Big Bih's collection of musky men

Growing up in a witches coven had never been the easiest experience for Cato. Most of his life had been spent catering to the elders every whim. It had made him an

adept warlock, but it had been one grueling task after another. The only requests he ever enjoyed taking were those where he could venture into the mortal plane. While the magic ingredient or wondrous item he had to retrieve would never catch his fancy, the men he could have at his fingertips did. For Cato, guys on apps were always easy pickings. He had a handsome face, a slim, muscular build, and the charms to woo any man he talked to on the app. Plus, the occasional spell never hurt.

Still, it never really mattered who it was to Cato. He could always find something attractive to focus on with every guy. The only problem he ever had was with peoples personalities. Usually hookups would go exceedingly well, he would show up at their place and show them the time of their lives with even the cooler men ending up their knees begging for more by the end of it. Sometimes though Cato go so repulsed by his hookup’s attitude his plans for the night change dramatically. Sex hexes are one of Cato’s specialties and he always knows exactly the spell to make sure douche bags and assholes get what they deserve.

In all honesty, Cato suspected his magic hijinks turned him on more than normal sex; something about watching his hookups begin to realize what he had done to them riled up his most primal desires. When he was especially horny, he made a point to find the douchiest guy on the app to teach a lesson. Whether it was covering their body in a forest of hair or taking away their hard-earned muscles, Cato always came the hardest when he watched the man he was with come to the realization they would have to now live with their new body. Most of them would start to cry and beg for their old lives back but Cato’s favorites were those who accepted and even enjoyed the change, so much so that they want another spell to be cast on them. He always made sure to get their numbers afterwards. He always put the same name in their phones: Merlin.

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After a long week of collecting things for the coven elders, Cato had built up quite the sex drive and was feeling almost ravenous for a mortal to play with later. He scrolled through his contact list but found no appeal in any of his pst suitors. After 2 or 3 hexes, he found that the men lost their appeal to him. No longer were they the arrogant men he loved to change but addicts chasing the explosive orgasm of their first transformation. Cato opened his dating app and began his hunt for a new toy, scrolling past the kind-looking, well meaning men he would hookup with normally and messaging only the most self-obsessed gym rats nearby. Finally it seems he struck a cord with one, their profile just a single picture of them shirtless in a mirror flexing their arms with a smug smirk.

“Cute pics, come over now and I’ll treat your tight butt and hole the way they were meant to be” the reply read to his simply “Hey” read. Cato left soon after he got the guys address, only to once again miss the bus. Public transport is especially hard when you’re used to teleporting around. While he was waiting a large man in too tight clothing sat down next to him. He usually liked to not draw attention to himself but Cato found it hard to keep from staring at the man’s exposed navel, shown off by the enormity of his gut underneath a shirt that might’ve fit 50 pounds ago. Unfazed by the attention, the man scratched his exposed belly and let out a burp. Cato saw he still had crumbs of food on his shirt and wagered he had stuffed himself very recently somewhere nearby.

The man was a sight to behold, confident in his gluttony and willing to show it off. Cato knew his type, it was easy to tell who are fat but and want to lose weight and those who want to get even bigger. Gainers were always fun to play with, especially ones who are want to experience the extremes even if it’s just temporary. When the next bus arrived, Cato sat close enough to continue to observe him. He couldn’t help but imagine how this man slowly became more and more obsessed with this erotic relationship with food, to the point where he began to show off how large he had become like a prized hog. Once he got off the bus he knew what was going to happen tonight: he was going to fatten up a new hog.

After finding the place and waiting a decent amount of time at the door, his hookup finally let him inside and greeted him. “My apartment is just upstairs, glad to get to see that nice ass in person,” he said with a smirk. “Hope you’re ready to get the best pounding of your life.” Cato could smell the spray deodorant coming off the man, barely masking the odor of someone who had just finished a long workout at the gym. He had to admit, the cocky man had a devilishly hot confidence to him that was supported by his muscular frame. His huge arms bulged out of his tight t-shirt which clung nicely to his meaty pecs. Standing a few inches taller than Cato, his strong torso was supported by two meaty thighs with an impressive bulge sitting in between being shown off by his sweatpants.

Before long the two were in their underwear on the man’s bed, making out and rubbing against each other. Cato slipped his hand into his underwear and held his hard, 7 inch cock in his hand, feeling thick veins running down the surface. In response to the gesture, the man pushed Cato’s head down to his underwear and said “Take a nice whiff. Smells good right?” It became clear these were the underwear he wore to the gym, they smelled like an addictive concoction of ripe sweat and musk. Biting the band of his underwear, Cato maneuvered the garment away from his dick and buried his his nose in the man’s crotch, unable to stop himself from moaning while the smelly wave of testosterone and pheromones rushed up his nostrils. The man slapped Cato’s forehead with his dick, signaling to Cato it needed attention.

He took the long shaft in his mouth and began to work his magic. His tongue flicked around the penis, feeling its veins and tasting the sweat and body odor from the man’s workout. It wasn’t long before the gym rat began to moan, forcing Cato to deep throat his cock. Cato continued the blow job for a while, alternating between a slow and a fast pace to keep his hookup on the edge of bursting down his throat but never taking a break. When it became obvious the man could barely take anymore, Cato sat up and licked the saliva off his mouth. There were some things he wanted to do to make this the most memorable orgasm of his life. “Want to eat my ass?” Cato asked confidently, noting the man’s ecstatic look as he shook his head so Cato would carry on. It was all going according to plan, soon the first part of the hex would be complete.

Cato positioned his bubble butt in the man’s face, rubbing it across his nose and stubbly chin. The man took a deep breath as Cato felt his tongue began to flick around his hole, pushing in barely giving Cato a taste of what’s to come. While the man was distracted by the ass in his face, Cato began to draw on his stomach the mark of gluttony. As his finger danced across the man’s torso, it left behind a black line that soon took shape as a boar inscribed in a ring of symbols. Once complete, it dissolved into his skin. All the while, the man had been performing the act that accounted for the second part of the hex. He had started to become slobbery, hungry for the hole in front of him and relentless with his tongue.

Cato shifted off of him, scared he might forget to come up for air. Usually the men he cast his spells on were not this affected, the man’s apparent affinity for magic would make this interesting. Already his bottom canines had started to protrude, a tell-tale sign the hex was about to be complete, with his deep breathes through his mouth leaving it open to inquiry. His eyes lusted over Cato’s body, portraying a primal instinct to fuck. Cato felt as if he was staring down a boar itself and it filled him with lust. The final pieces were about to be laid, after all the best way to tame a boar is to fatten it up. Cato squatted over the man’s dick and let it slide into his ass, choosing cowboy so he could have the best view of what’s to come. He began to bounce up in down, picking up pace quickly to get the man worked up faster. The man placed his hands on Cato’s torso and began to thrust in time with the bounce, grunting loudly as he railed Cato’s hole.

This action proceeded for a while, both of the men about to burst with ecstasy every time the man’s dick slammed into Cato’s ass. Still Cato payed attention to the man’s mouth, knowing the true show was only about to begin. Once he saw the man’s small tusks fully form, their enlarged size and pointy tips as giveaways to the man’s new boarish nature, he knew it was about time to let him feel the release. “Let’s hear you oink, hog,” Cato commanded devilishly over the man’s loud grunts. The man looked up at Cato, barely able to focus as his mind was fogged up by the rush of dopamine he was experiencing. Soon he seemed to understand what Cato said and let out three loud oinks in a row, each in time with a thrust. On the third oink, he shot an immense load up Cato’s ass, his dick pulsating in Cato’s hole like a vibrator.

At the same moment, Cato shot a load across the man’s torso and the faded sigil began to shine. The ritual was complete. At once the man’s body exploded with fat, coating his once muscular build in a layer of chub. If he was as susceptible to magic as Cato thought, there would be very little muscle left after the hex worked through. Very quickly his behemoth belly slammed into Cato’s body, resounding in a large smack from the force that almost knocked Cato off the few inches of penis that were left uncovered by the pillow of fat on the man’s crotch. His gut was tremendous and soft, giving in to Cato’s hand. He shook the globe sized paunch and watched as the swollen moobs sitting on top jiggled with it. His arms had gained a few inches in circumference but had completely lost any sign of definition; the man’s arms he worked hard for in the gym would only be able to lift food to his face now.

His face had become chubby and soft with a much more grown in beard, almost hiding his new double chin. His jaw itself had grown, now much more pronounced and larger than before and his nose had turned upwards slightly. His brow had protruded out which would have given him the look of a neanderthal had it not have been for his now visible tusks that rose just beyond his upper lip. The gym rat before him had fully transformed into the picture of gluttony: a fat hog with an enormous gut. As Cato continued to jiggle his gut, he began to slide up and down the man’s now 3 inch penis. The exhilaration of the transformation, the new sensitivity of his belly, and Cato’s incessant stimulation of his proved to be too much to handle and he soon came again, gasping for breath in between moans due to how out of shape he had become.

Cato got off the man and continued to play with the mountains of fat in front of him. “Hog, I think it’s about time for you to get fed,” Cato said. “I wouldn’t want you to go hungry. How about I order some pizza.” The man had begun to drool at the sound of food, waiting for the opportunity to stuff his big belly to the brim. “Sounds amazing,” he responded still out of breath. Cato had a feeling the obese man before him was ride to grow to the extremes for him but fattening up his hog slow and steady seemed more fun as of now.

