if anyone is interested in role play dm me

I’m weak for men. I can’t help it. When I turned 18, I received the family gift, the ability to switch bodies with anyone with the great perk of the other person being unaware they were swapped. The ability basically makes them act like me no matter what. That part helped a lot because I always figured out where my body would be throughout the day.

In college it definitely led to a significant amount of fun times with women and men. Let’s just say you haven’t lived until you’ve made out with yourself, allowed your own body to dick you down, and then swap back to experience the climax for yourself.

But I would definitely say using my ability throughout college wore down its luster to me. It started feeling cheap and worthless. So for years after college I stopped, cold turkey. I moved to New York for a job and just kinda became one of the people on the street just going through the motions. People don’t say it too often but even people with immense power get depressed.

I was in a slump so I decided to start playing games during my time off. Instead of getting involved with myself after swapping, I would just attempt to live the life of the person I was in. An acting exercise if you will.

I’ve been a mother, a tutor, a tattoo artist, hell I even worked at a bodega for a week because I loved all the different people the job brought with it. It was exhilarating and felt like a vacation every week I lived as a new person.

I’d return to my body for a nearly 2 weeks before taking on one person for a week. I was coming home from a long week as a city librarian when I saw him on the subway. He was on the platform with a friend goofing off and taking pics.

The epitome of a himbo, Zeke was wearing such short shorts and a regular t shirt highlighting the parts of the body you’d expect someone that regularly works out to emphasize. Thick thighs, beefy arms. Honestly he was a fantasy come true and so SO different from everyone I’ve been before.

We both got on the same train but I had no idea where it was going truly. I sat down near him and closed my eyes. I focused on him and his perspective on the train before that similar nauseating feeling with the world’s lights flashing. I knew the shift had happened.

When I opened my newfound eyes I glanced over to see my former body looking down at his phone. He stayed on the train after me and my new friend got off and parted ways. His friend Brody told me they were going to an ABC party tonight so I left to plan my anything by clothes outfit.

As I walked into Zeke’s studio apartment I couldn’t help but explore every inch of it. I learned more about him and his life. He worked as one of several event planners at a larger firm and liked to workout and play soccer for fun.

All things I was definitely not into in my former life. The kitchen was lined with such healthy foods and supplements I tried to wrangle my head around how one makes meals with some of the things there. My journey to the restroom found his love for earthy but creamy scents in the shower and cologne.

I’ve done it so many times from the outside it may have looked mechanical but I wanted to see his body in all its glory. I disrobed my shorts and shirt to find he wasn’t even wearing underwear. I stood naked faster than anticipated.

Thick didn’t even begin to describe every aspect his body. From neck to toes he was built like a dream and I almost thought about going to the party like this but I suppose nudism is frowned upon still.

I tinkered with things around the apartment to see what I could fasten around my waist but nothing seemed to work. I settled on some cans I found around and decided to wear a speedo and then cut up the cans around it so I was giving all this thickness covered at least a little.

Modesty is the best policy after all, well at least in my body. I wasn’t really used to the way that Zeke clearly flaunted all that he worked for. Tonight was going to be a learning lesson for me for sure.

He looks down at the weakling he just shoved. It was only a light nudge with his arm, the little guy when sprawling to the floor. Mmmm, how weakness turns his on so much. His meat swells in his stuffed pants, the large bulge making more of a gap between his underwear and his solid body.

There he was, Aaron Carter, the dumb spoiled college dropout who still thought he was the hottest jock around - and for the most part he was damn right. After using his dad’s card (again) to buy some useless things from Amazon, he was surprised to be going through the box to find a webcam.

“Weird, I definitely don’t remember getting this,” muttered Aaron but then he smiled. His phone camera hadn’t been working for several days and how could he possibly go for so long without showing his bros his progress from the gym, right? Even if it was a bit old fashioned, Aaron sat back down on his computer chair, raising his arm and flexing to make sure to take the best pictures of himself and his muscled body. 

After a while and a few pictures later all capturing Aaron shirtless and cocky as ever as he began looking for the best one. “Oh yeah this is hot.”

It was suddenly when the webcam editor popped up that Aaron rolled his eyes. Usually these kind of software were trash, their edits were terrible and wouldn’t do much. But it wasn’t so much the software itself, but rather the names of these templates that were odd. “Beach Bum”, “Great Cowboy”, and one in particular “Soldier Stud.”

He saved the picture already as ‘Aaron Carter’, if anything bad were to happen he could just cancel.

“These are weird,” Aaron chuckled under his breath as he settled on “Soldier Stud”, suddenly watching as his image change as he started to see his own body on screen covered by a tight green outfit. “God I knew this was crap, it doesn’t even look real. This is-” It was when Aaron tried to reach over to his mouse that he suddenly looked down, his breath caught in his throat as he saw his own sleeve was covered in the same tight dirty green outfit that was on screen. “What the fuck?”

Aaron tried to move over to the mouse but he couldn’t anymore, at first he thought the baggy sleeves were tightening on him but it was something else. His own arms were suddenly beginning to bulge to the point where they were causing the sleeves to be wrapped tightly around his biceps. His own muscular growth causing him to be unable to stop what he thought was insanity…and also extremely hot.

