl you can find home for some incredibly rough, animalistic and raw sex.

So, which is better? Well… neither! or both really! Comparing the experiences is like comparing apples and oranges. Both situations have you being adored, paid and laid, and even if you do have a preference, thats probably all it is, a preference. There is no objectively better choice.

That being said, I'd personally chose to be the bouncer again. Have you seen those pecs? Goddamn~

---

Currently dating a coach for a private wrestling club. He’s a sweet middle age man with a hefty gut and soft body. There is some old muscle underneath and he’s so hairy it’s like hugging a big Latino teddy bear. He’s pretty big in my eyes but this place are full of homophobic wrestlers that looks like giants compare to my bf. I decide to pull the Chronivac out and give my teddy bear a boost. I did it once before, giving my boyfriend a bit more libido and cock size. I was going up his size a slight bit but accidentally hit max all on everything (belly, muscles, testosterone, cock, balls, height, etc…). It won’t let me revert the changes so I decide to fiddle with the all the wrestlers in the club instead. I decided it would be funny tap the min all in everything for all the club members my boyfriend coaching. The change is graduate over the hours so I just put my phone back and go out to watch him coach thinking nothing about it.

You should be really glad you kept the "realistic human limits" guideline on, because if you hadn't then setting everything to max probably would have ended with the destruction of the entire city by a 400 foot tall muscle bear, which could be hot in it's own way but probably wouldn't have ended well. So, instead of becoming a literal giant with a kaiju sized cock, you're boyfriend is only going to become a figurative monster instead of a literal one. Over 9 feet tall, with shoulders wider than most wardobes, muscles that could bend steel and a muscle gut that juts out under his equally huge pecs. You'll get to watch over the next few hours as your boyfriend becomes an incredibly large, sexy, god of a man. And because his clients are no longer homophobic athletes but scrawny, desperate men who pay for his couching out of a either desire to become even a quarter of the man he is, or a desperate desire to be close to his muscular body, he's also rich as fuck. Turns out a coach as big as a truck is in heavy demand.

The best part is that underneath it all he's still your teddy bear. Still the same sweet guy who makes you feel like you're the entire world. He's just huge, way more confident, and rich as hell. Although, the fact that reality has changed so that you're now a client, and are twice your previous size, is also a huge plus.

---

hey, I am a nerdy guy and freshman in college…I wish I didn't look so boyish. Maybe if I had more hair and muscle the other guys would take me seriously. Maybe I'd even be able to play a sport or two.

Welcome to Beta Delta Epsilon bro! You might be a bit of a weakling now, but give us a week. Soon, we'll have you beefy, hairy, playing football and slaying pussy! You're gonna be a total bro, just like the rest of us, huhuhu! And this will be you as a freshman! By the time you're a senior? You're going to be an absolute fucking beast!

Want to be a part of the new world order? Check out the master post here!

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

“You haven’t heard about this yet?” Jack mused as he sprawled out on Harry’s bed. The other two boys shook their heads, with Harry preoccupied with some video game and Charlie busy crocheting in the corner. The three friends had been stuck together since their primary school days, choosing to go to the same university together, too. Now, they were roommates, sharing an apartment as they figured out their lives as young adults. Over the years, the three of them had gotten comfortable with their status as being “nerds,” finding that they were comfortable with their own personal hobbies and interests, regardless of what other people would think. While they had been picked on for their appearance in high school and for their lack of physical fitness and general scrawniness in university, the three of them relied on each other for support. As such, there was a certain level of comfort level they had with each other, and the three of them often spent time hanging out in one of their rooms.

“What is it?” Charlie asked, only pausing from his project to look over at Jack. The young man grinned as he wiggled his phone screen for the other two to look at.

“It’s some new audio craze that’s been sent around. Like those old email chains where you have to send it to ten other friends, or those creepypasta stories you’d read online. Apparently, you get a mysterious email telling you to download the audio file, and it just auto-deletes the email after opening it,” Jack said with a grin as he pulled up the downloaded file.

Harry snorted from his gaming chair, only pausing the game to look over at his friend with a skeptical expression. “It just sounds like some sort of scam. Or a virus that they convinced you to download,” he mused. When it came to tech-savvy things, Harry was probably the best at it. There was no way he would have downloaded some creepy, mysterious audio file from an email address he’d never heard of. But Harry also knew just how much Jack loved the occult, the supernatural, and conspiracy theory stuff. Once his friend found something to latch onto, he rarely let go.

Jack shook his head in protest, flashing the screen of his phone towards the gamer. “No way! I double and triple-checked first. Ran it through the virus software stuff and whatever. It came up clean. I’m dying to know what’s on it, aren’t you?” he said eagerly. But before the two of them had a chance to respond, the young man’s brows furrowed in mild annoyance at a text coming through from his phone. “Oh crap…” he muttered.

Charlie, the more thoughtful of the trio, nodded his head towards Jack’s sudden shift in demeanor. “What’s wrong? Did something come up?”