"Come on bro! one puff wont hurt. besides, its a holiday"

You met the man in the woods, hiking with your boyfriend. You forgot it was even a "holiday" to begin with. It was your anniversary and you wanted to just get out and enjoy the day with the love of your life but this man, shirtless, bearded, hairy, and stinking of weed, had to ruin your fun.

"It's not that big of a deal babe." Your boyfriend said.

You boyfriend, like you, was twinky and small. You were almost identical except for his glasses. You both were proud of your hairlessness, your preening, you thought it made you look more put together than men like this one. He was rugged and animalistic while you were refined and civilized. The idea of letting yourself go like that was scary, giving over to addiction, too high to care about what you looked like. But wasn't it kind of hot?

"That's the spirit!" The man said, handing your boyfriend the joint.

You wanted to slap it out of his hand, to save him, but you were too late. The fog of smoke coming off the man had dulled your senses to the point that you were too slow. You watched, helpless, as your boyfriend hit the joint again and again. With each hit he gained weight, lost brain cells, and hair spilled from his cheeks. By the time you finally processed what happened it was too late. Your boyfriend was dull and hairy, a bush of a beard hanging from his face as he laughed at how high he was. The only sign that he was still himself was the glasses and hat.

"You gotta try it babe!" Your boyfriend, the newly minted stoner, said in a deeper voice. "What?"

Before you could even react he grabbed you with both hands and started making out with you forcefully. You felt the smoke he had saved in his lungs enter your body through the kiss. It was too late. Your world slowed down and became softer. You felt as hair exploded across your body, forcing its way through the fingers your boyfriend kept tight against your face. It was over. The man from before had already moved on leaving you and your boyfriend as two hairy, dumb, horny stoners in the middle of the woods... alone. "Fuck babe," your boyfriend said, pulling on your new long beard, "youre so hot." "You too." You couldn't help but get hard both at the sight of your new boyfriend and at the feeling of him playing with your new beard. "Why don't we light up and celebrate the holiday... if you know what I mean." "Oh!" Your boyfriend grabbed your hardening cock. "I do."

Hello everyone!! I know I have been gone, i have explained it but I wanted to share some of the things I got commissioned, this first piece was commissioned, Hope you all enjoy, there is a sequel as well!

I wasn’t always like this, a big, beefy, hunky, smelly, hairy, hot, sexy…. I wasn’t always this meathead okay. Fuck i’ve been getting so distracted lately, like my brain can’t focus, like my thoughts were going through molasses. Ever since I met HIM I haven’t been ME.

It all started last week, I was how I’m supposed to be your, normal average TWIG- no don’t interrupt me, lean nerd. My hair was chocolate brown, the sides cut short and the top long and wavy, resting on the side of my face. My skin was pale because I HATED leaving my dorm room, the outside sun and my allergies didn’t agree with me so it left me to my hobbies indoors, reading, writing and playing TTRPGS online with my friends LOSER, LAME, BORi- SHUT UP.

Sorry about that the voice in my head, the loud, horny, gay as fuck jock won’t leave me alone. 

As I was saying I was your typical nerdy Geology student. I was lean, maybe a lil paunchy because of the freshmen 15 and my lack of willpower to maintain my body but I was having the most fun and freedom of my life. I kept myself shaved smooth and my body so clean any girl could eat off it. Just like the room I lived in, more spotless then probably your favorite restaurant. The campus messed up with the living arrangements so I had a single dorm to myself, which meant I could keep myself, my space and my life tidy just the way I liked it. The RA was decent and I was even talking to this cute girl in my geology program, Anna. Life made sense and I didnt care what anyone else thought for once.

That is until BRAD moved in, Brad was this stereotypical dumb football Jock. Apparently the university was experiencing some room shortages (shocker the place that mismanaged rooms at the start of the semester would do it AGAIN) and since I had space they sent me an email to EXPECT another roommate in a week. They sent me some details like his name, his contact info but besides that I was going in blind.

Man do I wish I lost my sense of smell instead. When Brad opened the door I smelled him before I saw him. It was like a fog of filth rolled into my room. Hours of sweat and musk swept into the room, causing my eyes to water and my throat to choke. As he stepped in the lingering scent of sex and cum wafted off him. He smelled like if a football practice was in a porno and my worst nightmare was having sex.

His footsteps loud on the tile floor as he made his way in carrying two duffle bags of poorly packed dirty clothes. His arms tensed and flexed, his biceps bulging out like mountains, his shoulders wide and beautiful with a loose tank’s straps draped across them slightly covering the pillow pecs that rested underneath. His neck was thick and corded with muscles as facial hair rested against his adams apple slowly growing up into a beautiful beard that framed plump lips. His nose and cheek bones were strong and chiseled like a statue as his brow bone loomed over his eyes giving him this fuck boy/frat jock look that probably drove sorority girls wild.

 His shirt rode up  exposing abs that looked like the cobbled streets of rome, his hips were graced with cum gutters and a treasure trail that made your eyes look down at his 3 inch inseam shorts that left little to the imagination. My own straight eyes couldn't help but look at the monster bulge that was begging to be set free. His thighs stretched everything to the limit as his calves shaped like perfect diamonds carried him to the empty bed next to me.

“Yo, you're my new roomy now sick!” Brad said dropping his bags on the floor, the clothes immediately spilling out as the zipper wasn’t fully done. My jaw basically hit the floor as my ideal life was eviscerated in seconds as fear for what the next year would basically be. If only I had known just how AWESOME- no terrible it would actually be.

The musk was strong especially when, he heard no response and IMMEDIATELY went up to hug me, my stunned body and weak form stood no chance of escape or defense as he picked me up with ease, his sweaty masculine HOT- no, manly physique picked me up like I weighed nothing. My face buried in his pecs, his body hair tickling my nose as his cleavage suffocated me.

“Sorry, what did you say?” he asks, putting me down, my face covered in his sweat. I try to just shake it off, mentally I was thrown off as I struggled to come up with some sort of thought. I hadn’t said anything right?

“it’s..Its not important, the names Christopher, Brad right?” I say holding out my much smaller hand. This meathead immediately grabs it. “That's right Bro look at you catching on!” he says, not mockingly I think just as a statement. From his GORGEOUS- STOP IT ALREADY I'M TELLING THIS STORY IF I'M TRAPPED IN HERE- as I was saying from his face all i could see was dumb innocence as he immediately picked up his bags dropping more clothes onto the floor. This semester wouldn’t end I thought

“Hey Brad, I know you just got here but do you mind we talk about some ground rules for the dorm” I say, sitting on my bed watching him, each movement he makes a flex. 

“Yeah dude, as long as you're chill with me putting my shit away as we do.” he says nonchalantly, he empties out the contents of one bag completely, the smell of dirty socks and underwear filling the air, eyes starting to water.

“Yeah that's no problem..i..i actually wanted to start with talking about expectations and keeping the dorm clean is first.” I was hoping to just get this out of the way, it would be less awkward, and he’d know where I’d stand.

“Oh Bro I totally get it!” he says literally making a mess by shoving some of his pants balled up into his dresser, his bed already unmade.

“Well I just want to make sure we have a standard, the floor stays clean, beds made and its easy for me to focus on my studies.” I say trying to make sure he understands me. His muscles were insane as he put clothes away, each movement felt like a flex, like he was showing off for me but he couldn’t be. My eyes didn't want to leave his muscular back but as he turned to face me, his perfectly framed lips curled in a smile.

“I gotchu BRO no need to worry.” The way he says bro bouncing around in my head. Like there was more emphasis and weight to it. Its like the back of my head is tingling, a warm energy filling me to my core as I listen, before shaking my head. Brad was holding a crumpled up thing of underwear in his hand, the smell obnoxious but what really took me out was the way his arms were at his sides, almost crossed across his torso, making the pillowey pecs rest and jut out. It made me feel insecure looking at this adonis, his body built to make women’s mouth water theres no way I could bring a girl back here.

“Do you like games Bro?” He asks attention going back to his stuff.

“Yeah I mean I like Dungeons and Dragons, Magic The gathering, Yu-gi-oh is pretty fun..” He interrupts me.

“Nah i mean like video games, fifa, COD, Rivals, league?” He asks me, moving over to my bed sitting down at the head of it. Folding something.

“I, i don’t really play many I guess.” I say rubbing the back of my head, he was probably covering my bed in his smell.

“What bro really?! That's crazy, well I know what we're doing as soon as my pc gets here bro!” he says slamming his hands down on my bed, unbeknownst to me sliding a dirty jockstrap underneath my pillow. His face filled with excitement and joy, god I’d have to make sure he didn’t get in the way of me and Anna.

“Oh..uh okay good yeah! I’m down for that. Just uh one other thing about the dorm.” I say looking down, my head was starting to feel fogged up.

“Yeah bro? What is it?” He says leaning forward making eye contact with me.

“To make sure theres no big distractions are you good with not bringing any girls over, my coursework is super heavy and im fine with notice I just want to make sure that-”

“Woah Chris, breathe, you ain’t gotta worry about me bringing any chicks over!” Listening to him I took a big inhale, my vision getting hazy as I nod my head, jaw going slack. I didn’t even care that he called me Chris, I hated when people called me Chris. I can’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Okay, that was one problem I wouldn't have to worry about. I didn’t question why, my head fully fogged up, mind running slow, I just felt like I could trust him.

