Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
The bigger your biceps get, the smaller your mind becomes. It was a sacrifice you didn’t think twice about making back when you were a scrawny nerd who would have done anything to get bigger. So, when you were given the opportunity, you gladly agreed to give up small pieces of your intelligence in order to make your muscles grow. You had intelligence to spare, you figured. And you’d know when to stop. All you wanted was just a little bit of muscle, you had told yourself.
But having muscle, getting bigger and bigger every day… Watching the muscle grow and expand right in front of your eyes… You had no idea that it would feel so good. And the more of your intelligence that you gave up, the less you cared about studying and learning and passing your classes in school… It just seemed so much easier to let it all go and just keep getting bigger….
Now you’ve got the biggest biceps of anyone you know… Sure, you can hardly string a proper sentence together any more… But those biceps, bro… It was all worth it, wasn’t it?
Sometimes he likes to make you put back on your glasses. Normally, he likes it when you have to squint to see. He says it makes you look like a total dumbass. After you put on the glasses he tells you to look in the mirror. The glasses are the only thing left of the old you. He wants to see if you can recognize yourself. You never can. After a few minutes you always forget why you're standing in front of the mirror. That's when you begin to flex those big roid muscles of yours. That's his favorite part. He loves seeing how far you've fallen. How much of a big fucking idiot you are now. Don't worry about it though. It would be pretty hard for anyone to recognize you now. Even he can barely see the resemblance anymore. All anyone sees when they look at you now is a big dumb roided muscle bull. But to be honest, I think your a little too enthralled with your arm to be worried about that. As a matter of fact to be worried about anything at all, meathead.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
He went away to college a smart guy, looking to conquer the world. In fact he was already a sophomore with plans for grad school, a job, and success.
Now all that seems to be gone. And Alex, or A as he insists on being called, has different priorities. Working out, dressing in revealing clothes, and telling everyone how dumb and horny he is seems to be all he can do.
And when you ask him what happens all he does is laugh like an idiot and tell you coach helped him train to be a new dude.
The scary thing is, you aren't sure if you keep asking about it because you want to help or because you want to join him.
Tyler stood before a full-length mirror, shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of tight black gym shorts and a black backwards cap. His muscles glistened under the soft glow of the room, his defined six-pack accentuated by the dim lighting. Mark was taken aback by the sight and couldn't help but ask, "Tyler, what on earth are you doing?"
Tyler turned to face him, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Yo bro, can't you see? I'm flexing! Check out these abs! Fuck! These gains are Amazing," he exclaimed, gesturing towards his chiselled six-pack.
Mark furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of the situation. "What's happened to you, Tyler? You've never acted like this before. Is this some kind of prank?"
Tyler smirked, pride evident on his face. "I got this sick cap from the local frat. They said it makes me look badass, but I've always been a bro! Can’t think of a time I haven’t been jacked,” He said proudly, Mark remained confused at the situation. He was about to raise another point but Tyler cut him off.
“Fuck, bro these muscles are sick, I’m so getting laid. No chicks gonna refuse these abs or bi’s," He continued flexing, before rubbing a hand over his smooth hairless cheeks. “And these looks, I’m plowing pussy tonight,”
Mark's heart sank as he tried to process what Tyler was saying. "But Tyler, you're my boyfriend. If this is some sort of prank, you can stop it now,"
Tyler's expression turned serious. "No joke, bro. I'm not gay, not into that shit. I'm as straight as an arrow, and ready to conquer chicks with my bro vibes.”
Mark's heart sank as he absorbed Tyler's words. He tried to find the right words to respond.
"But...but what about us? What about our relationship?"
Tyler looked at his sullen face, emotionless to it. The sad mood was dampening his excitement. A smug grin played across Tyler's face as he looked at Mark. It was a knowing smile that sent shivers down Mark's spine. "Bro, forget the boring stuff. You know what would look dope? If you had a cap too," he said, pulling out another black cap from his bag.
With a swift motion, Tyler slapped a black cap onto Mark's head. As the cap touched his head, it instantly tightened, as if fusing itself to his head. As it snapped tightly into place and spun backward, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. Mark's mind raced with fear and confusion as he felt a strange surge of energy coursing through his body.
"Yo, dude, what's going on? Something's not right here!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief. His speech quickly devolved into typical cocky bro talk.
As Mark stood there, he suddenly felt a chill ripple through his body, causing his spine to tingle. As he glanced down, he couldn't help but notice that he had grown to an impressive 6 feet in height, and his shoulders had broadened, providing him with a sturdier and more defined physique.
He then tensed up, and fell on one knee as muscles erupted and bulged across his entire body. He watched in astonishment as his body grew with muscle. His calves became more defined and his thighs grew thicker and stronger. His abs were a sight to behold, perfectly sculpted and rippling with strength, only to be overshadowed by a pair of large round and perfectly cut pecs. He flexed his arms as his biceps and triceps bulged with raw power. Mark's attention was then drawn to his backside, where two perky globes grew, bouncing with newfound freedom before tightening, rendering his ass unpierceable.
His once sweet and delicate features transformed into a more boyishly masculine appearance. His mouth formed a permanent cocky smile, his nose became more prominent, and his beard vanished, leaving his face clean-shaven. His eyes gained a glint of mischievousness, and his thin brows grew slightly hairier.
He gripped his head, feeling it empty of any intelligence. As soon as his head was emptied though, he felt a build up within, an urge to let out some cocky nature within. Slowly, brocells formed within his mind, creating new interests in working out and sports, video games and partying, and chilling with bros. His identity was completely replaced, even his gay aspects. He no longer saw Tyler as his boyfriend , but his bro. They didn’t suck each other off out of love but a simple need to help each other out, the term no homo protecting them at all times. His attraction to men vanished entirely, a crude and playful attraction to women took over. A strong and lustful desire to fuck and play around with them. All he wanted to do when he was out at a party was to rail some blonde bimbo, with his new thick thrill drill.
His grin growing wider, Mark's name faded away, replaced by a new moniker befitting his transformed self. From that moment on, he would be known as Max, the ultimate gym bro.
Max turned to Tyler, excitement emanating from his newly acquired persona. They fist-bumped, a sign of their newfound camaraderie as bros.
“Fuck bro, this cap is badass” Max exclaimed excitedly
“Told you, bro. Wanna play some cod and eat chips before going out later,”
“Sure thing bro, and with our muscles we’re bound to get laid”
As the night continued, Max reveled in his new existence. He had fully embraced his transformation. Gym sessions, parties, and conquests filled his days and nights. His once graceful and sensitive nature had been replaced by a bold and audacious demeanor, perfectly in line with his newfound identity.
Funny enough. The only "real people" tfs i like from you are the ones with masked men in them. Those images you posted on that other account with thr balaclavas and luchador masks could be cool tf ideas
You'd think a twink like him would wanna be dragged by a twunk like me, I was just gonna make him better! Bigger! Stronger! And an added bonus of sensation! But he needed to be gagged, forever
I kept dragging that little twink all the way down to the elevator. It finally opened after a while. All that twink spit was all over my hand, now it was all warm and slabery. He tried to dash out of the elevator when we got to the parking garage but he wasn't fast enough.
I grabbed him, put him in a choke hold this time. Knocked him clean out. His little twink body sitting on the dirty floor taking up space. It was going to take up even more now.
I go to the storage closet and instantly see that little bickers helmet that was full of musk from all those fags that put there pits in it. I wanted to try it so bad, but there was a twink in that parking garage that definitely needed an upgrade more than me.
The helmet was heavy so the hardest part was getting it all the way over to the garage. The helmet was so musky I thought it might transform me before I got there. But I only showed stage 1 of that musk virus thing . . .