Sighing, the other young man nodded in mild annoyance. “I totally forgot I had to pick up something from my parents’ place,” he groaned, smacking his forehead in light frustration. It wasn’t a big deal, given that Jack’s family home was only a few minutes away with a quick drive. But it was clear the wind was knocked out of his sails from the anticipation of the mysterious audio file. Harry, unfazed at the sudden change, only shrugged his shoulders as he turned his attention back to the game.

“No biggie. Just go grab it, and then we can listen to it when you’re back. Not like any of us have plans today anyway.”

Charlie nodded in agreement from his corner of the room, but Jack shook his head in disagreement. “No way! I can hardly wait. Plus, the whole thing’s like a few hours long. Here, I’ll hook it up first, and you guys can start listening. I’m sure it won’t take me that long anyway, and you can just catch me up on what I missed,” he said quickly, already rambling as he reached over to grab Harry’s Bluetooth speakers off his nightstand. Before the other two had a chance to protest or even register what was going on, Jack was tossing his phone over to Charlie. “Here! I’ll be back real quick! Just let me know if I missed out on something good!” he called out. The young man all but barreled out of the room, leaving the remaining two staring after him in mild confusion.

“...You know he’s just going to listen to it on his own later,” Harry muttered as his eyes turned back towards his computer screen. “I don’t see why we could’ve just waited.”

Sighing, Charlie set aside his hooks and yarn to pick up his friend’s phone that had landed on his lap. “You know how he gets; anything he’s interested in, he just wants to share it with us,” he said with a small shrug of his bony shoulders. “Just think of it as some background noise,” the young man mused. The two of them came to a silent agreement, with Charlie hitting play, before resuming his crochet crafting.

The file itself wasn’t as occultish or supernatural as Jack might have been hoping. In fact, all that spilled out from the speaker was a deep, baritone voice reading off some text. Or maybe he was reciting it from memory. The specifics were unknown, but it was clear that the recitation was based on a decree or fundamental guidelines. Truths, as the mysterious speaker called them.

Amidst Charlie’s attempts to focus on his project, he couldn’t help but furrow his brows in mild annoyance as his fingers slipped up at yet another spot. It was surprisingly difficult to focus today, it seemed. He thought it was because of the background audio, but, surprisingly, it was the only thing the young man could focus on. Any time his mind seemed to wander, Charlie felt the words the man was speaking resonating inside his head. It was as if a person were inside, speaking directly into his thoughts. The noise was both overwhelming and meditative at the same time, and there were moments where he was unsure who was thinking such things in his mind.

He cleared his throat, drawing his gaze away from the tangled mess of yarn to look over at Harry. The young man meant to ask the other man if he was having difficulty concentrating, but his eyes seemed to rest on the other’s broad shoulders peeking out from over the top of his gaming chair. That was strange to Charlie; as far as he remembered, Harry was the smallest of the three of them. He didn’t exactly have those bulging muscles that framed that thick, broad neck of his. Not without spending some time in the gym, and none of them really did that.

Charlie cleared his throat, rubbing at his protruding Adam’s apple as it hung a bit lower than normal. That deep, reverberating bass from the audio file sounded similar to his own voice, but the young man was always so soft-spoken as far as he remembered. Something flicked inside his mind, much like a switch. The mere idea of being so meek and soft-spoken felt… wrong to him. Shouldn’t he take charge of things more? It just felt… right, like it was his god-given nature to be in control.

The shuffling must have distracted Harry from his game, and the other man took off his headphones to look over at Charlie as well. The audio was still playing in the background, but it seemed like neither of them was really listening anymore. Instead, their gaze focused on each other. It was clear something was on their mind, and yet, neither of them could really put a finger on it. “...Hey, do you… feel off?” Harry finally managed to grunt out as he reached down to scratch and rub at his meaty thighs. The dense pillars of pure muscle and meat practically spilled out from his tight gym shorts, with the articles of clothing barely able to contain his sheer size. “Feels like… I’m not… myself. But also, like, this was how things were always meant to be.”

Nodding his head carefully, Chaolie rubbed at the sprouts of hair sprouting over his upper lip. Unlike the curly locks of hair on his head, his facial hair was an inky-jet black color, with straight follicles forming a nice patch of fur. “Right? I was gonna say the same thing… When’d you get so big, anyway?” he noted as he scratched at his heavy pecs. It was hard not to pay them some attention, especially when he had such heavy milkers always getting in his way. His biceps brushed up against them as he gestured towards Harrun, his darkening eyes taking in the sight of his friend’s chiseled set of abs popping into view on his stomach. And since when did Harrun game shirtless? Of course, he looked good like that, legs spread to take up every last inch of the chair’s seat. People would often call it man-spreading, but with how big Harrun’s swelling crotch was, it wasn’t like the meaty, muscle man had much of a choice anyway.