“Great bro.. I mean Brad, I’ll let you finish up*yawn* I’m gonna sleep.” I say motioning him to get up. He raises off the bed as I get settled, not changing into my pajamas like I always do. My limbs feel heavy, mind so tired and my shirt is sticking to me as I see my bro Brad stand in front of me. Ass right in my face and all I can think is damn he’s ho-

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That morning was the worst I had had in a long time, my head hurt, I had missed my alarm. This meant I couldn’t shower and the room was a mess, clothes were still on the floor and that adonis of a man was fast asleep. I hadn't even changed, I was filthy and smelt like a locker room as I raced to my lecture, my feet moving faster than I was used to, I assumed it was the adrenaline, not realizing with each slap of my shoes bottom my legs stretch slightly. Foot getting meatier, longer, wider with each step, pushing it to its limits. I barely made it to my lecture before the doors were permanently closed. The eyes of my peers on me.

Everything my professor said was like water off a duck's back. I couldn’t take anything in. Every time I thought I was getting a grip on something, taking a deep breath, its like a fog rolled through my mind, setting me back to square one. I still smelled like Brad from last night. The sweat, musk and grime sticking to me like glue, god I wish my lecture would do that. Before class was even over I could tell my classmates had moved away from me, recoiling from the scent, even Anna seemed to turn her nose up at the scent.

I had tried to answer a question at some point, our professor opening up the floor to us in discussion. Basic geology fundamental question about how the different rock formation types interact within environments exposed to new catalysts or something. But I fumbled my words, my mouth feeling dry, voice cracking like I was going through puberty. It made me want to shrink in on myself, adjusting in my seat as NOTHING felt comfortable.

Even my clothes felt off, laying on my skin weird, I kept pulling my shirt and adjusting my pants. I was only saved when the class was dismissed, Anna hanging back to walk with me, her face looked sick.

“Christopher are you…are you okay?” She asks, her beautiful face was crested with worry as she looked me up and down. I was the most disheveled I’d ever been.

“No, no..not really you know that new roommate I was getting?” I ask her, trying to be vulnerable, when did Anna get so much shorter. I can’t help but think that as I looked her up and down it's like she was at my chin now instead of my forehead. I wanted to question it but as soon as my mouth open a burp came out of nowhere. I can tell Anna wants to help me but it was just so gross. 

“y..ye..Yeah Brad right, you said on paper the guy was a total douche and you were like dreading it?” She asks waving her hand in her face, like she was wafting off some terrible smell. For some reason that motion alone had given me the ick, sure I didn’t smell great but that was just being a man. Wait where had that thought come from.

“Yeah, well he was like that as soon as he walked in the door, full muscle headed jock carrying his dirty laundry right to our floor.” I say waving my arms, raising them and exposing my now slightly hairy pit. That seemed to make Anna’s face worse, I could see her hold her nose, whatever attracted me to her fighting to hold onto the idea she was perfect. Because if she was perfect she’d admire this smell, she’d realize all the hard work that made that smell, how the grind never stops for them gains. What the fuck am i thinking I don’t work out, thi..this is from Brad.

“God that sounds awful, is that why you were late this morning?” She asks, getting further away. God she was so annoying 

“Yeah, I guess that was him too.” I say getting uninterested in her, why was I even talking about my bro- I mean Brad with her.

“Well If he is causing issues you can always bring it up to student housing, I'm sure they’ll at least hear you out!” She says trying to sound hopeful for me, like if brad went away I would snap right back, I took a deep breath. I DIDNT WANT THAT. I couldn’t tell why I thought that, I did want him gone.

“Thanks Anna, I gotta go and try to clean up, i’ll talk with you later.” She nods, waving off, I still have to give her credit though. She might be annoying but damn was she hot. Maybe I didn’t want a relationship anymore but I wouldn't mind bangin- Fuck what's gotten into me.

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Getting to the dorm felt worse then sitting in that lecture. My clothes felt tighter, every step felt faster, and sweat was dripping off my face and running down my neck. I tried wiping it, feeling stubble graze my hand as I did. 5’ o clock shadow but I don’t- fuck the smell was so strong. 

I got to the dorm fast, not saying hi to anyone I needed to get clean, my shirt stuck to my broader chest, my sleeves were stuck halfway down my forearms and my pants were cutting the circulation off at my thighs. When I opened the door I expected the mess, hell i expected the dumb jock on the bed. Just not a a GORGEOUS, LITHE HAIRLESS TWINK, bouncing up and down on his cock. Riding him like his life depended on it. His face buried into Brads chest as he stifled his own moans.

I wanted to say something, this, this was disgusting. The way that fucking twink arched his back as his hips gyrated. The way his ass bounced when Brad would thrust up to meet them. His whining grew stronger as Brad brought his meaty hands to hold the twinks face telling him he wanted to hear it. To hear how good he was making him feel. The twink threw his head back, eyes rolling, his curly brown hair bouncing with each thrust. This guy was losing his mind, his tongue hanging out as he groped Brad's Chest like they were handle bars to hold onto, their sweat mixing together, both men COVERED in it. His moans were insane as his eyes glazed over from pleasure, mouth opening wide as he begged for more. Brads face got hit with creamy fluid as the twink came his brains out.

God the smell was intoxicating I couldn’t help but breathe it in even if I felt like I wanted to vomit. Brad Manhandled him, switching their position till the twink was on his back, brads ass fully exposed to me. Covered in hairs, his meaty cheeks clapping with each thrust. He flexed so hard, pulling up both arms into a double bicep pose telling this fucked stupid man to worship him. The scent of sex, men and just everything washed over me, before I knew it my own vision was fogging up. 

The last thing I saw before I hit the ground was Brad Cumming inside his boytoy, leaving both parties satisfied.

________

My dreams were filled with Brad Stroking a massive cock, at least ten inches long. His underwear, a bright red jockstrap down to his knees as he moved his hands up and down his Pre soaked cock. I felt my heart race as he got quicker, his words  deep and loud bouncing around my head. You like this slut, you want it, give in worship a real man. Crawl over on your knees and burry your head into his crotch. Real men worship cocks. Real men submit to musk, real men deserve pleasure and muscle. BE A REAL MAN!

________

When I woke up I was still on the floor, Brad was lounging in just his red jockstrap like nothing had happened. The room was hotter then hell and we were both sweating up a storm. I felt my clothes fully stick to my skin, tight and unwelcoming to any sudden movements. Its like the fog that rolled in last night had fully settled, my brain conflicted confused and my TINY four incher was hard as a rock. Brad was scrolling through his phone when I managed to get onto my feet “Sup Bro sorry you walked in on that” he said nodding his head like I hadn’t just seen him get some primo bussy..wha..like the stud he was.

“Whats sup dude is that I literally just walked in to see you fucking some twink when I told you….” I'm immediately interrupted by him dropping his phone and staring at me. God the way that the red jockstrap just hugged his bulge was insane, my eyes didn’t want to leave it. The thought that that was just inside a guy made me want to hurl but my dream just then made my heart race faster then any chick ever had. My mouth watering, my jaw just a little slack.

“God Chris are you going to make it weird? You literally just said no chicks.” Brad says, in such a dismissive, douchebag way. Such a MANLY WAY. He’s such a real man he deserves pleasure. I almost lean into his voice, almost fall further under his spell, but there it was again. CHRIS, god I hate when people called me that, i shook my head.

“Bro don’t call me that, I hate when people call me Chris, it's Christopher and second..” he raises his arms behind his head exposing his armpits, His face taking on an amused grin. It's distracting but…but I need to say it Bro. “ Second You can’t be fuckin dudes in here either.”

“Fine Chris, i'll text you when i bring em over so you don’t barge in” He says almost conceding but even just the idea of some twink riding his cock makes me nauseous BRO. And he did it again, he called me Chris.

“Nah bro, you can’t be doin any of that gay shit in here” I say, venom leaking out of my voice. My friends had told me in the past that this was one of my biggest flaws. My homophobic beliefs, I always laughed it off, said I was always just hammin’ it up but really I meant it. I couldn’t stand fa- gay people.

“What did you just say to me Chris?!” he gets fully up and in my face, his body almost pressed against mine trying to get me to back down. He over-emphasizes my nam- I mean my nickname for some reason, only my friends called me that. Which he wasn’t, he was just going to keep calling me it, it was more important to tell my Bro the law of this dorm room then tell him off. 

“You heard me, I don't want you shoving any of this gay shit in my face anymore!” I say standing tall. Yesterday I could have swore he lumbered over me, his hulking figure to my short self. Where before I was barely eye level with his chest I was up to his chin now, almost able to lay one on those kissable lips. I should have been nervous or questioned how I went from 5’6 to 5’10 but all I could feel was the fog and a heightened level of testosterone fueling my aggression.

“Take it back Chris, take it back right now!” For a second I could have sworn I saw bros eyes light up green, like some flicker of ancient eldritch power. But I was too caught up in his SEXY pheromones and musk to care. He had crossed to many lines in one day.

“No i won’t take it back you fuckin meat headed muscle queer freak. You have been nothing but disrespectful since you got here  and now you're rubbing your sexuality in my face. I cant wait to fucking contact our GA and get you out of here!” I rant and ramble, finally speaking my mind. My mouth forming the cockiest, angriest smirk it's ever done as I feel pure relief.

Brad doesn’t immediately say anything, the room somehow grows darker, my spine feels not a chill but pure heat. Like a fire was set straight down my back. My clothes, the t-shirt and jeans I wore wet from sweat and clinging to my bigger body for dear life begin to stretch, the sound of fabric straining as Brad lets out a dull cold hearted laugh, his eyes dark.