“Oh fuck! Wait what if I-” Aaron mumbled, his thoughts growing jumbled as the feeling of the outfit being so tightly wrapped around his muscles made him hard. The euphoria of his own body growing was enough to cause him to feel waves of pleasure rushing down to his cock as he started to click on his chest and begin to drag a tab labelled “Chest Size”, making it larger and larger. 

And with every number that increased from the higher than average 30 to the maximum 50, Aaron could feel his own pecs jutting out to the point where his nipples perked up. Now as sensitive as the head of his cock as they rubbed against his new military uniform, one that he was so proud to be in!

Fuck yeah!

He loved having his great giant pecs and his big nipples touch it and he only wanted more. He suddenly clicked on his own thighs and changed the “Thigh Size” to a gigantic fifty as he could see what slivers of skin provided by the bottom half of his legs in the picture became a camo green as his lats strengthened whilst he dragged his cursor over to enable his legs to became larger and more muscular. 

But the best part wasn’t the fact that his own toes stretched out as he could feel steel-toed boots adorning them, or the fact that he could feel his own hair was growing more lighter by the moment. But it was his own cock.

Aaron clicked on his bulge only once but could feel like someone had already grabbed it as he watched another window pop up, ready to edit. But instead of girth or size, there was only something else, another window that simply said: Orgasm?

There was only one option and Aaron couldn’t handle it any longer. He clicked it and moaned out loud as his cock vibrated all at once as if was being activated and cum spilled out of the head of his cock.

He groaned, getting up, but not before making one final change.

Do you want to overwrite the file ‘Aaron Carter’?

Aaron clicked yes, ready to enjoy his new self and maybe let another deadbeat friend of his try out his camera. After all, he could do with a partner in the military.

The boy was ballooning by the second. He was dizzy and bulging with muscle. With a gulp, he remembered being in the kitchen that morning and accidentally adding a second scoop of Muscle-Gro powder to his pre-workout shake. The package clearly stated not to exceed one scoop in a single serving.

His brain was telling him to sit this one out, to go home and let the effects of the powder wear off naturally. His biceps, however, were telling him to get back out there and lift the heaviest fucking weights he could find.

Day 1 Warm Up

What up my fellow followers, it me Dave and we're back with another test! So I have signed up for muscle growth muscle expansion thing whatever they call and it supposed to make my body bigger, especially my pec.

As you all already know that I'm a pretty big guy myself, spend most of my time training and working out to be this huge, apparently those guy give and single pill and in 20 day my body will double or triple it size. It sounds like bullshit and hard to believe but I willing to test it out for my followers since you guys recommend so much.

I already use the pill before the recording so if you want to know if it work or not, remember to follow and hit the notification so you won't miss it.

Day 8 Milker

Hey there guy is Dave here! so as you already know it been 8 day since I try out the growing pill and to my surprise, it really work!

I mean just look at my huge pec! they massive! It been quite hard to find clothes that fit my current stage but it doesn't bother me that much.

What do bother me is heaviness my pec are, when I squeeze them with my hand it felt really soft not as hard as I thought. Sometimes I even feel something wet at my nibbles but it could be me sweating the shit out cause the weather been hit lately.

Day 14 Sunday Morning

We are back with another blog and as you guys can see I having some difficult time finding a shirt since my pec are too big. And recently picked up some habits to be more healthy and keep fit that why my skin look a bit tan or darker, so in my last blog some of you assume that my pec started producing milk and believe me it sounds crazy but I did test it out by squeezing and massaging it and slowly milk starts to come out my nibbles.

I felt really good after that but there no way I'm living like this, people will call me a cow and teasing me for it. I report the situation to the place but they didn't respond so I'm kinda worried, you guy wish me luck.

Day 20 Final Day

GUYS!! You have to help me! it been a couple day since my last blog and just look at me! a completely different person!

I signed up for growing bigger muscle not becoming a horny cow person. My pec is just too big and heavy to the point I can't stand up straight anymore cause they are weighing me down and my skin are literally black now!

This morning I wake up and you guys know what happened? MILK was everywhere! but that not all, my cock is tiny now! it wasn't like this yesterday and when I try to touch it, no response but my pec was getting harder and sensitive like how a penis would act when hard.

I don't know what to do at this point, I try to send them a full email explaining what happened just to realize the site were gone like never existed in the first place.... Maybe it best to getting use to this situation.

“So Charlie, what did you wish for Christmas?”

“Really? Can we just watch the movie?” I say, annoyed.

Daniel had been my boyfriend for about a month now and had recently moved into my flat, just in time for Christmas. Since then things had been a struggle, he would continually whine about my inadequacies - how I didn’t tidy enough, didn’t appreciate him and most of all how I was a terrible top.

See, the problem was, we were both twinks. We had the same skinny body type, with barely any muscle definition. The only real difference being he had the better ass. Admittedly, I had a severe lack of confidence in the bedroom, frequently failing to get in the mood. Daniel on the other hand was very particular about what he liked and what he expected.

“Come on! You must be able to think of something. God knows there’s enough things you can be better at…” Daniel chastised.

Even now he had turned a harmless movie night into another chance to take petty digs. We were on the couch watching some cheesy xmas film, where the protagonist makes wishes that magically come true. Now he was insisting for me to make some stupid wish.