“I’m… not sure,” Harjun muttered as he stared back at Chaoli with a mixed expression. “When’d you dye your hair black?” he managed to grunt out as his flared back pushed him off the chair. Stumbling forward, he scrunched his eyes shut as more unfamiliar thoughts began to spill into his mind. Why was he so bothered about being shirtless with his best friend? They had the bodies of gods; they needed to show it off. Everyone else was an inferior, shrimpy weakling that paled in comparison. Clothes were always such a hassle, unless they were skin-tight. The mere idea of dominating and controlling things felt more right inside Harjun’s mind, and he reached down to help pull Chaoli up to his feet. “It looks good, though. We look good,” he said firmly. It wasn’t up for debate, not when their bouncing pecs were pressed up against each other, and the other man’s hands were busy rubbing and groping at Harjun’s flexed biceps.

“We do,” Chaoyi confirmed, his expression morphing into that of calm, certain confidence. Of course, there wasn’t any reason for him to fear or be concerned. As Viltrumites, they were invincible. Gods amongst mere mortals on this Earthly plane. Why they had to spend time dwelling amongst these mongrels was beneath him, but at least he was allowed to be with Hanjun throughout this experience. “Must we continue with this charade? Surely the two of us are enough to conquer the planet so we can continue expanding the empire,” he muttered as he playfully tweaked the other’s puffy nipple. Chaoyi smirked at the low groan he drew out from his Viltrumite partner, feeling Hanjun’s hefty shaft start to twitch and brush up against his inner thighs.

“...Soon. But for now, we wait until we get our orders,” Hanjun groaned out, his gaze flickering over to the audio file still playing off the human’s phone. Peeling himself away from his sweaty companion, the large man pressed pause and turned off the speaker set-up. This sort of thing was meant only for those who were worthy. Chosen. Destined to become great and powerful. Ordained to rule.

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

Jack sighed as he unlocked the front door to his apartment, lugging in two bags of clothes and miscellaneous items his parents had pawned off onto him for storage. He had expected it to be a quick trip, with a simple pickup lasting no more than a few minutes. But his mom had sidetracked him, having a chat about house sitting for them next weekend, taking better care of his own health, and bringing his friends over next time for a family dinner. The whole ordeal lasted a couple of hours, since his dad decided it was the perfect time for Jack to lend a hand with the yardwork he was doing in the blazing afternoon sun. But with all that handled, he was finally back and ready to dive into that recording he was sent. “Sorry it took so long, guys! I’m back, though. What’d I miss?”

The young man turned around after locking the door behind him, confused by the deep, heavy thumping noises that he heard. But his eyes widened in surprise at the sight of two shirtless, practically naked muscle bulls staring back at him with a hungry look in their eyes. Unlike the meek and nerdy friends he was used to seeing waiting for him, these two Asian hunks looked like the complete opposite. Cocky. Confident. Strong. Hungry.

“Took you long enough,” the one on the left growled as they both began stalking towards Jack. Frozen like a deer in headlights, Jack’s body began to respond for him in ways that he couldn’t. It only took a little push from the other stranger on his shoulder to send the young man down to his knees, and he was left with a rather explicit eyeful of both of their heavy, strained packages practically bursting out the seams of their tight shorts. “I thought we were going to have to find a new bitch boy to serve us and satiate our needs,” the man continued, the deep bass in his voice vibrating through Jack’s skull. The resounding words almost felt like a command, something that he couldn’t refuse or reject. Jack’s eyes widened as his body reacted in turn, forcing his head forward to press his nose up against those heavy, clothed bulges. The deep moans of approval seemed to elicit a wave of pleasure through Jack’s own scrawny body.

“That’s it…” The other man chuckled as he placed a meaty, heavy-handed paw at the back of Jack’s head. “You wanted to know what you missed? Just the sight of your two best friends turning into mere gods while you were doing fuck-all-else.” A quick glance upwards, past the shredded abs and heaving mounds of pecs, and Jack could see what looked like his phone resting in the man’s large palm. The device looked almost comically small in his grasp, but it was clear that the audio file he was so excited to listen to was still playing on the screen.

“You know,” the large man continued as the other man continued rubbing Jack’s face up against their swelling bulges. “Hanjun and I thought about letting you listen to it, too. Letting you convert. Grow. Evolve.” There was a flicker of hope that lingered in the young man’s eyes, his shocked expression morphing into something of lustful greed and desire. Becoming an absolutely hulked out, muscle god? With a body that he could only dream of? Jack could only offer up muffled whimpers and begs for his former friends to let him experience the same metamorphosis they had undergone.

“But since you decided to make some other things your priority, I think it’s safe to say that you just aren’t worthy,” the man finished with a wolfish smirk lingering on his cocky face. Jack could only gape in despair as he watched Chaoyi crush his phone into a mangled ball of metal with just one hand, dropping the destroyed metal gadget onto the floor next to him. “Not everyone is deserving. Humans like you are better left serving and worshipping us instead.”

“You shouldn’t have waited so long.”