“Well CHRIS, how bout I shove something in your face for real!” His voice brays as he brings his arm up before clamping it down on my face. His armpit acting like a black hole, my face landing perfectly underneath his musk immediately suffocating me in his pure man scent before everything WHITED OUT. I could no longer think ahead, hell I could no longer think. Bro’s scent was everything, and his godly sweat was marking me, seeping into my face and right to my brain. The dream flashing through my mind, Bros beautiful masculine body, his glorious cock and OH GOD THE WAY HE WAS FUCKING DESTROYING THAT TWINk. My mind and mouth both watering as the changes seeped into me. I felt myself nuzzle into Bro’s pits, sniffing, licking and worshipping them, the feel of his sweat and hair on my face making me feel so good. Moaning against the most divine scent I could imagine

The Musk wafted around me and traveled down my body, like a thick miasma of magic it removed my clothes turning the fabric into fog feeding brad, my lanky, lithe body of full display cramped against a MUSCLE GOD. BEGGING for his attention and admiration as I should. I felt the Sweat and GRIME seep deeper into my pores, my brow bone extending further giving me a more masculine look, my nose growing longer and wider giving me stronger features. My hair absorbing his sweat getting greased back tilla shell of a backwards cap magically appeared sealing my fate before I even knew it. 

It felt so right being underneath BRO and all I had to do was lis- WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON.

Brad was steady, keeping his heavy arm clamped down on my head. All these stray thoughts running rampant, the urge, no, need to LISTEN to him beating in my head as I realize all the weird thoughts, and changes that have happened to me in the last twenty four hours. The height, sweat, clothes being tighter, smelling worse and hating Anna, everything I pushed to the side and dismissed were him, as he revealed to me the truth.

“I tried so hard Bro, I wanted a real friend and I could tell you needed that too BRO, but you had to ruin it. I was too nice calling you CHRIS bro. Letting the change be simple and easy for you without takin too much. I can’t let some homophobic piece of shit have this gift, nah you can’t be CHRIS, YOU’RE OBVIOUSLY TOPHER!” His voice angry, sad and manic all at one as his other hand moves to the back of my head pushing me deeper into his MUSK. I panic trying to pull back but BRO is so much STRONGER AND HOTTER THAN ME, moan and groan against his pit inevitably still WORSHIPPING IT as I feel the words he emphasizes PULSE through me.

His hand moves down my neck, sending a shock through my system, my moans and groans come out strangled, and deeper as I feel that same PULSE wrap around my neck, this feeling of it widening as my adam apple grows bigger pushing against my vocal chords forever deepening my voice. My jaw feels stronger as it's chiseled away to match the neck I’m given. “That’s it TOPHER, Just give in to me, you're such a GOOD BOY TOPHER. You're gonna be my BRO and we’re gonna have so much fun TOPHER!” He says each use of BRO, TOPHER, and GOODBOY raking against my mind, scraping away parts of me and fueling this pulsing warmth inside of me. He releases me from his pit, both hands resting against my shoulders and it feels like the weight of my own existence has been put right on top of me. I feel my skin sizzle as it tans starting at my neck, and then my shoulders broaden becoming more masculine in size and better for holding muscles on my frame. It sends this thril of eroticism, of things to come as he teasingly starts moving them lower down my back.

I look at him,eyes pleading as I search for the words. “Please Bro, st..sto..stop whatever this is I promise Im sorry, please I’m….im not CHRISTOPHER- I mean i’m not Topher please. I’m not” My name jumps out of my mouth, my lips plumping as it does leaving me forever, erasing itself from my mind and clearing a better path for my BRO. 

“You're not what TOPHER? What did you say I was? A MEATHEADED MUSCLE QUEER FREAK?! I think that's EXACTLY WHO TOPHER IS!!” He rushes his hands to my chest and I feel it, that same feeling from being trapped in his pit. My vision goes white and I let out this howling moan. Arching my back as my eyes roll back, his hands diving deeper than they should, flesh, muscle and the perfect amount of fat. It was heaven, it was orgasmic but it was also EDGING. My cock wanted to burst but something was stopping me as I tried to hump BRO. I couldn't stop myself. It felt like Brad was frying my brain through pleasure as he played with and sculpted these new muscle tits. Tweaking my nipples, growing them and making them more sensitive.

“Please Brad, please I just lemme cu-” Brad stops and grabs the jockstrap from underneath my pillow. “Shut the fuck up don’t you get tired of your voice. Just listen like the DUMBASS you are TOPHER!” He shoves the dirty smelly jockstrap into my mouth as he says it. The word dumbass ringing in my head as the backwards cap squeezes it in tandem with the pulses now shrinking my brain, the excess thoughts and ideas flowing down to my balls as BRAD resumes feeling me up and sculpting me. My back slowly becomes this tan corded muscle masterpiece as his magic spreads.

He moves to my arms this time making me flex them in a douchey  HOT Double bicep pose.  Each grave of his fingers, each press of his palm I feel this heat build in my body, as my bones are strengthened, my muscles BULGING and skin glowing in a beautiful tan. Till his hands travel inwards and dig into my pit, rubbing in a new stench MUSK that would be mine. Forever linking me to him and INFLUENCING all my decisions.

It Took a second for the foul DELICIOUS taste of the jock to settle in my mouth. I had foolishly tried to push it out with my tongue but each lick, each graze gave me a new flavor of man to savor. Each gulp of his sweat, precum, and cum stains drove my mind mad as I started to crave that taste. I couldn’t stop myself from internally begging for more as I begged for it to stop.

He moves his hands down my torso, each glance against my skin tightens my core, as he slides them down it leaves behind a cobblestone road of abs. Popping up like slabs of perfection All the while whispering my name in my ear over and over again. Topher, Topher, Topher, Topher, god I could listen to him whisper my name in my ear any day. He says it with so much lust and love I want to crea- ITS HAPPENING AGAIN, him saying my name helps him change me.

His hands make a clear v line down before releasing and taking a look at me. “Damn I gave you some Sexy Cum Gutters Topher.” he says walking around me, investigating his work as I helplessly pose for him losing my balance. “But don’t want you looking like a Dorito do we, gotta finish up Babe” he says lovingly teasing my inner thigh. Making them explode rapidly before he moves behind me and slaps me right on the ass. It happens again. That earth shattering feeling as my cheeks Jiggle before he gropes them. My eyes are rolling again as I helplessly beg for him to let me cum. My lips opened wide in shock as he does it again, spanking me. It happens again and again, HARD SPANKS to sensual groping as he creates a perfectly fuckable DUMPTRUCK of an ass that everyone would stare at.

Each time I'm begging to cum as he laughs, egging me on. “God your eyes are crossed BRO, look how the mighty have fallen, just a bit more!” he says massaging my cheeks one last time before his fingers slip between the crack and teases my hole, sending a massive pulse through me that makes my knees buckle. It shouldn’t even budge, no less open easy but the magic coating both of us now lets him tamper, and tease around my hoile before a finger slips in. im gasping for breaths as memories of girls I dated, crushes I had, feelings I bottled up are all erased. Whiting out again, and again as new pleasure centers are added to me.

A new need is demanded by my body, as one of Brad’s Massive, Gorgeous, Amazing hand makes me crave my hole being played with, as the other traces my thighs making them thunder thighs in seconds. His fingers tease and toy with me like I was just an instrument and he was a trained professional. My whimpering increases as he gets a second finger in while his other hand matches that tempo and carves my calves into perfect diamonds and he manages to get a third final finger into my CAVERNOUS, STARVING HOLE as his hand touches my  feet. They explode becoming size 14 triple e wides.

“Almost there Bro any last words” He says destroying my world by removing his fingers. He pulls the jock out of my whining mouth, the need is so strong. My pathetic Dicklet is leaking so much precum, my mind is fried and I miss his fingers and the taste of his Dirty Jock.

“Please stop thi- BRO DONT STOP THIS, PLEASE I NEED…NEED..NEED to Cum Please..” he interupts my conflicted begging, his hand wrapping around my dick with ease swallowing it whole. He shushes me and tells me it's almost over as he easily glides his hand along my precum covered cock. The first stroke up feels like I’m getting harder. My cock raging and growing, as he slides it down it only continues the feeling. It goes from four to five in that brief moment as he gets to the root. He’s whispering in my ear how he likes his boys hairy, fur crops up around my chest, fills in my pits and covers my crotch. 

His hand moves up again six inches. Down now my balls are sloshing with cum. Up were at seven he’s telling me how pretty I am, how cute I’ll look begging for his loads. Down I’m telling him he’s the hottest man in the world because it's true. Up now were at eight, no nine, I can't count all I feel is him slamming his hand all the way down again and nothing else matters. Its just Up, and down, Up and Down, UP, DOWN, UP ANd Down and now were at twelve inches and he tells me to say please and all i can do is fuck his hand over and over again pleading and begging  as his other hand snaps and

Everything 

Goes

White

Load after load shooting out. Every Memory, Every straight thought, higher thought or idea of who Christopher was unloading out of his balls as Topher takes over moaning and fucking his boyfriend Brad’s hand. No need to replace those memories, after all with Topher being a meatheaded dumb muscle queer freak he didn’t have the brain power to really remember that.

It was five loads before he was done and just stared at Brad who smiled and asked the him the only question he COULD answer now “Want to serve my Cock now Babe?”

“YES PLEASE!”