“Why don’t you go first? You seem to have a lot of ideas in mind.” I shoot back, not taking my eyes off the screen.

“Hmm, I got the perfect one! Charlie, I wish… you were a better top!” He laughs and nudges into my shoulder.

I roll my eyes, of course, I should of guessed this is where things were heading. Ugh. Out of nowhere I feel a chill wash over my whole body and a tightness take hold in my chest. After a moment the feeling subsides.

“Very funny. Have you been thinking that one up all night.” My voice dripping in sarcasm.

I shift in my seat slightly, a dull warmth emanating from my crotch. I must be feeling unwell, I’m definitely not being turned on by his degrading remarks. But the heat doesn’t fade, in fact it only grows in intensity. I get the impulse to grope at my growing bulge, the tightness straining against my jeans. Daniel would never live it down If I did, but it was becoming rather uncomfortable.

“You look a little flustered there… ah. I see. Are you really getting horny from this? Christ, you’re pathetic.” Daniel scolds, reaching his hand down.

Before I can object he unzips my trousers and pulls down the waistband of my briefs. My cock bursts forth and slaps against my chest, pre already leaking from it’s tip. Except it’s not my cock, this monster is almost twice my normal size. And my balls are inflating in front of my very eyes.

“What the hell?” I shout.

“Woah, oh shit, it’s working. It’s a Christmas miracle!” He exclaims in barely contained glee.

“Daniel, what did you do!” My voice cracks.

My dick continues to snake up my torso, going from 5 inches, to 7 then to 8. As it grows, so does my hornyness, overpowering my head as I fall into a drunken stupor. This is the most intense erection I’ve ever felt. My hand rubs up and down the entire length and I attempt to wrap my fingers around it, before discovering its girth is now thicker than my hand.

“Nice cock ‘bro’. Good tops are well equipped downstairs. And now, you are too. Hahaha” I look over and see him smirk at me.

He’s enjoying this far too much for my liking, but I’m in no position to fight back. Why did he make that stupid wish, I better not be stuck with this forever. At this point I don’t think my cock would even fit into any underwear I own. How exactly can I walk around with this thing swinging between my legs.

“You know who makes good tops? Jocks. That cocky attitude and carefree nature, coasting through life without thinking.” Daniel suggests, wistfully.

Jocks are also narcissistic morons. And I’m certainly not going to be one just to be a better ‘top’. I’m suddenly distracted by a chafing from my rear, a pair of straps seem to be cupping the cheeks of my tight butt. Below my balls now sits a stained pouch, the smell of musk rising from it hits my nose and I recoil.

“I think it’s jockstraps only from now on Charlie. And woof, sweaty ones at that.”

All of my senses are being overpowered, it’s like my head is in a vice that keeps on tightening. The film in front of me becomes a blur, my focus shattered by the intense pleasure from my new cock.

“Cock.” I blurt out.

I hear Daniel laughing from out of view.

My head is starved of oxygen as all the blood rushes to my groin, I’ve never been this horny before. I feel the strangest sensation as my brain thickens, filling up with throbbing meat. All the space padded out until I’m holding up a heavy dumbbell on the end of my neck. My thoughts were still there, somewhere, but it took so long to find them. It was quicker and easier to just embrace jockdom, stop worrying so much and just go along with the flow. If I was unsure of what to say then bro, I’d just say ‘bro’! A bro can fill in sentences with ‘bro’ and everyone will know what a bro they are. And bro? Being labeled as a dumb bro means no one expects anything meaningful from me. Brawn over brains is the mantra of my life dude.

“Jock’s also like to wear their bro-hood on their sleeves, and in your case, quite literally.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth I feel a sharp pain, as if a hundred needles are stabbing down my arm. I brace myself before glancing down. And there it was, 🍖 the meat emoji tattooed on my left hand. Huhhuh, awesome bro. Branded a meathead for life.

“Bro?” I ask slowly, my voice now considerably deeper.

“Yeah ‘Chad?’” Daniel emphasises.

The name immediately sticks to me like glue. Chad. I am such a Chad. I have some distant recollection of being someone else, but I can’t be bothered to search my brain for it. There’s a more pressing concern.

“Bruh, I need to empty my balls.” I grunt. The pressure from my engorged member becoming unbearable.

“Then you know what to do. Good muscle tops have their cocks milked every day.”

I grip my cock and begin pumping in earnest, my jaw hanging open. As I masturbate, my hands and arms bulk up with muscle. I see my veins very noticeably pop out. I feel a desperate urge to flex, letting one hand go from my dick. I ball it into a fist and raise it to the side of my head, squeezing my biceps. My arm pulses with meat, sending a vain satisfaction to my pleasure center.

“Good dumb tops spend all their time in the gym or on the field. Sculpting their body into the perfect chiselled shape.” His nasally voice instructs.

Muscle continues to form all over my lithe frame; my shoulders broaden and my chest ripples into a tight 6 pack. My clothes are loudly ripped to shreds. Memories enter my head of spending hours working out, of hanging with the other jocks and forming a vacant facade of a personality. Sweat drips from my hairy armpits, staining the couch under me. The room quickly starts smelling like a gym, my rank feet tearing free from my socks. My face cracks as it squares out into a more defined outline, brow growing heavy above my distant eyes. My body is now taking up most of the couch as Daniel budges over to the side. I quicken my pace, pumping now with both hands. My balls tighten.