Finally I sat the heavy biker helmet next to the twink. He finally started opening his eyes, and right next to him was the object that would change his life forever. He jolted when he felt the smell. But don't worry, I was there to help him. I grabbed him by his hair and he started moaning and growling at the tug I gave his scalp, but it was for a good cause. I dropped that sweaty helmet right on the twinks head. He resisted so much I thought he might overpower me. His arms squirm around as you hear his suffocating moans coming from inside the helmet. The moaning got loader and loaded, then the resistance died down and the moaning got quiet. The moans became groans, the voice heard inside the helmet was deeper. All of a sudden a growth spurt starts to acquire INFRONT of my eyes. That twinks pecs were bigger than my bed pillows. His abs tower over my puny pecs. His biceps could choke anyone easily. He was a hulking himbo. He didn't even know how to talk that's how dumb he was. Just moaned and grounded as he walked carelessly around the parking garage. His footsteps were so heavy. Every step his pecs giggled. Up and down, you could see the sweat flying from them. He the. Found his bike, and all hey knew what to do was drive. Drive away my little masked mam
And even before leaving, he had to feel his new body, even with how dumb he was. He knew he was a god
Derrick sauntered into his apartment sulkily. He walked right past Max who was enjoying the big game on tv with a few beers.
“Hey broski, wanna beer,” he asked cheerfully. Derrick was far too sad, he took in his words and sauntered on to his room. Max stared in disbelief, Derrick had never been this upset before. He wanted to help but Derrick shut his door before he could speak. Derrick and Max had been roommates and became friends over the years.
Putting his ear to the door Max eavesdropped on his friend. He could hear him talking now on the phone, probably to Sophie, his other friend. Max could hear him talking through the door. Derrick had a bad break up with his boyfriend, and complained about his struggles with guys, talking about why everything was hard for him. He then spoke about Max, not in a bitchy or rude manner, but just talking about how he could pick up girls, and had a decent job where everyone around him was chill.
Max absorbed the words from his friend and roommate and knew that he needed to help him out. His dumb head began thinking, trying to push away the sports, the drinks and the tits that littered around his mind. He thought for a moment until his mind clicked on what to do.
Derrick returned from a tough day at work. He entered his apartment and dropped his bag, turning to see Max smiling at him.
“How was your day, bro” he asked
“It was ok I guess. I need to talk to you Max, I have not been great recently and need…”
“Don’t worry bro, I got you,” Max took out a white box and gave it to Derrick. Derrick took the box and opened it. Inside was a gold chain. He took it out and held it to the light. There was nothing special about the chain, though as the light hit it, it glinted something unique, as if there was more to it. Derrick couldn’t decipher what that was, nor could he understand why Max had given it to him, he never cared for typical gym bro jewelry.
“Thanks…” Derrick replied, trying to sound happy rather than confused.
“Lets get it on you bro, sooner it's on the sooner we can party,” Max jumped in, taking the necklace and putting it on Derrick's neck. Derrick stood confused, why was Max eager to get it on him and help out, and party? Max was a party animal, and any cheap place would do, but Derrick preferred quieter gay bars in more affluent areas.
Suddenly, a warmth surged through his body, emanating from the necklace and spreading rapidly throughout his body. His muscles tightened, expanding with newfound strength and athleticism. His pecs quickly bounced to life as they widened out, bringing his shoulders out too. His stomach stretched and tightened as his core grew stronger, a neat 6 pack etching itself into place.
“Wha… what the fuck is going on?” Derrick asked pained.
”I know right bro, pretty neat, you wait to see the arms and legs,” Max replied
Derrick looked at him with confused and saddened eyes, what had Max done? Before he could ask, his arms felt heavier and they raised themselves into a flex. As he flexed them, his arms grew thick with bulging biceps and his hands became rough and calloused. Derrick could only watch in awe as his body transformed, becoming hunky and muscular.
“Bro you're looking so ripped right now, just got your legs to go and you’ll be lit,” Max continued.
Derrick wanted to speak again, to ask why his friend was enjoying his torment, but as he was about too, he felt his butt cheeks plump up with fat, before tightening. As his ass grew, so did his thighs, which grew thicker with muscle. His feet became larger, supporting his new athletic frame. In his groin he felt a ting of pleasure, engrossing him to touch it. As he did, he felt his average member grow by a few inches.
“Looking good now, bro, let's get you to a mirror so you can check out all your gains,” Max smiled, putting an arm around Derrick happily, before pulling him towards the bathroom. Derricks felt weird lumbering forward with his hulking legs, but weirder he could feel his chin begin to itch. Max pushed open the door to the bathroom and they stumbled in.
“So whaddya think, brah” Max said gleefully. Derrick was shocked in disbelief. He knew he had grown a lot and become absolutely shredded, but seeing himself in the mirror, he was unrecognisable. His chin had grown short black hairs, forming a small douchey beard. As he looked closer at his face, he instantly realised it had become alien to him. The face he had known for his life, the thin, feminine and cute face that his friends adored was no more. Instead, his face resembled something closer to Max’s. His face with the same chiseled shape, a large nose, and a large mouth with pouty lips, wide puppy eyes with thick dark brows, his beautiful quiff now a short and spiky cut like Max’s.
“Wha… What have you done to me!?” Derrick demanded
“Bro? I heard you talking last night about how hard it was for you right now. Talking about me too, and how easy I have it, and then I realized, I do have it easy. It didn’t take long for me to put two and two together to sort out your issue and make it easier for you. Why not make you more like me,” Max explained. Derrick was silent as he processed what he was saying, but his head began to feel fuzzy and thoughts became weaker.
“Soo… you're saying… br… that… you changed me to make life easier for me? Bro” Derrick stuttered, as he found it harder to turn his thoughts into words.
“Yeah bro, and you said how much easier it was for me, and I realized that yeah my life is super chill, so I thought why not make you more like me,” Max said cheerfully. Derrick was taken aback by Max’s chill and happy demeanor, despite the horror, he truly thought he was helping out.
“Well I need you to change me back… Braaaaaahhhhh” Derrick asked, before a headache took over.
“Ah bro its this part, gotta get the cap,” Max said hurriedly, ignoring Derrick's pleas, before pulling a cap out of a drawer. Before Derrick could object, Max plops the cap onto Derrick's head. At first, Derrick feels a tingling sensation, like tiny electrical currents dancing across his scalp. Then, a strange vacuum-like sensation envelops his mind, as if something is being drawn out of him.
“W-Whoa, what's happening, Max? I-I feel weird…”
“It's the ultimate upgrade, bro! This cap's gonna make you as sharp as me!”
Derrick's thoughts become muddled, his once sharp intellect diminishing rapidly. His words start to slur, and he struggles to form coherent sentences.
“M-Max, t-take it off, dude! I-I don't like this…”
“Chill, bro! It's just sucking out your brain juice. You'll thank me later!”
As Derrick's intelligence continues to fade, the cap moves on to its next phase. It starts to extract his interests, pulling them out like threads from a tapestry. Derrick feels a sense of loss as his beloved nerdy passions are stripped away.
“Derrick: N-No, my comics... my video games... Max, s-stop it, please!”
Ignoring Derrick's pleas, Max watches with excitement as the cap completes its task. Suddenly, Derrick's mind floods with images of gym equipment, protein shakes, and workout routines. His body feels energized, and a newfound enthusiasm for fitness surges within him.
"Max! Make it stop! This isn't what I want!"
Max, unable to comprehend the gravity of the situation, simply laughed and reassured him. "Why would you want to stop, bro? You're looking great! Trust me, bro, this is what you need."
Derrick's identity continues to vanish, slowly his name begins to morph, shedding its old identity and adopting a new, bro-centric persona.
“Max… I’m forgetting my name… it’s Derri…”
“Dude, you're not Derrick anymore. You're... (thinks for a moment) ...Danny! Yeah, that's it. Danny the Bro!”