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Allen was anxious. The last few months had been tough, his old career falling through, trouble finding jobs, people turning him away left and right. He’d decided to turn to long distance trucking as a last-ditch effort to still make something of his life, but it required a hefty investment. Namely, the massive semi-truck he was about to purchase off a trucking veteran he’d met online. The man was claiming to give him a great deal, even though it was still the majority of the cash he had left. 

The sun beat down on Allen as he stood in their agreed on meeting spot, a desolate parking lot at the edge of town. Sweat dripped down his neck as he waited, impatient but with no other options. Finally, after what felt like ages, he felt the pavement rumble as a truck tractor turned into the lot, belching black smoke out the top. It pulled up next to him, absolutely dwarfing Allen next to the bright red paint job, only slightly tarnished. The door flew open and the man he’d only spoken to before online climbed down to the ground. He was a hulking man, a full head taller than Allen and at least 250 pounds, though who knows with how much muscle he appeared to be packing. He had on dirty jeans and a stained wife beater, exposing the forest of hair on his sweat-soaked chest, as well as his shoulders that had their own impressive coat. The man had a thick goatee and wore sunglasses under his trucker hat, hiding the fact that he was sizing up Allen.

“So, Allen, is it? Good to meet ya,” the man stuck out his hand. Allen reached out to shake it, his own hand swallowed up by the size of the trucker’s. “I know she looks a little dinged up but she’s served me well, she’ll get any job done if ya take care of her right.” The man laughed, his gruff voice carrying across the empty lot as he turned to face the tractor.

Allen scrambled to pull out his wallet. “Here’s, uh, what we agreed on,” he said while handing the wad of cash over.

“Ah, good. You know, for what this girl’ll do to ya I should be chargin’ double. Consider it a gesture from one generation to the next.” The man laughed at himself again.

“For what she’ll do to me? Shouldn’t it be what she’ll do for me?” Allen puzzled in his head, before being brought back to the present by a hearty slap on his back.

“Good luck out there Allen,” the man said before dropping the keys into Allen’s hand. He turned and started walking back towards town, his thick shoulder hair glowing in the afternoon sun. 

About two weeks later, Allen was getting ready to take off on his first job. It was a long one to start off, going from Houston all the way up to Boise, and would take the whole week to do. He’d adjusted the cab to remind him a little less of the man he’d bought it from, though despite his best efforts there was a lingering stench of sweat. He’d also been finding that man’s shed body hairs every so often as he cleaned or rearranged things as an ever present reminder. Regardless, this was his life now and it was go time. Allen made sure the trailer was attached properly, threw in the destination to his gps, and released the brakes. The truck jolted as it came to life, smoke billowing from the exhaust as he rolled out of the warehouse lot, making his way towards the interstate. 

He’d gone through enough training to get his CDL, but Allen was still apprehensive driving this huge truck alongside thousands of other cars. His hands were white-knuckled gripping the wheel as he cruised up I-45. Some of the other truckers on the road were encouraging over the radio as they found out he was new, but most just chatted between themselves. Allen cranked the AC after noticing that the entire back of his shirt was soaked. Stress sweat, he thought to himself, Or maybe just the Texas sun. 

The first day, thankfully, was uneventful. His body released hours of pent up tension as he pulled into a rest stop in Amarillo, and after eating a quick dinner he was out like a rock. The space to sleep in his cab was actually fairly roomy, but Allen just could not find a comfortable position. He tossed and turned for hours, waking up drenched in sweat. He stripped off his soaked shirt before trying one more time to rest on the now damp bed. His eyes closed, the only thing his mind drifted to was the burly man whose truck he now slept in. His lingering scent intoxicating, Allen’s mind remembered vividly his thickly stubbled jaw, the dark swirls of hair on his chest, even the scent of stale B.O. mixed with deodorant that poured out of the cabin when he’d arrived. His words echoed in the dream, “for what this girl’ll do to ya.”

The alarm blared sharply at seven on the dot. Allen jolted straight up, banging his head on the low ceiling above. “Damn,” he cursed, remembering that ceiling being higher up when he went to bed. He rolled out of bed, rubbing the bump on his head, not noticing the pool of sweat he’d left behind. The rest of the morning was a blur, and before he knew it he was pulling back onto the highway, feeling the road beneath the wheels fly by. He noticed about an hour into the drive that he needed to adjust the mirrors. Odd, since he’d checked them the day before, but he didn’t think much of it. What he did notice is that he felt less stressed. He was gripping the wheel less tightly, he sat a little more relaxed, and he was more comfortable maneuvering the truck around. Not an expert, but a little better than it had been. 

He paused midday for a quick lunch before continuing on, the endless plains and farms rolling by seemingly forever. Between the dull scenery and the afternoon sun starting to blaze into the cabin, Allen’s eyes began to glaze over as minutes stretched into hours of monotony. He saw the odometer climb ten, fifty, a hundred miles. As the miles continued to pass, he felt a twinge of pain in his hand. Startled, he adjusted his grip and thought nothing more of it. Moments later, it hit again. Allen looked down at his hands, eyes widening as he saw them start to shift, to grow larger. His knuckles grew larger and spread apart as his hands swelled, fingers growing longer and calloused, his grip tightening with a grunt slipping out of his mouth. Unknowingly, his cock twitched as he watched a thick black hair push out of the back of his hand. Another dark hair followed it, with more soon after. They spread quickly, with hairs popping up across the backs of his hands, climbing up his fingers, and carpeting his wrists as they too grew in size. The dark shadow slowly crept up his forearms, his light dusting of hair being swallowed up by the growing forest of darker, denser, thicker hairs.

Allen’s breath quickened as he came to his senses. What the hell was happening? He must’ve been seeing things after staring at the road for so long, he thought to himself, rubbing his eyes to try and clear them. But in doing that he could feel the thick hairs on his hand rub against his face, erasing any doubt. Stress was rising; what was he supposed to do? He was barreling down the highway in the middle of nowhere, with a deadline hanging over his head to boot. Those thoughts were cut short when the itch he’d been feeling in his hands returned on his face. Allen had never been able to grow more than some patchy scruff, barely more than peach fuzz, but as he looked in the rear view mirror he could see his jaw darken a shade. His upper lip bristled as stubble pushed out, growing slowly and filling out towards the edge of his lips. Dense hair blossomed around his chin, completing his own goatee before stretching outwards, claiming his jaw under the tight beard that was forming. Though the hair grew dense as it filled in, it stayed short, a thick stubble holding tight to his face.

Allen’s eyes darted between the mirror and the road, speechless at what he could see of his own reflection. Just finish the drive and then you can figure something out, he told himself. As he continued down the road he could occasionally feel the prickles of new hair still popping up on his arms and face, the rate of spread having slowed down but not stopped entirely. Mile after mile, he could tell that the stubble was beginning to creep down his neck. Mile after mile, the bristling of new hairs never quite ceased. The sun began to creep lower in the sky, and after too long of being left with his own thoughts given the situation, the radio crackled to life.

“Breaker, breaker. Got a hell of a wreck northbound, about five miles out. Down to one lane, be careful out there.” The voice cautioned.

“Copy that, thanks for the heads up,” Allen responded, his voice sounding lower than he was used to. Caught off guard by his own words, the familiar sensation returned once again. Beneath his shirt, wispy hairs had started to pop out from around his nipples, at first thin and delicate, but quickly growing darker and thicker. The center of his chest felt it next, with dark hairs sprouting in the slight divot between his unremarkable pecs. The hair stayed close to his skin as it spread, swirling out along the surface of his chest. The patch growing from the center of his chest blended with those emanating from his nipples, forming a full coat that continued to claim more territory. It slowly spread outwards, climbing up towards his collarbone and inching south from his chest as Allen finished up the drive for the day. He pulled off into the rest stop for the night, feeling the prickling from beneath his sweaty t-shirt as hairs started to get caught on the fabric. 

Allen parked the truck and flung open the door, racing to the rest stop bathroom. He stood in front of the dirty mirror, flushed and out of breath, staring at a face that he could only partially recognize as his own. In a panic he pulled off his shirt, exposing his now furry chest to the dim lighting. He was in disbelief. How could something like this even happen? He ran a hand through the hair covering his chest, feeling the wiry strands between his fingers. It felt unnatural, but at the same time it felt good. Really good. Allen’s cock chubbed up slightly in his pants as he continued to rub his hand in circles on his chest. He was caught up in feeling himself when the door to the restroom flew open, another burly trucker walking in. Allen froze. What would this guy think of him standing there, half naked, having some sort of semi-masturbatory moment? The trucker looked up and down at him, eyes lingering for just a moment on his chest, before snorting.

“Give it a few days kid,” he said with a chuckle before turning around and leaving the room. Allen quickly put his shirt back on and returned to his truck for the night; he didn’t need any more incidents like that. But as he sat there in his cab, slowly eating his dinner, the man’s words wouldn’t leave him. In fact, they reminded Allen vaguely of the original trucker he’d bought his rig from. An idea started to form… was the truck doing this to him?

Allen’s alarm blared the next morning, sending him jolting upright directly into the ceiling again. This time he was sure it was lower than yesterday, as he rubbed his head again. Whilst getting ready he couldn’t stop mulling over the possibility that this truck was changing him, turning him into some hairy, masculine trucker. It scared him, but deep down, some part of him was excited, wanted more. He looked in the mirror again but didn’t see anything different from the night before, the same short stubble and chest hair was still there. 