“Fuck yeah brah.” I roar, reaching climax.

My cock spurts rope after rope of musky cum directly at my face, I’m left covered in my own seed. Daniel leans over to me and begins to eagerly lick at my face. He savours my taste on his tongue before swallowing. The sign of an expert bottom, huhuhu.

“Mmm. Great Tops know how to take control. And you’re a great top Chad.” Daniel moans in lust.

He’s right.

“Dude, this film is fucking dull. I’m changing to the sports channel bro. There’s a sick game playing today.” My hands take the remote and switch to a noisy football game.

I grab Daniels’s tiny little body and force him onto my lap. I flex again and push his face into my armpit. His tongue drags along my wiry dank hair. He moves his hand between my legs and starts passionately fingering his hungry ass hole, using my cum as lube. I hear him panting heavily like a dog. Man, my boyfriend is such a whiny brat…

“Bro, it’s my turn.” My cocky voice booms.

“What?” I hear his muffled voice cry out.

“Uhh… I wish… I wish you were a Bro like me, Bro.” I smirk.

“Wait, noooo!” He screams.

His body shudders and contorts as I hold his face to my pits with my newfound strength. He packs on pounds of muscle in a matter of seconds. Dan’s moaning turns to grunts. He’s going to make for such a Good. Arrogant. Dumb. Bro.

I watch his dong stretch down his leg, his balls sagging between his thickening thighs. The head of Dan’s veiny cock leaking like a faucet. A pair of juicy pecs push out from his chest and his adam apple swells. I pull away the remains of his clothes, letting them fall to the ground.

Dan’s dainty feet beef up to a size 12, sweat gathering between his toes - smelling like a real man should. I feel his previously fat bubble butt tense with lean muscle on my lap. With a squeak, his thoroughly abused fuck hole tightens shut, never to be stretched open again. He only tops after all, like me.

I release my grip on him and he pulls away, my sweat covering his square jawed face. He stuffs his junk into a jockstrap, looking barely concealed as it throbs with need. His messy hair has receded into a clean as fuck buzzcut. We now look almost identical, except that his meat emoji 🍖 tattoo is engraved on his right hand.

“Bro!” Dan’s voice deepens.

(at time of writing muscle bull won the vote so I hope you enjoy)

Mikey took one last picture in front of the gym mirror, showing off every bulging muscle of his tight and toned frame. He typed his wish into the ask box "I wish for a change (but I wanna keep my muscle)" and looked into the mirror waiting for his changes to begin.

As soon as he pressed send Mikey felt his body begin to pulse and swell. He heard the sound of his skin stretching as his muscles swelled up underneath. Mikey grabbed his pec feeling it bulge and swell bigger, the pulses of growth matching his heart beat.

"ah, fuck yeaahhhh" Mikey moaned flexing in the mirror.

The growth began to slow down, Mikey put on some cloths feeling them tight over his massive body, unable to stop flexing to himself and laughing at how muscle bigger he had grown. He left the locker room to test his new massive body in the gym.

After an hour in the gym Mikey realised he had lifted a barbell maybe once. He was too busy staring at his massive frame in the gym mirror. Other guys around him looked puny, he looked almost over grown but he loved the size.

Mikey took a deep breath flexing again but feeling something strange in his pelvis. A butterfly like sensation stirring in his groin, Mikey looked down and moaned watching as the fabric around his dick expanded and stretched out. His eyes widened and he bit his bottom lip watching it expand and grow bigger. Mikey got up and left the gym, in such a rush he forgot his bag, he got in his car feeling another surge of growth. Driving home as fast as he legally could Mikey anxiously rubbed his groin feeling a surge of pleasure as he touched it. He wanted to lift up his waist band but was even more desperate to enjoy himself as soon as he saw what was under it.

Mikey pulled up in his driveway getting out of his car, feeling what felt like his balls now so big they rubbed against his thighs. Suddenly another pulse of growth washed over his groin.

"AWWWW FUCCKKKKKKK" Mikey moaned out falling back to lean on the side of his car.

Mikey tried to run to his door but it was more of a waddle feeling the squeeze in-between his legs, Mikey shut his door and leant against it, staring up at the ceiling he moaned feeling one last massive surge. **RIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP**

Mikey heard his gym shorts tear apart and felt his underwear snap. Mikey let out a excited laugh looking down at his new package but it wasn't his dick that he saw. Mikey's face quickly soured as he saw a massive pink udder sagging in place of where his dick would be.

"w..w...w-WHAT THE FUCK" Mikey started to panic, grabbing onto one of his new four dick.

Another sudden pulse hit him and Mikey watched as his new sagging udder swelled up even more he felt it become tight, and then painfully tight, completely full.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DICK"

Mikey slid down against his door until he was sitting on the floor. He placed both his hands around the massive round udder. All four of his dicks began to leak pre.