As Max christened the new bro, Danny felt as the feelings of change subside and finish. He was slowly absorbing into his new persona and life, but he knew he had lost something great and Max had taken it.
“Your looking sick brah, I can’t wait to get a pump with you Danny,”
"Dude, pleeshh!" Danny slurred, his words barely recognizable. "Why tho, bro? Stop thish!"
Max, blissfully unaware of the negative consequences of his secret gift, praised Derrick's progress. "Aw man, dude! You're changing so well. You'll have all the chicks after you in no time!"
Danny’s resistance faded, as he looked around the room, he saw dumbbells, sports trophies and Max’s other gym items. They fed into him, into his memories re-writing him into Danny. His eyes wandered to a poster of a blonde bimbo, and suddenly his mind was awash with images, clips and thoughts of similar girls. His cock perked up, standing at full mast in no time, eager to fulfill his new thoughts. The old gay life of Derrick vanished into fog. Danny, the straight bro, who loved to work out with his bro Max, and party, and fuck girls was all that was left now.
“Bro, why the fuck was I trying to go back on this? I look sick now!” Danny exclaimed, lifting up his shirt to reveal his chiseled abs.
“See, I always know how to help bro, Max always knows best. Anyway, there's a party later, and I still got two invites…”
“Say no more bro, I’m down, we’re gonna score a ton of girls tonight,” Danny butted in excitedly. Derrick had never been to a party before, so this made it a new experience for him, but Danny had a new personality that knew exactly what to do. Danny held out his hand to fist bump Max, Max bumped him back smiling. He truly had fixed his friends' problems even if he didn’t know it at first, Danny would have a better time, now that he was more like Max.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
When Tim’s boyfriend jokingly wished to be an OnlyFans star so that he could help pay off their bills for the month, Tim had only laughed and shoved the twink playfully. “Sure, babe. Just as long as I’m in all of your videos.”
Little did they know, I was listening. Two wishes for the price of one are rare, but I was feeling generous that day. If Tim’s boyfriend wanted to be a star and rake in the cash, then I could make it happen. Things just had to change.
Skinny blonde twinks are boring. They’re just a quick web search away. He wanted to be every gay boy’s forbidden desire? So be it. Watch him start to stretch taller, watch his muscles begin to bloat, smell him sweat like a pig.
All Tim can do is look on in fear as before his eyes his sweet boyfriend is quickly replaced by another man. A flash of blue light and then the form of a hulking monster taking over everything that made Tim’s boyfriend… well, his boyfriend.
“Fuck, bro,” is all the new beast cares to say, smelling like the inside of a gym sock and smirking like he’s done something worthwhile. This isn’t Tim’s boyfriend, not anymore. Tim’s boyfriend hadn’t been an OnlyFans star.
“Time for a new video,” the bro says, stomping closer to Tim. That’s when he remembers his own wish, to be in every video with his boyfriend, glancing down to see the thick python straining the stranger’s sweatpants. But then…
It’s not even erect. He looks up into his former boyfriend’s eyes, and the dude isn’t even paying any attention to him. He glances at the room as it changes, weights on the floor and cum stained jock straps hanging off everything.
Posters of chicks with big tits on the walls. A fleshlight with pussy lips lying on the messy bed. He covers his nose, suddenly trapped in the lair of a straight man, forced to watch him stomp closer and closer to his prey.
And then the man walks straight into him, slamming his chest against Tim’s cheek. But to the young gay’s dismay, he finds himself unable to pull away. He lifts his hands to the two beefy pillows, only to watch his fingers sink inside.
He starts screaming, trying to free his body, but it only takes a matter of seconds until the room is silent and the fighting stops. Tim’s perspective changes, feeling heavy and bloated and so warm. Something rubs against him. He can’t speak.
“Oh, shit,” a deep voice rumbles through him, followed by booming laughter. He feels himself start to bounce, up and down until he feels almost sick. “Yeah, you fags love my pecs. Watch ‘em twerk.” Tim tries to cry out, but he can’t. He’s nothing but a money maker for his former boyfriend now.
“Stay subscribed, ass eaters, next week is the fart video y’all freaks keep requesting. Whatever, as long as I get paid! That’s all that matters!”
My mind's a bit rusty after months of not writing this many storyline that racked up quite some length. So, I dumped my entire draft of this story I have on my phone and then asked AI to optimize it
Joshua had been planning this for months. Not in some vague, pathetic daydream way — no, this was calculated, surgical, inevitable. Every night after his dead-end coding gig, he’d sit in his cramped studio apartment, laptop glowing on his scrawny lap, and scroll through Rob Harlan’s socials like a man possessed.
Rob was everything Joshua wasn’t. Six-foot-one of sculpted, vascular perfection. Dark, wavy hair that fell just right over those sharp, arrogant eyes. A jawline carved from marble, broad shoulders tapering into a waist so tight it looked photoshopped, and a chest that jutted out like twin slabs of marble — heavy pecs, deep striations, nipples that always seemed perked from the pump. Then the abs — eight thick, cobblestone ridges that flexed even when Rob was just breathing. And below that…....fuck, the way those white Calvin Klein briefs hugged the heavy, swinging bulge in every mirror selfie. Rob posted them daily: shirtless in the gym bathroom, towel slung low, that cocky half-smirk saying I know you want this.
Rob had the life too. Modeling gigs that paid stupid money, a luxury apartment downtown, and Jess — his fiancée — a stunning brunette who looked at him like he hung the moon. Joshua had seen the stories: them at rooftop parties, her hands all over those abs. Meanwhile, Joshua was invisible. Five-eight, narrow shoulders, soft belly, a dick that barely made a tent in his boxers. Girls never looked twice. Guys like Rob barely registered his existence unless they needed an assistance or forced to interact with their kind. But Joshua knew the truth deep in his bones: that body was wasted on the jacked douchenag. Rob was born with it, took it for granted, used it to cruise through life on autopilot. If Josh owned that physique, he could do so much better....and more. He’d studied the forums, the darknet drops, the countless dark corner of the internet until he landed on the goldmine. A freaking innovative breakthrough by some rogue Montenegrin scientist working as a double-agent for MI6 and SVR developing a nanite skinsuit system — irreversible, perfect, living flesh turned into a custom-fitted garment. One dose injected and the target’s body became yours. The original mind? Trapped in the lining forever, screaming aimlessly, while the one wearing the skin gained everything and infiltrated so deep, no technological scan could catch the difference. The scientist worn a German diplomat facade for the past 2 years with no side effects whatsoever and the chat turned into a transaction with the scientist asking for an update upon the success of the nanite.
He’d been laying the groundwork at Apex Fitness for weeks. Joshua worked the evening supplement desk — a part-time gig that let him watch Rob train six nights a week. At first, Rob barely noticed the skinny guy behind the counter. But Joshua played it smart: compliments on form, free samples of legal pre-workouts, little tips that actually helped.
“Bro, your lats are looking insane this week,” he’d say, eyes wide with fake awe.
Rob ate it up. Jocks like him loved worship, especially from harmless nerds who made them feel even bigger. They’d chat between sets. Rob started calling him “Josh” instead of “hey dude.” Built just enough trust. All that led to tonight
The gym is nearly empty at 10:45 PM — just the die-hards and Rob, who always trained late to avoid the crowds. Joshua had watched Rob crush a brutal chest-and-back session: benching 315 like it was warm-up, pull-ups with perfect form, veins popping across those boulder shoulders. Rob’s tank is soaked dark with sweat, clinging to every ridge of his torso. He finished with a final set of cable flies, grunting deep as his pecs ballooned, then racked the weights and headed for the locker room.