After getting washed up, Allen climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. The truck roared to life, his new body hair standing on end as chills echoed through his body. He took one hand off the wheel and stuffed it under his shirt, feeling the hair puffed up underneath, before slowly taking off onto the road. Within minutes he was cruising comfortably, finally feeling like he knew what he was doing. The miles flew by, fields and plains turning to foothills and then to mountains as he crossed into the Rockies. With more interesting scenery, Allen didn’t even notice the itch appearing in his groin, nor his instinctual response to scratch at it. It started as just the occasional pulling at his waistband, but before long he was one hand on the wheel and one hand fully in his underwear.

Allen’s cock slowly inflated as he probed around down there with his hand, feeling his clean shaven skin become prickly as long dormant hairs reemerged. Soft strands inched out around the base of his cock, slowly spreading outwards with each mile he traveled. Like a timelapse, the hairs pushed out, growing darker, thicker, expanding across his groin. They curled together as they grew longer and longer, tangling into a real man’s bush for the first time in his life. Allen barely registered as his fingers went from scratching over bristly stubble to combing through a dense jungle, pulling at the thick curls as they thickened. Mile after mile, they kept growing, stretching upwards above his waistband and out onto his thighs, his delicate treasure trail growing darker and widening. 

His cock continued to grow in step, at first just tenting his underwear but now fully stretching it out, pushing nine inches and counting. His shaft grew thicker as small hairs began to climb up its girth, threatening to hide its size further as they spiraled out into the greater mass of hair. A deep groan finally escaped Allen’s lips as in an instant his balls tripled in size, swelling to a massive degree and filling his underwear as his sack stretched to compensate. The thick carpet of hair surged down and over, burying them beneath an impenetrable layer of curls. His brain clouded as his new massive testicles flooded his body with more testosterone than he’d ever had in his life, barely managing to keep his hand on the wheel as his cock pushed out another inch, beginning to leak precum in a dribble that would never cease. His bush continued to push out, hairs growing longer every second as it completely filled out the triangle of his groin with a sea of dark fur.

The rush of hormones quickly took effect on the rest of Allen’s body. His pits tingled as soft shoots of hair trickled out of his bare skin. The soft strands quickly grew longer, thicker, and more lush, as each second more pushed out to join them. Follicles, awoken by the surge of testosterone, pushed out hair after hair, curling and tangling together in the increasingly sweaty space. Allen’s body leaked sweat, fertilizing the growing jungle beneath his arms as sweat-soaked hairs spread like wildfire, claiming more and more of his bare skin. Every tick of the odometer caused his pits to grow more wild, hair billowing outwards. The deepest recesses of his pits were shrouded now by the thickest growth, an intoxicating mass of sweaty, musky fur. The front lines continued to push outwards, with curly hairs exploring up and around his arm, blending into his chest hair to create a seamless pelt from pubes to pits. Allen finally pulled his hand out of his crotch, only to shove it directly in his right pit, feeling the still growing tuft of hair. His cock lurched yet again as he teased the thick strands apart with his fingers, feeling how coarse and wiry each hair was. The cab was beginning to smell, as more and more sweat and stink leaked out of his ripening pits, but Allen hardly noticed at all, eyes glazed over yet glued to the road.

Before he knew it, the sun had started to set and Allen needed to pull off for the night. His highway hypnosis wore off, and he realized he barely recalled any of the drive that day, but he’d made good time. The sun dipped below the horizon when he found a rest stop, pulling the truck into a spot and turning it off with a sigh of relief; it was good to be done for the day. Allen entered the restroom to get cleaned up for the night, head to a urinal, and unzipped his now tight jeans. His eyes went wide as a thick swath of fur erupted from his fly, his cock twice the size it’d been and still leaking precum. He should’ve panicked, his brain wanted to, but the words those other truckers had said to him returned to his mind once again. He was convinced now; this truck was turning him into a hairy, masculine trucker. And if his cock was any evidence, he thought that was kinda hot. Really hot, in fact. 

Reason fell to the wayside as he stood there in the urinal, grabbing his erect cock and stroking it, precum flying all over. He was quickly lost in the pleasure, feeling the thick bush at the base of his cock every time he pumped it, Allen imagined what he was becoming, who he would be at the end of this. The images of the first trucker with his thickly furred chest and hair coated shoulders returned to his mind, and that was it. Allen let out a deep moan as his cock erupted, thick ropes of cum coating the wall as his massive, low hanging balls emptied for the first time. He kept shooting for longer than he’d ever had in the past, the flow of cum slowing but persisting until he was left panting, the last ropes getting caught in his own fur. His body shuddered, waves of pleasure shooting through him as his climax subsided.

With sense returning to his head, Allen looked at what he’d done and panicked. If someone walked in now it’d be over for him. He stuffed his still dripping cock back into his pants and fled the scene back to his cab, slamming the door closed and throwing himself onto his bed. His mind was racing, conflicting thoughts at war in his head as he felt his own body becoming the battleground. Did he really want to become this hairy beast of a man? Did he really have a choice in the matter? Allen laid there on the mattress, unable to truly decide, until the exhaustion caught up with him. His eyes slowly closed, and he passed out with his clothes still on, precum stain growing on his jeans.

Allen jolted upright once again as his alarm went off the next morning. He still felt exhausted; a rough night of sleep plagued with images of those other truckers cursing him with their traits had left him in rough shape that morning. He didn’t even bother taking his time to get ready that morning, he was just ready to be done with this job and move on. Instead he threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top and hopped in the driver's seat, gunning the truck out of the lot as the sun peeked out over the mountains. Desperately trying to put the thoughts of the night before out of his mind, he cranked the music as the final day of his trip began. The odometer of his rig ticked up mile by mile as he grew closer finally to his destination, but the truck wasn’t done with Allen quite yet.

As his foot pressed down on the gas pedal, it cracked and shifted, growing wider as his toes shifted farther apart, pressing against his work boots. His other foot joined in as they stretched longer, pushing up sizes as his boots strained from the new mass. Another mile ticked by as dark, thick hairs pushed out of his toes, slowly creeping out from the skin. Another mile. The hairs crept upwards from his toes, dark strands popping out of the top of his foot like weeds, slowly coating his foot beneath a thick rug. Another mile. The hair continued its march, curling up and around his ankles, thick strands tangling into his sock fibers as they sprouted out of his skin. Another mile. The first black strand popped out from the top of his sock. Another mile. A dozen more thick strands followed suit, and moments later a tidal wave of fur crawled up Allen’s calves. The hairs pushed out longer and longer, growing thick and wiry as they coated his shins, followed by his knees. Another mile. Allen’s thighs itched up a storm as they blossomed into a dense expanse of dark wavy hairs, finally connecting up to the monstrous bush exploding out of his underwear. His legs tingled as the pelt solidified, thickening into one seamless stream of hair from his toes to his crotch, with the hairs constantly pushing out further, growing longer and longer each passing mile.

Allen felt the itching from down below and peered down at his exposed legs, catching fleeting glimpses of the hair taking root as he continued his drive. His cock grew harder and harder each time, and his mind, exasperated, began to cave. Maybe it was okay that he was changing like this. Maybe it was for the best; he already felt more confident driving the truck. And the new hair? He was kinda into it.

He scratched unknowingly at his stubble as the subtle itch spread throughout his body once more. The short hairs coating his face slowly started to push out again. His light stubble quickly turned to a short beard as hairs grew longer and thicker. Skin vanished as the hairs grew out, new follicles filled in between old ones, pumping out hair after hair. Allen continued to scratch at his itchy jaw, fingers slowly running through more and more beard as it pushed out from his face. The hairs started to trickle downwards, poking out across his neck. Stubble spread in a wave, climbing higher on his cheeks and down over his Adam’s apple, threatening to connect with his chest hair just below. It only took a few more miles for that to become reality, as the growth surged into his existing pelt. His chest hair, newly invigorated, bristled to life as the hairs swirled more densely than ever before. The hairs grew wiry, pushing away from the skin of his chest and puffing outwards as they filled in thicker and thicker. The curls hid away any bare skin as they tangled together, his pecs completely coated in fur. What was once the frontiers of this rug began to push out, new wisps popping up across his collarbone and soon enough up and onto his shoulders before darkening and thickening up like the rest. Allen groaned as he felt the hairs pushing against his shirt, the fabric growing tighter every minute as the hairs thickened into a pelt an inch thick, puffing out of every opening.

The sun was slowly arcing across the sky as Allen sped towards Boise. He could feel his body changing the further he went, and for the first time he wasn’t worried about it. A smile peeked out from his bearded face as he stuffed a hand under his shirt, feeling the dense fur that had come in. The wiry, springy hairs twisted around his fingers as he combed through them, causing his cock to leak through his shorts. He didn’t mind anymore; this is what a trucker was. A hairy sweaty, masculine beast. His cock pulsed again at that thought, and he could feel the bristling of hairs begin to spread again.

The sparse dusting of hair on Allen’s shoulders began to thicken up, with new follicles bursting to life and pushing out new hairs. Within minutes his shoulders had grown a coat to rival most men’s chest hair, and they weren’t done. Thick hairs extended down over his triceps, connecting to the dense fur on his forearms that had grown days before. Hairs radiated out from his shoulders across his traps, meeting like waves crashing together upon his neck. His back began to tingle and itch as peach fuzz appeared in patches across the empty expanse. The fuzz quickly thickened up into dark, mature hairs, starting around his shoulder blades. It briefly looked like Allen was sprouting hairy wings as the patches spread, thick hairs igniting the fuzz into a real man’s pelt. He could feel the fur slowly inching its way down his back, creating a solid mat of hair from his neck stretching downwards as it claimed more and more territory. The hairs sprouted out, tangling together as swirls and patterns formed across his back. He barely needed the shirt anymore, with insulating fur on all sides of his torso. Allen felt the hairs thickening, pushing against his shirt and the seat behind more and more as he kept driving.