"oh god...what the fuck do I do with this thing"

Mikey started jerking one of his dicks, his head fell back slamming against the door as he felt the best pleasure he's felt in his entire life. It was barely 30 second before he came and his dick squirted cum over his chest and wall. Mikey couldn't help but move onto the next one, feeling the intense pleasure, and again and then again. By the time he finished one another was rock solid. Mikey stood up wiping the cum off his massive body, moaning at his full cock udder than still felt like it was gonna burst.

Mikey walked to his bedroom and saw his huge body in the mirror, he flexed and posed his new huge muscles, he was the biggest man he's ever seen. His body took up most of his mirror and his giant hand struggled to hold his phone. His eyes wondered down his enormous frame.

Mikey let out a deep sigh dropping his phone on the ground. He stared at the massive cock udder that was now the size of a beach ball. He wrapped both his hands around his, jiggling it up and down hearing sloshing from inside. The four dicks instantly became hard from the slightest touch. Mikey have it a slight squeeze watching as all four dicks squirted cum onto his mirror.

"Oh god, I look like a fucking cow..."

---

The best part about my boy is the part of him that peeks out, whatever I change him into. He’s always just so eager to play, to learn the rules of whatever role I’ve just shifted him into.

It’s almost a challenge for me at this point, to see if there’s some kind of guy that I can turn him into, where I would actually have a hard time finding him within.

I was astonished how much he just went with it when I first changed him.

“How would you describe yourself, Matt?” I asked him, lying in bed as he poked through out closet, picking out a shirt.

“Um…” he said, not really turning. “To who?”

“What kind of vibe do you give off, if someone were to see you on the street,” I said, staring at his back.

He gave a light laugh and slight shrug.

“I dunno, probably your average Brooklyn hipster, early 30’s, tall, skinny, boy next door in flannel,” he said.

“Are you sure?” I said, and he stopped. “Are you sure they wouldn’t see you as some scruffy jock on his way to the gym?”

And suddenly, he stood all the way up, his arms swelling, his floofy hair shrinking down into a buzzcut. A short beard crept along his face as his chest broadened, stretching out a Nike tee across his meaty pecs. He shrank down a few inches, his loss of height offset by his sudden broadness.

He turned to me. I froze, waiting to see his reaction.

And then, without missing a beat, he popped his arms behind his head and flashed me a grin.

“I can’t help it if people stare at my guns,” he said in his now lower voice, flexing his biceps, and taking a step toward me. He looked down at himself, and then back at me.

“Like what you see, babe?” he said.

I did.

He took a step closer.

“Want a whiff of these pits before I hit the gym then?”

I did.

I kept him as a jockboy for a week. And then, one morning, as he was pulling out a pair of gym shorts, I asked him, “How would you describe yourself?”

He gave a low, gruff chuckle.

“Probably some dumb, scruffy jock,” he said.

“Are you sure?” I asked, and he froze. “Are you sure people wouldn’t see you as some just turned 19, smooth faced skater boy?”

He looked at me the whole time he shrank, as his frame got leaner and leaner. Years melted off him as his beard and body hair disappeared, and a golden glow ran over his face and skinnier body. His lips got puffier, his eyes softer. I caught a glimpse of his slightly longer, spiky hair as a blue skater cap appeared on his head. The former gym rat, now 5'7’’, maybe 130 pound skater seemed less cocky, more boyish.

“I mean, the skateboard kinda gives it away,” he laughed, light and bubbly, still not breaking eye contact.

I stood up. He came up to my chest now. I wrapped my arms around his now lithe frame and kissed him. He melted into my embrace, leaning into my grip.

Our kiss finally broke and I looked down at him. And there he was, eyes alight. My same boy.

And so it went, for weeks. We would never talk about the change. I never asked him if he liked being one man over another. He had the same eager grin, no matter the man, no matter the role. An older dom daddy: my boy. A twinky porn star go-go dancer: my boy. A chubby chain smoking bear: my boy. A clean cut sailor on leave: my boy.

It’s Friday night. He’s about to cook us dinner when I call out,

“How do you think people see you?”

“I’m sure the glasses and patched elbows on my blazer give away that I’m some kind of academic,” he says, gently.

“Are you sure?” I grin. “Are you sure you’re not a kinky, gear addict slut?”

He adjusts the harness as it wraps around his chest and stares at me, on the bed.

“Dinner can wait, boy,” he growls.

And as he steps toward me, massive dildo in hand, I see it flash in his face.

Just an hour into the night and this hot guy- and I mean hot, shirtless muscular torso, sexy dark stare, and tight black jeans showing off all his massive assets- this guy beelines straight by me and gives Tanner a hello. I was worried it was a joke, but he seemed genuinely into him- all while Tanner seemed shell shocked. Eventually the stud asked Tanner to dance and before he could say no I pushed him onto the dance floor and just like that the mystery guy took the lead.

Every so often I looked over at them like a worried but proud guardian seeing how he was doing. The guy was totally into him, pulling Tanner up against his chiseled body and grinding to the beat. Tanner looked awkward and nervous but he was slowly getting into it and more comfortable. I almost cheered when the guy pulled Tanner in for a kiss and after a brief pause Tanner returned it even more passionately, and started grinding up against the half naked hotty. Damn didn’t know Tanner had it in him.