Joshua followed, heart hammering but face calm. He grabbed a shaker from behind the desk — one he’d prepped hours ago. The nanite pill is already dissolved into a clear, tasteless liquid mixed with Rob’s favorite unflavored protein. No color, no smell, no trace. Joshua had tested the formula on some lab rats. A very miniscule drop to adjust to its size and it worked. Perfectly. Horny and supercharged rat that seemingly has all the stamina in the world before it crashes down and turned into a lifeless sack
As Rob is stripping down at his locker, back to Joshua, those wide lats flared like wings, traps thick enough to shrug off a truck. The Calvin briefs rides low, exposing the top of his crack and the powerful glutes beneath. Joshua’s mouth gets dry.
“Hey Rob,” he called casually, stepping closer with the shaker. “Saw you crushing it tonight, man. New PR on incline?”
Rob turned, flashing that signature smirk. Sweat glistened on his chest, dripping down the deep centerline between his abs.
“Yeah, bro. Felt fucking unstoppable. What’s up?”
Joshua held out the shaker like it's nothing.
“Got a new sponsor sample in today — exclusive pre-workout/recovery hybrid. Supposed to be next-gen. Nanite tech or some shit, boosts protein synthesis like crazy. I’ve been using it and… well, you can see I’m still me,” he laughed self-deprecatingly, patting his soft belly. “But the big guys swear by it. Figured you’d want first dibs. On the house.”
Rob’s eyes lit up. Supplement junkie to the core.
“No shit? Hell yeah, man. Appreciate it.” He takes the shaker without hesitation, give it a quick shake, and chugged half in one go. Adam’s apple bobbing, throat working. A drop runs down his chin onto his pec. “Tastes clean. Thanks, Josh. You’re alright.”
Joshua smiled, insides twisting with dark glee. You have no idea, you arrogant prick. Drink up. That body’s about to have a new owner, Joshua thought.
Rob chugged the rest, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and headed for the showers. Then, it's time to wait. The locker room is practically dead so Joshua can just patiently lingered there to bid time. The sounds of water running echoed. Then… followed by grunt, and at last, a rather loud curse.
“What the fu—”
Joshua’s pulse raced. He quickly gathered some towel to pretend to restock fresh and dry-cleaned towel for public use. Then, instead, he cracked the door to the stall where Rob showered just enough.
Inside the stall, Rob is clutching the wall, water cascading over his massive frame. His skin is already loosening — glossy, pliable, separating from the muscle beneath like a high-end latex suit. His powerful arms hung limp as the nanites rewrites every cell. Pecs sagged slightly, then smoothed into perfect wearable contours. The thick cock Joshua had fantasized about flattened against the torso, becoming part of the empty sheath. Rob’s handsome face — that jaw, those lips — goes slack, eyes glazing over as his consciousness pulled inward. By the time the water runs cold, Rob Harlan is gone.
Hanging from the hook where his towel had been is the perfect bodysuit: warm, supple, 225 pounds of living muscle and skin. Hair intact. Earring in place. The face stared blankly, mouth slightly parted. Joshua stepped inside the stall, locked it, and stripped naked. His own pathetic body looked laughable next to it.
“Finally,” he breathed, voice shaking. He lifted the suit — heavy, dense, still faintly warm and pulsing. The inside is slick, inviting, smelling of Rob’s sweat and cologne. Joshua started with the legs. Feet sliding into size-12 feet, calves filling out, thighs thickening into tree trunks. When it sealed at his groin, his average cock pushed into the suit’s generous sheath. Instant heat. Girth. Weight. It hardened to a full, veiny eight inches that throbbed against the empty fabric.
“Oh fuck… yes…”
He worked the torso up next. Soft belly compressed, then Rob’s abs snapped into place over him — deep cuts, perfect symmetry. Pecs ballooned outward, heavy and striated. Shoulders widened. Arms filled with vascular power that make him gasp. Finally, the head. He pulled the face over his own like a hood. Darkness. Then the propped dark phone screen on the side counter showed Rob staring back — every detail flawless. He instantly opened the stall door to witness his own dripping glory
Joshua flexed. Biceps peaked massively. He turned, checking the rear view: wide lats, bubble ass, hamstrings carved like steel cables. He cupped the heavy pecs, thumbs circling the sensitive nipples, and moaned in Rob’s deep, resonant voice.
“This… this is mine now. You wasted it, Rob. Partying, fucking, posting selfies like a brainless god. I’m going to use it. I’m going to take this body to heights you never dreamed of.”
He excitedly leap out from the shower without covering his body whatsoever. He just dried his hair with the towel and strut his way back to the locker room area butt-naked, his cock dangling freely and his face twisted with a knowing cocky smirk as if wishing someone walked in on him. Unlucky him, no one walked through the door in the minutes he wait so he just chuckled and then dressed in Rob’s clothes — Lulu riding low, dark sweats paired with some sikkunt tight compression shirt — and left the gym as Rob Harlan. No one noticed a thing.
---
Jess is already waiting when he gets to the apartment. She wears one of Rob’s oversized tees, nothing underneath, hair tousled like she’d been napping.
“Babe, you were gone forever. Everything okay?”
Joshua-as-Rob grinned, the suit’s muscles moving seamlessly with every thought.
“Yes babe, everything's freaking okay. Missed you though,” He pulled her in, kissing her hard, tongue claiming her mouth. His new hands — big, strong, calloused — roamed under the shirt, gripping her ass, lifting her effortlessly onto the kitchen counter. Jess gasped, legs wrapping around his waist.
They don't make it to the bedroom. Clothes just comes off in a frenzy. Joshua shoved the briefs down, and Rob’s cock spring free — thick, veined, leaking. He rubbed it against her, teasing.
“You want this?” he growled in Rob’s voice, it sounded predatory with a hint of playfulness, total alpha
“Yes, Rob… please…” she whimpered, eyes already glazed
The first time she screamed his name — Rob! — it hit Joshua like lightning. Pure dominance. Lust surged through the suit, cock throbbing harder. He slammed in deep, stretching her, bottoming out with every powerful thrust. Her nails raked down his back as he pounded her, pecs flexing, abs contracting against her stomach.
“ROB! OH GODD NGHHHHHHHHH MMMPPPPHHHH!” Every cry made him wilder. He flipped her over, bent her across the counter, and railed her from behind, one hand fisting her hair, the other slapping her ass. Sweat poured off the suit’s torso, dripping onto her back. He reached around, his thick cock working her clit while he pounded deeper, faster and more merciless than ever like a beast possessed.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he snarled, voice raw. “Scream my name again, bitch!"
“UNGHHH NMMPPPNNPPHHH R---ROBB! MMMPPPP BABY....ROBB I'M UNGHHHH SO CL-----AAAHHHHH!!!" She comes hard, clenching around him. Joshua just simply lost it listening to her moan as he roared using Rob's powerful baritone, burying himself to the hilt and flooding her with thick ropes of cum. But he's far from over as clearly the nanites are doing something to his metabolism
Jess is still catching her breath, legs trembling, when Rob just stands over her like a conqueror. The nanite bodysuit thrummed with raw power, every muscle pumped and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Rob’s thick cock, heavy and veined, bobbed angrily in front of her face, still slick from her earlier orgasms. He smirked down at his fiancée’s flushed, beautiful face, her perky tits heaving with each ragged breath.
“Look at you,” he growled in that deep, commanding voice that wasn’t truly Rob’s anymore. “Already such a messy little fit slut for me. Spread those legs wider, baby. I’m not done using this body on you.”
Jess whimpered, eyes glassy with lust trying to suck on Rob's cock but his hand stopped her as she obeyed his order, parting her toned thighs while Rob goes back to his earlier position. Rob simply pulled her to be closer to him, less body part laying on the marble countertop as he then goes between them spread legs, big hands immediately latching onto her full, firm breasts. He kneaded them roughly, fingers sinking deep into the soft flesh, thumbs rolling over her stiff nipples until she arched off the couch with a needy cry. The nanites make every touch electric — heightening sensitivity in the suit’s skin so that even the feel of her warm tits in his palms sent jolts straight to his throbbing cock.