The sun began to hang low in the sky as Allen entered the final stretch of his drive. He looked down at the odometer, seeing that he’d added over 1,500 miles to it already. He watched as it ticked up another mile, sending chills through his body. The fields around him turned to city outskirts as he closed in on his destination. Another mile ticked by, and Allen’s cock started to tent in his shorts. He didn’t want the drive to end now, he wanted the truck to keep molding him, changing him into a different man. Another mile. He could feel the hair across his body bristling as it filled in at large, new follicles coming to life between the old, linking beard to back to pubes in a seamless pelt. His cock was dripping precum like a faucet, pushing more and more against his already too-tight underwear. Another mile. His beard itched as hairs pushed out, lengthening and thickening. Hairs grew denser, a thick mustache unfurling above his lip, pouring over the edges into an increasingly wild beard. Allen took one hand off the wheel and grabbed his engorged cock below. Another mile. Hair continued to flow from Allen’s face, his beard growing bushy as it pushed out further. Allen pumped his cock, precum gushing over the head and down his shaft, soaking into his thick bush. Another mile. Allen’s hand slid up and down his thick shaft, feeling the soft hairs sprouting from it as more precum poured from the tip. He let out a moan as his pelt continued to fill in, looking nearly like fur at some points. He was nearing the end. 

Allen pulled off the highway and onto smaller streets, approaching the warehouse that he’d been assigned. Another mile ticked by. His body nearly spasmed from pleasure as hair pushed out of him, growing thicker and lusher across his form. His huge balls ached, ready to empty themselves as he continued to stroke. He entered the mostly empty loading zone, maneuvering the massive 40-ton truck with ease. He was an expert at this now. Lined up with his dock, he began to back in the truck. His breathing quickened, pumping his cock faster and faster as hair slithered out from every pore imaginable. He inched back towards the loading dock, brakes squealing, until he came to a stop perfectly, the odometer ticking up one last time. His cock erupted, thick white cum exploding all over him and the cab, getting caught in his newly grown pelt. His hand continued to pump as rope after rope shot out, dripping from his beard and the steering wheel as waves of pleasure shook his body. He could feel every hair, every follicle that had sprouted across him, and it was ecstasy. The sensation of hair rubbing together, curling and tangling and coating his body was unimaginable. The flow of cum gradually came to an end as Allen sat there, panting, finally realizing the truth of those old truckers’ words. He was one of them now. Sweaty. Horny. Hairy. He smiled. Bliss.

Derrick yanked the jock up over his thighs and let the cold, sticky cock pocket fold up over his hard dick and balls. He quickly bent his knees and let the straps take their place around the crest of his butt cheeks and he pulled the waist bands up on top of his Adonis.

Snap.

Despite the cold and stickiness, Derrick was somewhat impressed with himself. "I think I might start wearing jocks at the games now! I feel like a million bucks when I have this on. I think it'll make me a better..."

He wasn't able to get "Player" out of his mouth before the bands on the jock tightened uncomfortably around him. They awoke with a force that Derrick that never felt before. "AWW!" Derrick shouted as he grabbed the bands. "It got really tight. Oh fuck, Chad, I can't get it off!"

Derrick started to fumble around in a panic trying to get the jockstrap off, but he felt the cock cup awaken with a strong vibration, and as it did he noticed a new surge of energy enter into his body through his cock and balls.

Derrick quickly lost his footing as the left foot jolted forward, he felt his exposed butt protrude hard against the straps as he nearly fell to the ground, catching himself with his hands on the floor. That was when he noticed that his hands and feet were exploding with growth. His eyes widened as his feet began to ripple wider, toenails stretching forward as the feet expanded, black hairs sprouting from the tops of his toes and then his feet as a dull, brown complexion started to stain his formerly pale feet. As they bubbled upward, his feet took on a rough texture and his nails hardened and elongated.

The darker complexion moved up Derrick's legs and forearms. His thin, short blonde hairs on his legs darkened to a dark brown as his calves bubbled then pushed out new contours of sinew. His legs soon turned into a coarse carpet of brown as his thighs bulked up thicker and thicker. The rumbling on his cock, meanwhile, was starting to finally manifest in his package. His dick quickly thickened into a fat, long sausage of a cock while his balls filled and dropped heavily filling the jockstrap with his new Man Meat. Meanwhile his finely-toned butt began to push out with hard muscle and fat, thickening into boulders of an ass and protruding and stretching the jockstraps around his ass.

"OH FUCK!" Derrick finally shouted with fear. "What the fuck is happening to me, bro?!" He shouted to Chad. "What the FUCK!?!"

Chad couldn't help but look on, he was completely hypnotized by what was happening in front of him. Derrick had been well-cut but not thick previously. That was quickly changing as his gut filled and fattened, both hard muscle and weight from age started to weigh in on him. Soon his flat but strong pecs began to beef up and out into large pectorals. His thin puff of blonde hair over his chest began to thicken with a the same coarse brown hair that had matted his legs. Soon, his shoulders followed as the muscle moving up from his hands began to match. Thick brown hair grew to cover his forearms as veins began to poke out. A thick dusting of dark hair then moved downward to his bellybutton, a new treasure trail covering his body. Derrick's fingers calloused as his body took on an age and maturity of an older man, an older man who had experienced a lifetime of football, a lifetime of keeping a well-built body but had been beaten down only so slightly over time with age and experience. His ass covered with a new blanket of brown fuzz to match the hairiness of the rest of his body.

Derrick grabbed his head as he felt it contort. His thin, handsome image of a punter began to widen out, his jawline pushing outward, his face squaring up, wrinkles increasing across his shadowed face with a brown scruff. His blonde curled lengthened out into a dark, thick salt and pepper crew cut.

Derrick looked to Chad with a plea in his eye, "his mind, Chad, I can fuckin' feel him, I'm becoming him! NOO!" he shouted as he felt his personality, his own history, his own consciousness move away as the attraction and lifeforce of another man began to overwrite him. "He's taking over! Fucking Ryerson!"

Quickly Derrick's fear of losing his life became displaced with the memories and personality of the Coach overriding him. That smattering of a fear became a deep, mature chuckle as Derrick felt the embrace of the Coach.

"FEELS FUCKIN GREAT, HUH, RICHARDSON!?" Ryerson shouted looking at the young lad in front of him.

Richardson - Chad's last name. Only Coach called him that. Chad watched as the new Derrick, a clone of Ryerson in every way, walked over to the mirror to check himself out. He gave his heavy package a quick tug and whispered "fuck yeah" as his boner grew to full size under the cock pocket of the jockstrap.

Chad stumbled behind him as he tried to run, falling over the bench and landing on his naked butt.

Ryerson turned himself back around. "What the fuck is wrong with you kids?" the coach said with a smirk. "Don't you know to always keep your fuckin hands to yourself! Don't fuck with someone else's property!"

I don't understand! I put on my gym clothes to work out but my body suddenly started swelling up and I felt really hungry instead? What does it mean?

Fuck.

He needed to come. Now.

His cock was already rock hard—leaking, pulsing, demanding attention—and it had been for what felt like hours. He didn’t know when it started. He just knew he was soaked in sweat, his sheets kicked halfway off the bed, his heart pounding like he’d just sprinted a mile.

He fumbled for the drawer. Found lube.

His hand shook as he uncapped it and slicked his cock—hissing through his teeth the second he made contact.

Jesus. He was sensitive. He was burning up.

He needed something.

The stroker was there. On the floor. Or maybe he’d already suctioned it to the mirror? He couldn’t remember. Didn’t care.

He got up—legs heavy, cock bouncing, mind blank with need—and staggered toward the mirror.

And stopped.

Holy fuck.

That was him?

He stared at his reflection, chest rising and falling. He looked—he looked like someone else. Like a fucking porn fantasy.

Huge. Broad. Cut.

Not bloated gym-bro muscle either. This was cover-of-Men’s-Fitness shit. Shredded, sweaty, veiny. His pecs looked thick as armor, his traps rose like hills, and his shoulders flared out wide and round.

And hair—

Dark, dense, perfect. Spreading across his chest, down his stomach, curling lightly around his navel. The kind of body hair that belonged on a man like this.

He couldn’t stop staring.

He looked like a fucking god.

Big. Bold. Fuckable.

Fuck. He was gonna come just looking at himself.

He got closer to the mirror. His cock bumped the rubber sleeve—

“F-fuck,” he grunted. Just touching it made his knees shake.

He lined himself up, breath shuddering.

Slid the tip in slow—

“Shit.”

It hugged him. Tight, warm, obscene.

He couldn’t hold back.

Thrust once. Hard.

The stroker slapped against the mirror, suction popping. He caught it just in time, pushed back in deeper, watching his own body jerk with the movement.

He braced one hand on the wall, the other gripping the sleeve.

Started moving.

Slow at first.

Then harder. Faster.

He couldn’t stop watching himself.

His thick thighs bracing wide.

His sweaty chest bouncing with every thrust.

His face—lips parted, jaw clenched, flushed red from heat and need.

This was him.

He looked like a fucking alpha.

He was the alpha.

He started talking without meaning to.

“Yeah… fuck yeah, bro…”

Growling, low, possessive.