Not one to creepily watch, I let them get lost in the crowd knowing I would demand a full recap later. I flirted with my own interest at the bar, things were looking good for me too, but before I knew it Tanner was right beside me, wide eyed and out of breath, covered in sweat.

“Ha Tanner! Where did you come from?”

“I uh… just hot. Ya know”

“Well you look it” and in fact he kind of did. Who would’ve thought my little Tanner just needed a good dance floor make out to look this good. I’d never seen him this flushed and coated in sweat before. His tshirt clung to him like a second skin. And was he taller then I remembered? Fuck how much did I have to drink.

“You think it’s ok if I head home early… I want to uh… well… um… this guy is fUcKIng hOT”

I don’t think I ever heard him curse before let alone hear his voice crack this deeply.

“Don’t need my permission! Go for it dude!”

“Thanks man!” he gave a wide goofy grin, grabbed my drink and proceeded to throw back the entire cup of vodka soda.

“Mmm really needed that”

“Er well no problem. Have fun tonight”

“Thanks bro. I will”

Just like that he was off leaving me slightly bewildered. He definitely never called me bro before, and that smirk was brand new. Guess he was a few drinks in too!

I headed out not soon after with my bar guy, Tanner quickly

——

Cut to this morning. I’m finally home, eager to get fresh clothes when I run into some shirtless bro in the hallway.

“Sup Marcus? Have fun night??”

That voice… deep… slow… hot… but… “Tanner?”

“Seems like I went through a bit of a growth spurt last night” he lifted up two arms and flexed with a cocky grin, “Guess I just need a good fuck right? Haha”

He was rolling his shoulders back and forth stretching and flexing. I could barely believe it, let alone respond as my eyes traced his muscular body and locked onto the massive bulge in his shorts.

“Huhu like the view?” He groped his bulge, letting out a deep moan “That guy was a good fuck but I could use a little more fun bro.” He turned to his room slipping down his shorts on the way and putting his round perfect ass on display.

“So you cummin or what?”

What … what just happened? Everything felt so dizzy. Brandon stumbled over to a support beam and clutched at it. His ear buts draped down over his chest, only being held by the tight strap on his tank top.

… When did he get a tank top? And for that matter, when did he get so jacked? He huffed and pulled at the sticky fabric clinging to his abdominals. He shuddered at the feeling of the shirt pulling against rock-hard stones.

“I … I’m big. When did I–?” he froze. “My voice…” It was so deep, gravelly. He looked for a mirror, but he couldn’t see one in the labyrinth of weight machines. Weights clanged rhythmically, pounding against his brain as he struggled to focus. What had just happened?

“Hey, you okay, bro?”

Brad turned to stare at another hulk. Two bluetooth earpieces popped out on either side of his head. The man had to be at least six and a half feet tall. His bright red shoes blended almost perfectly with the floor. Or … was that just the blurry vision?

“Hey. I’m asking if you’re all right.”

Brad blinked slowly. “I … I don’t know,” he finally said. “I … what happened?” He scrunched his brow together and closed his eyes. “My … head.” He groaned and his breathing became labored.

Two big hands seized his arms. “Easy, bro. Easy. Big bro’s here.”

“Big … bro?”

The muscle man chuckled as he laid a thick arm around Brandon’s shoulders. “Well, yeah. What else would I be to all you pipsqueaks?” he asked jokingly and gave Brandon a friendly jab to the shoulder.

“I … I’m so confused.” Brandon put a hand to his head. “I … I remember coming in, putting on my clothes, then….”

The big man frowned. “How long you been feeling dizzy?”

“I … just now, I guess.” Brandon’s breathing calmed as the big man navigated the maze of machines. Occasionally, the blur of a muscular form would be pumping dumbbells or doing squats. Some posed with selfies in the mirror. But they all seemed … well, not quite there. It was like they were sort of … merging with the gym. He could hardly make out their legs. This man was the realest thing he’d seen since … whatever this was happened.

The man who identified himself as Big Bro looked carefully over Brandon’s form. “Let’s find you a place to sit down,” he said. The sea of machines seemed almost to part at his advance. A few moments later, a chair appeared out of the sea of red tiles. No, not a chair, a … bench? Two forceful arms pressed him down and he peered into a set of intense green eyes.

“You’ve been making some pretty substantial gains,” the man noted. “I saw you drinking between sets, so it’s not dehydration,” he murmured. He stroked his chin, then lowered his gaze.

Brandon reached up and stroked his own chin, then jumped in surprise at the feeling of the stubble that had grown along his jaw. He always preferred to go clean shaven. Why had he let that slip? Why would  he let it slip? He thought he felt his legs stretching for a minute, but he couldn’t be sure. It was more like a yank than a kick.

“Sorry, bro. I have to check,” Big Bro said as free air danced over bare skin.

Brandon wiggled his toes and stared down in some surprise. His head felt … clearer.

Big Bro nodded in satisfaction. “Good. No puncture marks.” He smiled good-naturedly. “How do your feet feel?”

Brandon frowned. “Throbbing,” he muttered in surprise.

“Thought so.” Big Bro chuckled. “You got the wrong shoe size, dumbass.” He laughed and rose to his feet.