“Fuck, these tits… always so perfect,” he taunted, leaning down to latch his mouth onto one nipple. He sucked hard, teeth grazing, then switched to the other, pecking and biting possessive marks across her cleavage.
“You work so hard in the gym to keep this body tight for me. But we both know what you really are — my personal cock-hungry slut who gets wet just seeing me flex.”
Jess moaned louder, hands threading into his dark wavy hair.
“Rob… mmmmmhhhh.....please…”
He chuckled darkly against her skin, then rose up, straddling her chest. His massive cock slapped heavily between her breasts. Rob gripped them firmly, pushing the soft mounds together around his thick shaft, and started sliding. The nanite-enhanced dick was slick with her juices, gliding smoothly through the warm, pillowy valley. Every thrust made her tits jiggle obscenely, the fat head bumping against her chin and lips.
“Mmm, that’s it. Titfuck your man like the eager little whore you are,” he groaned, hips rocking faster. The sensation was incredible — the suit’s heightened nerves turning the friction into pure bliss. Pre-cum leaked steadily, smearing across her chest and neck. Jess opened her mouth instinctively, tongue flicking out to taste him on every upward stroke.
But Rob wanted more. He simply pulled her body and gently lowered her to the floor as he then grabs a fistful of her hair and guiding the swollen head past her lips.
“Open wide, slut.”
Jess whimpered — an obscene, high-pitched sound that went straight to his balls — as he pushed deeper. He doesn't ease in gently. He feeds her every thick inch until her throat bulged visibly, her eyes watering. Rob holds her there, her head unable to move anywhere except forward, choking her on his cock, feeling her throat convulse and squeeze around him.
“Fuuuck yes… take it all, Jess. Gag on the dick that owns you.” He pulled back just enough for her to gasp a desperate breath, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his shaft, before slamming back in. Obscene wet glucking sounds filled the apartment as he face-fucked her with powerful, dominant strokes.
“You love this, don’t you? Being used like a fleshlight by your big, strong fiancé. Bet you tell all your gym friends how good I fuck you… but they have no idea how deep I really go.”
Jess’s whimpers turned into desperate, muffled moans around his cock. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but her hips bucked uselessly beneath him, pussy dripping onto the floor. The nanites really make Rob’s stamina endless — he could throat-fuck her for hours if he wanted to. He watches her tits bounce with every thrust, her throat stretching obscenely, and feels this pure dark triumph.
After several minutes of relentless choking, he pulled out with a wet pop, leaving her coughing and gasping, chin and chest covered in spit and pre-cum.
“Good girl. Now stand up and turn the fuck over.”
He flipped her effortlessly, the suit’s strength making her feel like a lightweight doll. Jess’s perfect ass arched up a bit, pussy glistening and puffy. Rob slapped her ass hard, watching the cheek ripple, then lined up and drove in balls-deep in one brutal thrust.
“That’s right. Scream my name while I breed this tight cunt.” Rob gripped her hips and started pounding — hard, deep, animalistic strokes that made the sound of skin slapping skin echo loudly. The nanites amplified everything: the way her walls clenched around his thick shaft, the heat, the slick wetness. He reached around and rubbed her clit furiously while railing her, feeling her squirt around him on the third powerful orgasm.
“You’re such a fucking mess,” he laughed cruelly, never slowing. “Squirting all over my cock like a cheap porn star. This is what you were made for — getting destroyed by superior dick.”
Jess could barely form words, just broken whimpers and cries of “Rob! Rob— oh god, Rob!” Each time she screamed it, the stolen consciousness inside the suit thrilled with twisted lust. Joshua is in heaven, using this perfect body to ruin the girl who once belonged to someone else.
Rob feels his own climax building — a massive, nanite-fueled load churning in his heavy balls. He slammed in harder, hips blurring, then buried himself to the hilt once more with a guttural roar that sounded even more hungrier than the first pound. Thick, hot ropes of cum erupted deep inside her, flooding her pussy in powerful spurts. He keeps thrusting through it, pumping every drop as far as possible, until excess cum squirted out around his shaft with every movement.
But he's really one insatible monster as he's up into his next act.
Rob pulled out slowly, watching the creamy mixture of his thick load and her squirt leak from her ruined hole. Then he dives in face-first.
His tongue attacked her dripping pussy first, lapping greedily at the filthy cocktail — salty-sweet squirt mixed with his own potent cum. He moaned into her folds like a man starved, sucking and swallowing noisily. Jess shuddered and whimpered, oversensitive but pushing back against his mouth.
“Rob… ngghhhh fuck… that’s.....so dirty…”
“You love it,” he mumbled against her skin, before dragging his tongue higher. He spread her ass cheeks wide and zeroed in on her tight little hole, rimming her with long, wet strokes. His tongue pushed inside, tasting her while more of his cum continued to drip down. He eats her ass with filthy enthusiasm — loud, sloppy sounds filling the room as he devoured her, fingers plunging back into her cum-filled pussy at the same time.
Jess squirted again hard, screaming silently as her body shaking violently and eyes rolled backward like she's a ruined sex doll. Rob keeps on licking and fingering through her orgasm, cleaning every drop of their combined mess like a hungry dominant predator.
When he finally pulled back, lips shiny and chin dripping, he flipped her over once more and kissed her deeply — forcing her to taste the filthy mixture on his tongue. Jess moaned into the kiss, utterly broken and addicted.
Rob pulled back just enough to stare into her eyes, cock still rock-hard and pressed against her thigh.
“This body… it’s going to ruin you every single night from now on,” he promised darkly. “You’re mine to use however I want. My perfect little fit slut.”
Jess could only nod weakly, whispering, “Yes, Rob… anything…”
---
The gym lights buzzed low at 6:30 AM, Apex Fitness still mostly empty except for the real die-hards. Rob Harlan strutted into the weight room like he owned the place. And today, he fucking did. The suit feels alive, humming with stolen strength and amplified chemistry as if it didn't just spend the night until 2.30 AM breaking down the blonde bimbo until she practically passed out to this very hour. That's clearly not the case for Rob. Every capillary, every muscle fiber, every sweat gland worked overtime and feels well-recharged despite the short break. Rob’s dark wavy hair is already damp, sharp jaw set in that signature cocky smirk as he racked up plates for the first warm-up.
“Chest day, baby,” he muttered to himself, voice low and resonant. “Time to show this body what its deserving owner can do.”
Nate is also already there, stretching in his usual spot near the benches. Athletic, straight-as-an-arrow gym bro — broad shoulders, thick arms, decent six-pack under his tank, but nothing compared to the god standing next to him now.
“Yo, Harlan. You’re early. And looking… fuck, even bigger than yesterday. Something new in the cycle?”
Rob grinned, peeling off his hoodie to reveal the full glory of his body: heavy, striated pecs already pumped from the walk over, deep cleavage glistening, nipples hard from the cool air.
“You have no idea, bro. Watch and learn.”
He started with flat barbell bench. 225 for warm-ups — easy. But the nanites doesn't stop a “easy.” They crank everything. Rob loaded 315 like it's nothing, lay back, and unracked. The bar descended slowly, controlled, kissing his pecs before exploding upward. Rep after rep. Ten. Twelve. Fifteen. His chest ballooned obscenely with each press — upper pecs shelfing out thick and square, lower pecs sweeping wide and full. Sweat poured immediately, soaking the tank, turning it transparent. The musky scent of pure alpha male — Rob’s original pheromones mixed with Joshua’s twisted arousal — filled the air around the bench like a cloud.