“This is what a real man looks like. Look at you. Fuckin’ stallion.”

He reached up, ran his hand over his pec. It was solid. Heavy. A thick shelf of muscle that felt like it could crush a guy’s skull.

He groaned. Rolled his thumb across his nipple—

“Oh fuck.”

That sent a jolt straight to his cock.

He grabbed the other one. Pinched both. Moaned loud.

Jesus. He was so hot.

So fucking hot.

He picked up the pace.

The mirror rattled against the wall.

The sound of his hips slamming into the stroker filled the room—wet, heavy, urgent.

His cock felt massive. Angry. Like it was too full.

It needed release.

He needed to blow.

He needed to breed.

“That’s it, bro. Fuck. Gonna fill it. Gonna wreck this pussy.”

He wasn’t even thinking. Just saying what felt right.

“Fuckin’ born for this. Built to breed.”

He reached up, flexed both arms—fuck, look at those biceps—

His pecs bounced with the motion, his abs carved and twitching under sweat.

He looked like something from a gay magazine his old self would’ve mocked—but now he wanted to devour it.

And that body was his.

His.

All his.

He slammed into the stroker, over and over, faster and faster—

His legs tensed, his balls pulled up—

He was gonna—

“Fuck, I’m gonna—!”

He—

…

—woke up.

Gasping.

Blankets twisted around his legs.

Hard as fuck.

His heart pounded in his chest. His cock ached. His whole body was hot, damp, tingling.

His boxers were soaked with pre.

He sat up.

And stopped breathing.

There was hair on his chest.

Not a dusting. Not peach fuzz.

Real, visible, masculine hair.

And when he flexed—

His arm bulged.

Hard.

More than it should’ve.

He stared at his reflection across the room.

He didn’t look like he did in the dream. Not yet.

But he looked closer.

And he was still hard as fuck.

Subject: Order #10108

Dear (REDACTED),

Thank you for your recent purchase from The Spiral, home for all your transformation needs! Your order #10108 has been received and is on its way as we speak. Your order includes:

(1) Thick_From_Thin(Nerd)

(1) Mystery(Self)

Expect delivery in 3-5 days.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

We knew you’d come around and round and round and round…

A few days later, an email came through from the Spiral. Included at the top was a photo. You hadn’t seen your friend in a few days, but even then you hardly believed it was the same guy:

They went on to detail how they caught up with him while he was leaving work one evening, caught him completely by surprise, and tossed him in the back of their van, peeling off into the night. He was quickly stripped and had his hands and arms strapped down so that the processing could begin. They administered a pretty standard concoction of hormones, numbing agents, and accelerants mainly focusing on muscle growth. Of course, to keep up his rate of growth, he needed to be pumped with an almost constant stream of protein shakes. Each muscle swole larger and larger, forced to its limit through chemicals and pure calories. Not to worry though, any and all extra fat was carefully suctioned out to be saved for later purposes. He fought like a tiger the whole time, and towards the end of his processing he did manage to snap a strap and made a grab for a technician. So, apologies, but an additional service fee for a personality change will have to be added. A quick prick and his rage was quickly converted to exude cockiness and vanity. Do not worry, a full personality replacement was not selected, so your friend will have many of his same quirks and interests, with just a layer of ‘bro’ layered on top. Finally, we made a few minor mental adjustments, overwriting the last two years or so to line up his current state with his memories, and before an hour was up he was dropped on his front lawn, new gym bag with supplements in hand to ensure consistent, continuous growth.

You were pretty shocked by the results. But looking at his after pictures, damn. It was hard to argue with results. You doubt he would consider himself small now. Mostly, you were worried about how tough his transformation ended up being. Would yours be that severe?

You wouldn’t have to wait long to find out. As you scrolled on your phone that night, a video of a spiral came across my feed. You knew you should ignore it, but something about the visuals and audio made you want to keep watching. The loop was short, and a blast of color and text swam in my vision as you stared blankly ahead, letting it pull you deeper. It felt so nice to just zoooone ouuuut….

And then my phone was gone.

You glanced around. You were in a building you had never seen before, high ceilings and concrete floors. It was nearly empty besides two men stood over you, fiddling with some machine. One had slipped my phone into his pocket. You tried to protest, but the shorter man just said “Quiet” and you could no longer speak. You debated running, but he said “Wait” and your muscles froze in place.

“Thank goodness the last one gave us the excess we needed” the taller of the two mumbled as he placed a mask over your head, and connected it to a tube attached to the mysterious machine.

“Let’s see, really a dealer’s choice. Let’s go… 4’8”, 235, a bit of muscle, full beard…”

“Do you only do cubs?”

“Shut up, he’ll love whatever we do.”

You heard the machine click on and there was a sudden pressure in your mouth. The liquid the soon filled you was creamy and sweet, with just a little tang. You tried to spit it back out, but were quickly foiled. “Suck” was all they had to say, and your body complied. As you chugged the sweet liquid, you felt your muscles grow heavy. Your body was warm, belly full, and mind so sleeepppy…

And everything was black.

When you woke up, you couldn’t tell that anything was different. You were as you had always been: a sexy, self-obsessed cub. It was a few days later, while you were spending time worshiping yourself in the mirror, when you finally saw you had missed an email:

Subject: Order #10108 Fulfilled

Dear (REDACTED),

Your order has been fulfilled. We know you have many options, but thank you for supporting The Spiral.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

Mutants got their needs too. Least in more subtle and smaller ways. Than none truly at all. Be it depending some might even divert from their original objectives to… hunt after the next big thing they want.

In this case a mutant had an itch for some feet. My friend’s feet in particular at that! Almost all of them do. It’s no real difference between how much love of them the lot of them have. His just happened to be on the menu for em!They just wanted the funky feet right in front of them.

Said they were extra sore and a little strong that evening so they thought it was best to let them air out. Little did he know these mutants can be a bunch of rats too. One whiff and they’re looking to snag some of that good good where ever the smell is coming from. Still make fun of him for it even now.

The freak didn’t really seem to care much for anything else luckily. Guess they just wanted the feet that night. Licking huffing and even fucking them. Sliding their freakish stinking cock between the soles like a faux pussy. Pumping in and out like a mad man. The intense fucking of his soles woke my bud up. Yet soon as he realized what was happening. He didn’t budge, didn’t want to. Just let them carry as he heard their grunts and moans. A raging build up, and then a wild eruption!

Arching their back and releasing his dirty seed all over the soles. Getting them all wet and sticky. He could even feel some of it start to seep in. Before the mutant began to lick it up and seemingly leave without much of another want, or a need for that matter. However despite not entirely getting fully infected himself. Them soles definitely were!! That smell hadn’t come out for a whole week and now he’s been walking around with his feet airing out most of the rooms around our spot! Smells constantly floating and the sweaty foot steps he leaves stay around and add to it! Like I said we bug him over it specially me!

Nothing like a little disinfectant can’t hurt. But the damn smell constantly keeps hitting me when I least expect it. In fact today the smell was a lot stronger today than usual! Got a full whiff of his feet when I walked in to get his ass up and guess they were extra funky. Cause the smell fully hit me! Had to run out to disinfect that shit off of and outta me!!! Think I was able to get that shit outta me but fuck I still feel fuzzy from it. As for him he’s been looking at me funny from when it happened! Like he’s happy about it!

Just something quick I've been sick and doing some part time work to pay bills GOD my ass felt so good, i couldn't take it off even if i wanted to. it was supposed to be a joke. I stole my roommates singlet, he was always so annoying and cocky, making fun of me just because I was some nerd and loudly fucking all those Twinks that went to his matches behind a thin wall. I always heard them moaning his name begging for more.

Look i had no problem with the gay thing it was just so inconsiderate...and weird. So I stole his singlet when I woke up this morning before he left. It would be so funny to see him on social media posted by his college wrestling teammates in some lost and found shit. I was just supposed to steal it not wear it.

Its just when i touched it it felt so....good. I thought why not, not even commando I slid it up, the fabric oversized, and reeking of sweat and musk. It was just supposed to be for a sec but they SNAPPED to my shoulders. The Fabric Sinking to my skin becoming SKIN TIGHT.

I tried to pull it off I did, but each tug PULSED the fabric, massaging my muscles, my cock, balls, AND ASS. I had to grab the table, my mind blurring as my chest burst forth with muscle. Two slabs of pure beef grace my chest as my hands caress each arm letting my new bulging biceps grace my form.

triceps begging to be worshipped as i did a double bi pose, my abs popping up like cobblestones as my waistline tappers down.

I gain my sense back briefly, my hands pulling at the singlet trying to get if off when I see the brand, and just know im fucked. KOK

I feel my balls fill with cum, my brain emptying, no longer able to think just

KOK

KOK

COK

COCK

the word beating against my head as the fabric beats my MEAT. My ass jiggling with each THRUST as it bubbles out, my legs growing to support my new bubble butt. IM SO CLOSE I JUST NEED

KOK

KOK

COK

COCK

The sound of Thunder echoed in his mind as he lay there. His body rippled with lingering effects of the lightening that had struck him. It didn't hurt surprisingly, if anything the sensation felt good.

He swore he could hear a deep voice in his head. It was oddly soothing to hear as he felt himself relaxing. His muscles ripple, expanding gradually in size that made his shirt feel more tightly around his growing physique. His hair that he kept short had started to grow longer. The dark shade of it becoming lighter in color as hismhair grows past his broader shoulders.

Real bros know I've been saying it since day one