“Hey! I’m not a dumbass. I’m a … I’m a … a….” Brandon blinked in surprise. He … couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t he remember? Why could he only think of weight machines and sports bars and … and …

“Easy, bro. You’re gonna have a panic attack.” The big man patted him gingerly on the back. “I’ll tell ya what. Put these on, and we’ll go see the doc, okay? Gym’s got one right on staff. He’ll be happy to check you out.”

“I … yeah. That … that’ll be good.” Brandon could barely keep himself from hyperventilating. His hands shook as he fumbled for the shoes.

“I can tie ‘em for you, if you want.”

“No!” Brandon was shocked at how much his voice carried. The gym ground to a halt at the sudden disturbance. He blushed. “Sorry. No. I … I can do it, myself.” If he didn’t, he knew he was going to go insane.

Big Bro backed off. “Whatever you say, little bro.” The rhythmic clanking resumed seconds later.

Brandon pulled his socks on and marveled at the way his muscles rubbed against each other as he moved. ‘Is this really me?’ he thought. Then came the shoes. They felt cool and crisp; a little rigid, though.

“Ready to go, little bro?” Big Bro asked.

“I just need to finish this last loop and–.” A wave of vertigo washed over him as he pulled the knot tight. The clanking pounded louder. His heartbeat quickened. “And … and … uhhhhh….” The red in his shoes seemed almost to glow, and a dopey smile pulled at his lips. He watched the red bleed from the floor into his legs. He felt a stirring in his loins. His muscles tensed with a nervous energy. He blinked, and suddenly he felt the high back of an adjustable workout bench resting against his back.

“Feelin’ better, little bro?”

Blood surged through his head. His snapback had been reversed now, and he smirked cockily at the behemoth as he let out a drunken laugh. “Huhuhuh. Never been better. Guess I just … blacked out. Sorry for scarin’ ya.”

Big Bro chuckled. “Dumbass. Now go drop kick that plateau into next week!”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Fuck yeah!”

“Fuck, yeah!”

Big bro grinned. “Back to work, little bro.”

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Mature for language.

——————————————————–

I’m sharp. Folks used to say I was the nosiest boy they’d ever known. I’d ask so many questions I could probably annoy the devil himself into letting me into heaven, just to get me to shut up. I’d look at things, wonder how they work, break ‘em apart in my head, then put them back together again. You know, sort of like an overhaul or a restoration. Which is why I knew something was up with my BIG BRO when he started skipping classes.

Sometimes, … well, it sounded almost like there were two people living in his room, if you get what I mean. Sometimes I’d be talking to the old Big Bro, and he’d be bright and cheery and talk all that psychology bullshit. Other times, he’d just eat and drone about how he needed to go to the gym.

Fuck, even mentioning it’s getting me all pumped.

Big Bro would be so proud.

Anyway, yeah, Big Bro started bulking up hella fast. Like, he threw everything into getting jacked. Bro got so swole, he got recruited personally by the school’s football team. It was just like those machines I used to mess with. He just … changed, built his bod into a fucking machine, even got to change his voice. It’s a lot deeper now. He likes to go by Dick, says it makes him feel more like a man.

Gotta say, when I look at him now, Richard definitely doesn’t come to mind. Bro got hella huge hella quick. Now he’s just a big dumb Dick. Huhuh. 

Yeah, ….

Anyway, bro got into all this really loud music. Like, it kept blasting through our doors, and I guess it was okay after a while, cause he figured out how to keep it muffled n’stuff, but … Idunno. Guess it’s sorta weird.

He stayed nice, though. Bro never insulted us or hurt us, well, except when we were messing around, talkin’ shit. And we’d just sort of throw back and forth like that. Nerd, jock, bro, geek, musclehead. It was sort of like a ritual. And we’d just smile and laugh about it, each calling the other the opposite of what we were.

And the music kept playing.

And I kept laughing.

I mean, our rooms are right across from each other, so yeah, it’s sort of natural that we hang out.

It’s natural to hang out.

Cause bros hang out….

One day, he caught me doing some of my home exercises. Family sent me a new challenge to help build core strength. It’s too easy to build up that freshman ten into a twenty and grow from there, if you know what I’m saying. This was something to help keep it in check while I worked on projects and homework.

Big Bro just smiled and was like, “Dude, just come to the gym with me. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

“Too much work man,” I replied. And I felt almost … bad telling him that, but it was the truth.

Big Bro grinned. “This weekend, then. You, me, the gym. Trust me, you’re gonna love it.”

“You’re not gonna let me back out of this, are you?”

The grin widened. “Nope.”

——————————————————-

The rhythm at the gym is sort of addicting. Weights just clank and clank and clank, and the body drives, and you can just … zonk out, clear your head, you know? And it’s so damn easy. First time we went, we spent an hour there. An hour, and it felt like thirty minutes.

Big bro chuckled. “Told you you were a musclehead.”

“Shut up, nerd,” I shot back. “Don’t expect this to become a habit.”

…

It became a habit.

It became more than a habit.

When I started growing, Big Bro took me into his room, showed me some of the stuff he likes to use to help him grow, build his strength. Promised it’d do the same for me if I just listened, bro. 

And I don’t know what it was, but … I did listen. I listened to my Big Bro, and it was like … Idunno, like someone turned the knobs in my brain, switched the radio frequency, you know?