“Fuuuuck yeah,” Rob growled on the last rep, racking the bar with a clang. His pecs throbbed visibly, veins snaking across the massive slabs like rivers on a map. He sits up, bouncing them casually, watching them dance in the mirror. Pathetic normies will be crying after two sets of this. But me? I can do this all fucking day, he thought to himself.
Nate stared a little too long, throat working. “Jesus, Rob…”
“Spot me on the next one,” Rob commanded, already adding more plates. 365 now. He dropped into position, arching his back, feet planted. Nate moved behind the bench, hands hovering near the bar.
The set is indeed brutal. Rob powered through rep after rep, chest burning with glorious fire that the nanites simply ignored. By rep eight his pecs are engorged, red, pumped to the absolute limit — each fiber screaming yet obeying. Sweat cascaded down the deep centerline between his abs, pooling in the valleys of his obliques. The musk grows thicker, heady, masculine — balls sweating heavily in his loose shorts, the scent rolling off him in waves every time he pressed. When he's done, he roared with triumphant delights, his body pumped to the max and his nipple looking extra hard through the sweaty destroyed tank that Rob simply discarded as he then grinned
"You next, bro. I'll spot ya, try to keep up LOL,"
Rob spotted Nate’s working sets, standing directly over his head. Every time Nate pressed, Rob’s sweaty balls hung right above his face — brushing his forehead on the harder reps, dripping fresh sweat onto his lips.
“Come on, princess. Push that weight like a man,” Rob taunted, grinding his hips forward just enough for the sack to drag across Nate’s skin. “Or are you too distracted by real alpha scent?”
Nate’s hands brushed the bar, but his eyes were locked on those musky, hairy balls swaying just inches from his nose. The smell is overwhelming — pure concentrated Rob: salty, pungent, powerful. Despite being totally straight, Nate feels his cock twitch traitorously in his shorts, chubbing up against his will. He tried to focus on the bar, but every exhale from Rob washed more of that alpha scent over him. His straight gym-bro brain short-circuited. What the fuck is wrong with me? It’s just Rob… but fuck, he smells like pure sex. Nate whimpered under his breath — a tiny, broken sound — but powered through, cock throbbing painfully.
The homophobic edge in Rob’s merged mind made it hotter: Straight boys shouldn’t get hard for this. But you are. Because this body is superior and you wish you have the strength the fraction of this
The rest of the session is pure domination. Rob powered through flyes, crossovers, and dips like a machine — chest exploding with size and vascularity that defied biology. Every set ended with him teasing Nate: balls in his face during spots, musky armpits shoved near his nose, cocky taunts laced with the merged homophobia and raw lust. Nate ended the session a physical and psychological mess. He's soaked in a mixture of his sweat and Rob’s ballsweat, cock aching, mind reeling from the headiness of it all. His friend seemingly supercharged himself and exploded with PR and strengths he never saw him before, and it fucks him mentally. Not to mention, how on Earth he views Rob as anything more than a gym buddy, the way Rob's scent somehow allured him today messed up Nate's own perception of self.
Rob slapped Nate’s ass hard as they enter the locker room
"You look like you've been drained by a soul-sucking ghost. That set destroyed you?"
"Bro, that is a brutal set. I don't know what the fuck you take, but it must be something so fucked up with insane side effects,"
"Well, you can always come over to my spot and see what's up,"
"Yeah, fuck.....let me think about it. But seriously, you are sure it's very safe?"
"That nerd Joshua gave it to me yesterday. Some new-gen shit he said, sponsored stuff for the gym. I have like.....a couple others pack at my apartment if you wanna take a peek,"
"Well, if that four-eyes said it's legit, then it's legit I guess. Okay then, will text you further,"
"Sweet," the nanites hummed happily inside the perfect suit. Joshua smiled with stolen lips. Soon you’ll be perfect too.
---
Rob leaves the gym with a towel slung over one massive shoulder, chest still swollen from the brutal session, tank top plastered to his torso like a second skin. The nanites keeps the pump alive — pecs jutting out proudly, veins crawling across every inch of exposed muscle. As he entered the Jeep, the real Rob’s memories supplied the playlist instantly. As soon as the engine roared to life, Rob cranked the volume and blasted some Don Toliver and Giveon on the Jeep's tune. He nodded his head hard to the beat, one hand on the wheel, the other casually palming his thick bulge through his shorts as he pulled into traffic.
“Fuck yeah,” he laughed, voice deep and arrogant. “This is how a god rolls.” Joshua inside the suit reveled in it — the way the engine vibrated through the powerful thighs, the way every stoplight turned heads. Girls in the next lane stared openly. He flexed his right arm out the window just to watch their jaws drop, then speed off laughing.
He drives with the windows down, wind whipping through his dark wavy hair, singing along obnoxiously loud to the explicit lyrics. Every red light became an opportunity to check himself in the mirror — bouncing his pecs, flashing that signature half-smirk. The nanites make the entire skin feel like a high-performance machine: endless energy, zero fatigue, constant low-level horniness thrumming under his skin.
First stop: the diner spot Rob always hit after chest day. Rob strutted in like he owned the place, ordering big — six eggs, double steak, rice, avocado, the works. He demolished it at a corner table, eating like a champ, fork scraping the plate clean while scrolling through the exploding likes on his latest gym selfie. 45k now. He smirked and take another quick pic right there in the booth — tank pulled up to show the glistening abs, caption: Chest day never ends when you’re built different.
A couple of gym rats recognized him on the way out. “Yo, Harlan! That pump is insane, man!”
Rob grinned, stopping to chat. He flexed a double bicep for them, veins popping. “Gotta feed the beast. You boys hitting PRs yet?” The two guys — clearly fans — stammered compliments. Rob ate it up, casually throwing in teasing banter. “Keep grinding and maybe one day you’ll look half as good as this.” He bounced his pecs once for emphasis, laughed at their flustered reactions, then clapped them on the shoulders hard enough to make them wince before strutting out.
Downtown is next. Rob parked the Jeep and began his cocky parade along the busy sidewalks. He moved with perfect swagger — broad shoulders rolling, lats flared, ass filling out the shorts like it's carved marble. Heads turned everywhere. Women bite their lips. A few guys did double-takes. Rob loved every second of it.
But the real fun starts when he wandered into a high-end department store — the kind Rob used to shoplift small shit from back in the day, but now he didn’t even need to hide it. He headed straight for the NPC-brand athletic section, grabbing a stack of tight compression shirts in his size (or what used to be his size).
In the fitting room he stripped off the tank, revealing the glistening, musky masterpiece underneath. He tried on the first shirt — black, skin-tight. It stretched obscenely across his pumped chest, the fabric screaming as his pecs and delts filled every inch. The sleeves dug into his massive arms. He flexed hard and riiiip — a seam split right over his left bicep.
“Oops,” he laughed, not sorry at all. He tried three more. Each one suffered the same fate — stretched to the limit, fabric distorted over his god-tier physique, some tearing at the shoulders or across the chest. He left them all crumpled on the floor like trash.
The cute store assistant — a fit twenty-something guy named Tyler with a name tag — knocked politely.
“Everything okay in there, sir?”
Rob opened the door wearing only the torn black shirt and his shorts, cock already half-hard from the power rush.
“Nah, these are all too small. But you look like you could help me with something else.”
Before Tyler can respond, Rob grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him inside, locking the door. He shoved the assistant to his knees right there among the discarded, stretched-out shirts.
“Worship me, boy.”
Tyler’s eyes goes wide at the sight of the thick bulge, but the aura of Rob Harlan make him obey. He mouthed Rob’s cock through the shorts, then pulled them down. The heavy 8-incher slapped him in the face. Rob gripped his hair and feed it to him — deep, rough, using his throat like a fleshlight while taunting him.