I still remember the first time I dropped that shaker cup I’d been using in the kitchen. The word slipped out of my mouth before I could even think. I … hadn’t been doing much thinking in the mornings, anyway, really.

“Fuck….”

The others gaped at me.

Big Bro just grinned.

Money changed hands in front of me, and all I could do was stare as I picked up my drink and guzzled it. I knew the money was about me, but for some reason, I didn’t–no, I couldn’t care. I had a schedule to keep. I shuffled, nah, more lumbered, I guess. I throw my weight around a lot now. Anyway, I grabbed my gym bag and raised the shoulder strap.

And that’s when it happened.

RRrrrrrrrrrip!

The shirt sleeve tore at the pit.

And like my reps at the gym, I couldn’t just stop at one. My brain acted on a signal, like someone clicked a remote or something to start me up.

Rip. Rip. Rip. Rip.

Rip. Rip. Rip. Rip.

Rip. Rip. Rip. Rip.

I remember my chest shaking, sort of heaving at the sight. I was crying for some reason, but I didn’t get it. My chest stuttered and shook. My room was a mess from all the sleeves I’d shredded.

“Huhuhuhuh.”

A heavy hand clapped my shoulder. “That’s it, little bro. Let it out, meathead.”

I didn’t understand what he meant then, but the exchange was so common, so deeply ingrained by this point, that I responded without even thinking. “Turd.” It was the first time I’d used that insult. I don’t know whether I even meant it. I usually called him a nerd. Big Bro calls it a … slip of some kind, some fancy German name or whatever.

Instead of getting mad, he … sneered. “Shithead.”

And I went. Names I’d heard in the locker room when we changed. Pieces from videos he’d shown me with his teammates messing around. All those deep voices stabbed into my brain like a bullet in a gun barrel.

And I fired as soon as I was loaded, all cylinders. “Fuck face.”

“Dumbbell.”

“Numbnuts.”

“Dumbass.”

“Dickwadd.”

“Nimrod.”

“Bro!”

“Bro!”

“Bro!”

“Bro!”

“Bro!”

“Bro!”

I don’t know how long we kept shouting that word. I just … couldn’t say anything else. Couldn’t think anything else.

Before I knew it, we were wrestling on the floor, crashing into my bed, the desk, the wall. My chest heaved when he finally pinned me. My shirt was in tatters.

“Little bro?” Big Bro’s voice was husky as he breathed in my ear.

“Yeah?” I huffed in turn.

“I win.”

“Yeah, bro.” I breathed hard against the carpet. My chest pushed me off the floor, despite the pressure Big Bro placed on me. “You win.”

“Good meathead.”

I was too tired to care. “Whatever, bro.”

“That’s right. Whatever I say.”

——————————————-

Big Bro said a lot. Not in words, but in actions. And me? I followed. We spend a lot of time in his room now. I like the music now. Big Bro gave me a copy to blast in my room. It annoys the hell out of the other apartments, but we keep it in the hours, so they can’t do shit to us. Been seeing a few more of them at the gym lately.

I shaved my head down to stubble. Just feels better that way. I wear mostly tanks now. And pants, well … pants’re interesting. Let’s just say Big Bro’s not the only big dick around the apartment anymore. Got me some ink on the shoulder. Makes me look more badass.

I step out of my room after another runthrough of the track. My head’s nice and fuzzy, and I’m buzzed, like when I hang out with Big Bro and the team at the bar. I’m still not as big as he is, but I’m stacked, and I’m still growing.

Bro says I should try out for the football team. I don’t really know. I mean, football is…

Football is….

Football is an awesome sport for a meathead jock to play. Meatheads should love football. Meatheads should play football. Meatheads should–

“Bro, you okay?”

I blink. My hands are clasped over my belt buckle. I feel the pressure of my bulge against the crotch of my pants. Bro offered me a jockstrap to hold things in place. Promised me it’d feel better than boxers or briefs.

…

Might have to take him up on that offer.

Big bro’s tank strains against his pecs and traps. His scalp is shaved, like mine. His skin is smooth, like mine. His arms are like pythons, and I find myself wanting that the longer I stare at them. I want those veins. I want those muscles. I want that strength. I want. I want–!

“Fuck, bro. I wanna go to the gym.”

Big Bro chuckles. “What about your meeting with the school councilor?”

“Fuck that shit, bro. I need to work out!”

Big Bro grins at me and fishes a jock strap out from his pocket. The plastic wrap is still on it. I reach for the material, but he pulls it away.

“Ah-ah,” he teases. “First, what are you?”

The buzz is still heavy. The need is still there. And I know what he wants me to say.

What I need to say.

What I should always say.

My eyes are hooded as I respond in a low, dull voice. “A big dumb jock bro. A big dumb jock bro needs a big dumb jock to hold his meat.”

Big Bro grins. “That’s right. Good little bro.” He hands me the jockstrap. “Jock like you shouldn’t be in engineering….”

“I belong in the gym and on the field with my bros.”

Big Bro sneers. “Good little jock bro.”

I nod. The tears stopped a long time ago. A dazed smile pulls at my lips. “Besides, being a jock is fuckin’ cool.”

“Fuck yeah, it is, little bro.”