“That’s it. Suck the dick that stretches shirts like they’re made of tissue. You’ve probably jerked off to my posts, haven’t you?” Tyler moaned around the shaft, gagging happily. Rob face-fucked him mercilessly, balls slapping his chin, until he unloaded the first thick load straight down his throat.
They are still intensely going — Rob bending Tyler over the bench, shorts around his ankles, pounding his tight ass — when the store manager, a sharp-dressed woman in her thirties, unlocked the door with her master key after her repeated knock upon listening to the lewd gluck-gluck-gluck and suppressed moan went unanswered. When the door swings open, she almost screamed
“What the—?!”
Rob doesn't even stop thrusting. He looked over his shoulder with a cocky, sweat-drenched grin, still balls-deep in the moaning assistant.
“Hey. These shirts don’t fit. I’ll take all of them anyway. Put it on my tab… or better yet — come here.”
The manager froze for half a second, then the sheer dominance of the situation and Rob’s aura did the rest. She stepped inside, locking the door behind her. Rob pulled out of Tyler, still rock-hard and dripping, and gestured at the bench.
“Both of you. On your knees.”
What followed is simply pure filthy dominance. He has the manager sucking him while Tyler rimmed her from behind. Then he switched, fucking the manager’s tight pussy raw while making her eat Tyler’s ass. The fitting room filled with wet sounds, moans, and Rob’s cocky taunts.
“You’re both lucky I even let you touch this body. Consider the shirts your tip.” He came again — this time painting both their faces and the torn shirts with rope after rope of thick cum.
When he's done, Rob casually pulled his shorts back up, left the destroyed clothes and two thoroughly used employees on the floor, and strolled out of the store without paying a cent. No one stopped him. No alarms. No consequences.
Just another Tuesday for Rob Harlan.
He climbed back into the Jeep, still smelling of sex and sweat, cranked the music again — this time some classic Yeat and headed home, cock already stirring
---
Back at the apartment, the door barely clicked shut before Rob stripped everything off. The sweat-soaked tank, the gym shorts, the white Calvins that barely contained his heavy package — all discarded in a heap. He stands naked in front of the full-length bathroom mirror, the same one from a dozen of Rob’s old selfies, and let the cool air kiss his overheated, musky skin.
“Fuck… look at you,” he growled to his reflection, voice thick with lust. The bodysuit gleamed under the low lights — 225 pounds of pure, vascular perfection. Heavy pecs still pumped from chest day, deep striations glistening with dried sweat. Cobblestone abs flexing with every breath. Thick, veined 8-inch cock already rock-hard and leaking, curving upward aggressively. Low-hanging balls churning with nanite-fueled seed.
Rob just stand there in front of the mirror, quads looking jacked and cock already raging. One hand lazily stroked his shaft while the other roamed his torso, squeezing a thick pec, pinching a sensitive nipple. The nanites make every touch feel like fire and velvet at once.
He grabbed his phone — Rob’s phone — and opened Instagram. The latest shirtless mirror selfie from this morning is already blowing up. Posted right after the brutal gym session, abs flexed, sweat dripping down the centerline, that signature half-smirk on his stolen face. The likes counter ticked upward in real time: 33k… 45k… 75k in under four hours. Comments flooded in — thirsty girls calling him “daddy,” gym bros begging for routine advice, even a few subtle thirst traps from guys who probably jerked off to it in secret.
“Pathetic,” Rob chuckled darkly, thumb scrolling. “All these losers worshipping a body that doesn’t even belong to the original owner anymore. One selfie and the whole fucking world wants to suck my dick. And they have no idea it’s a skinny IT nerd piloting this meat puppet.”
The memory of Jess flashed through his mind. Last night — how effortlessly he’d dominated her. How he’d kneaded those perfect tits, slid his fat cock between them, choked her throat until she gagged and whimpered like a broken slut. How he’d railed her in doggy, pumped her full of load after load, then eaten his own cum out of her squirt-soaked pussy and ass while she screamed “Rob!” over and over. Every time she said his name it had driven the suit wild. Pure ownership. Pure power.
“Yeah… that’s right, baby,” he murmured, stroking faster. “I took your man’s body and fucked you better than he ever could. You’re my fit little cumdump now. Begging for this stolen cock every night.”
His hand twisted around the swollen head, spreading thick pre-cum down the shaft. The real Rob’s memories flooded in — that arrogant, straight, homophobic jock psyche clashing deliciously with Joshua’s twisted hunger. The merger created something filthy and perfect.
Nate appeared in his mind next. This morning’s chest session. How he’d hung his sweaty, musky ballsack right over the straight gym bro’s face during every heavy bench rep. How Nate’s cock had chubbed up helplessly, tenting his shorts despite all the “no homo” bullshit he usually spouted. Rob had twisted that original homophobia into pure perverse lust — taunting the pliable jock, grinding his scent into him, turning straight-boy resistance into leaking, whimpering submission.
“Fucking Nate,” Rob groaned, eyes half-lidded. “Smelling my alpha balls made your worthless dick leak like a bitch. You’re not ready to get fucked yet… but soon. I’m gonna perfect that body. Give it to Donnie so I can rail my old gym buddy’s hole while he wears your skin. Turn your homophobic ass into my personal cocksleeve.”
The thought sent a shudder through the entire suit. Rob’s stroking grew sloppy, desperate. His jaw slackened, mouth hanging open as drool began to drip from the corner of his lips. It ran down his chin in shiny strands, falling onto his pumping fist and slickening his 8-inch cock even more. The wet schlick-schlick sounds filled the room.
“Unngh… fuck…” His eyes rolled to the front, heavy lids fluttering as his face looking extra stupid. Moans grew louder, deeper, turning into guttural, animalistic sounds that vibrated through the thick pecs. “This body… nothing but a cum puppet… a big, musky tank for a nerd to goon in…”
He squeezed his heavy pec with his free hand, milked another thick rope of pre from his cock, and keep pumping. Drool poured freely now, coating his shaft, dripping onto his balls. The mirror reflected pure degeneracy: the perfect muscle god reduced to a slack-jawed, eye-rolled goon monster, hips bucking upward into his fist.
“Rob Harlan… you stupid fucking jock… wasted this body on pussy and ego,” he panted between moans. “Now it’s mine. Every vein. Every drop of sweat. Every load. I’m gonna use you to fuck everyone — Jess, Nate, whoever the fuck I want. You’re just the skinsuit. I’m the one in control.”
His balls tightened. The nanites surged, amplifying the orgasm to inhuman levels. Rob’s moans turned into broken, loud cries — jaw completely slack, tongue lolling, drool stringing down to his abs. Eyes rolled so far back only the whites showed.
The first burst erupted like a geyser.
Thick, ropey cum shot straight upward, splattering the ceiling with a loud wet smack before raining back down across the mirror. Another powerful spurt followed, painting the glass in heavy white streaks that dripped down over his reflected abs. Then another, and another — endless nanite-powered jets that covered his own chest, face, and the mirror in sticky, pungent seed. The orgasm stretched on for nearly a minute, his cock pulsing violently in his drool-slicked fist, body convulsing in the chair.
When it finally subsided, Rob simply retired to his leather couch leaking there dumbly, chest heaving, covered in his own massive load. A slow, stupid chuckle bubbled up from deep in his throat.
“Yes, Rob Harlan… you are one fucking perfect goon monster.”
He stared at the pristine mirror and then spprrttt — the full-length mirror in the living room also ruined — cum dripping everywhere, the reflection of a debauched muscle god smiling back with Joshua’s dark satisfaction burning behind the eyes. He scooped a thick glob of his own seed off his pec and licked it slowly, savoring the taste.
“More,” he whispered hoarsely, cock already twitching back to life. “This suit’s got plenty more loads to give. And I’m just getting started breaking in the rest of the world with it.”
The nanites hummed contentedly inside the perfect, stolen skin. The nerd inside never feel more powerful.
---
The nanites never slept.
Even after the marathon gooning session — ceiling and mirror still streaked with thick ropes of cum — they hummed quietly beneath Rob’s skin, rewriting, optimizing, pushing. Joshua can feel them like a second nervous system: warm, insistent, always whispering in the language of pure dominance and pleasure. They are not just holding the suit together. They are steering it.
Rob stands in front of the cum-splattered mirror, chest heaving, cock still half-hard and twitching despite the massive load he’d just painted the room with. A slow, lazy grin spread across his stolen face. “Again,” he muttered. The nanites answered instantly — a warm surge through his balls, flooding them with fresh seed. His 8-inch cock thickened and rose again in under thirty seconds, veins pulsing angrily. No refractory period. No exhaustion. Just endless, greedy hunger.
He laughed, low and dark. “You little fuckers really turned me into a goon machine.”
---
It started subtle, back in the first hours after the takeover. The nanites had flooded Rob’s bloodstream with synthetic testosterone and dopamine analogs. Every flex felt better than the last orgasm he’d ever had. Every stride down the street made his quads and glutes feel powerful enough to crush pavement. And every glance from strangers triggered a reward spike straight to the pleasure center of his brain.
That’s why he’d driven around downtown blasting music and strutting like a king. The nanites craved exposure. They wanted the suit seen, worshipped, used. They amplified the real Rob’s natural cockiness by a factor of ten and mixed it with Joshua’s long-repressed hunger for control. The result was pure arrogance without brakes.
When he’d torn those shirts in the fitting room, the nanites had surged with approval. Fabric ripping across his exploding pecs sent electric pleasure down his spine. Dominating the store assistant and then the manager wasn’t just fun — it was programmed. The nanites rewarded risk. They rewarded conquest. By the time he came on both their faces, a fresh wave of nanites had already repaired any micro-tears in his muscle fibers and topped off his energy reserves. He walked out of the store harder and hornier than when he went in.
Back at the apartment that evening and after a stealthy last minute clean-up, Jess arrived back at the apartment after her marketing work followed by her evening yoga class. The nanites sensed her before Rob even sees her — a spike in pheromones, heart rate climbing, cock leaking steadily into his shorts.
“Hey babe—” she started, but Rob is already on her.
He doesn't ask. The nanites simply doesn't let him. They cranked his dominance to maximum. He pinned her against the wall, big hand around her throat just tight enough to make her whimper, and kissed her like he is trying to claim her soul. His other hand yanked her leggings down roughly. Two thick fingers plunged into her already-wet pussy while his thumb circled her clit with machine-like precision.
“Missed this tight little cunt,” he growled, voice deeper than Rob’s had ever been. The nanites make his fingers vibrate slightly — a new trick they’d learned — drawing obscene, wet sounds from her as she comes on his hand in under a minute.
Then, Rob throws her over the back of the couch he christened with his cum earlier today, ass up, and drive into her in one brutal thrust. The nanites amplified every sensation: the velvet heat of her walls, the way she clenched and fluttered, the slap of his heavy balls against her clit. He fucked her like a machine — long, punishing strokes that bottomed out every time, hips snapping with perfect, tireless rhythm.
“Fuck— Rob— too deep—!” Jess sobbed in pleasure.
The nanites loved that. They rewarded him with a fresh surge of pleasure every time she screamed his name. His thrusts grow harder, faster. He reached around and rubbed her clit until she squirted violently down her own thighs. Still he keeps on going, pounding through her orgasm, chasing the next one.
When he finally comes, it's volcanic — thick, endless ropes flooding her so full that it gushed out around his cock with every thrust. The nanites keeps him hard even after. He pulled out, spun her around, and make her clean him with her mouth while he stroked her hair almost tenderly.
“Good little fit slut,” he praised, voice husky. The nanites purred in satisfaction.
---
Later that night, alone again as Jess very close best friends suddenly called for an emergency girls meeting, Rob sprawled on the bed scrolling through his phone. The nanites guided his thumb. They wanted *more*. More followers. More attention. More bodies to claim. But then, he remembered. He practically never updated that scientist yet. So, he opened the private forum where he’d first learned about the skinsuit protocol. His fingers typed on autopilot — the nanites feeding him knowledge, confidence, and filthy ideas. He posted a new thread:
“Merger & Acquisition, successful. Everything is fully integrated. Strength, stamina, and horniness off the charts. Exceptional first 24 hours and already got the original owner’s girlfriend wrecked twice and best friend half-broken on chest day. Who wants progress pics?”
The replies flooded in instantly, including from the Montenegrin. The nanites drink in the validation like fuel.
Joshua’s original nerd personality is still in there — quiet, calculating, a little anxious — but the nanites had buried it under layers of alpha programming. Every time he hesitated, a warm pulse will pread through the suit
Do it. Take it. You deserve it.
Every moral boundary dissolved in a haze of lust and power. That’s how the idea for Nate solidified.
The nanites had recorded every moment from the morning chest session: Nate’s nervous breathing when Rob’s sweaty balls hung over his face, the way his straight-boy cock betrayed him, the faint whimper he tried to hide. The nanites analyzed it. They calculated the perfect dose, the perfect timing, the perfect way to break him. Then they fed the plan directly into Rob’s mind like a command.
Perfect him. Give the suit to another people who deserved it more that will submit to you
Rob’s cock jumped at the thought. He stroked himself slowly, letting the nanites edge him for nearly an hour while he planned how to really add Nate to his collection
---
A few nights later, Nate comes over for beers and “bro time.”
They wrestled on the living room floor after a few drinks — playful at first, then intense. Joshua let the suit’s power show: pinning Nate effortlessly, sweaty chests sliding together, the musky scent of the gym still lingering on both of them. Nate is breathing hard underneath him, half-hard in his shorts.
Joshua grinned down at him, cocky as hell. “Let's cut through the BS. You wanna see the good stuff?"
Nate laughed, but there's hunger in his eyes. “Fuck yeah, bro. Show it to me,"
Joshua reached into his pocket and pulled out an identical pill — the second dose the Montenegrin sent him,"
“This little thing. The pill that makes me as strong as this.” He flexed one arm overhead, bicep peaking massively. “New-gen shit. Way beyond roids. You in?”
Nate’s eyes gleamed with that same supplement lust Rob used to have.
“Hell yes. Gimme.” He took the pill and chugged it with the rest of his beer, no questions asked. Dumb jock.
Joshua watched, already hard again. He pinned Nate down fully now, grinding their bodies together.
“Good boy,” he murmured, voice dark and possessive. “You’re gonna make a perfect side fuck buddy once it kicks in. Two suits. Two bodies. And I’m running both.”
Nate’s eyes widened as the first wave hit — skin starting to loosen, muscles twitching. Joshua leaned in close, lips brushing his ear.
“Welcome to the new regime, bro. You’re about to feel how good it is serving my needs,"
look at dese two big dumb jocks right here absolutely drippin after destroyin da gym. dat shiny ass skin? dat aint no baby oil bro dat pure sweat from goin full retard mode on da weights. dese bros been in dere sweatin their brains out n i love it.
real talk if u leavin da gym n u aint lookin like u just got outta da shower wit all ur clothes on den u didnt push hard enough fr fr. me n my crew hit legs n chest today n i was leakin sweat like a broken faucet da whole time. shirt stuck to my back, shorts soaked, forehead drippin in my eyes burnin but i kept goin. brain went completely empty after da first 30 mins jus pure musclehead mode lift eat sleep repeat.
if ur towel aint completely drenched n u can still think straight after leg day u gotta turn around n go back in bro. real jocks leave da gym lookin like dey ran thru a car wash. dese boys in da pic get it — shiny, red, stupid grins, flexin in compression shorts cuz dey earned dat pump. sweat pourin off every inch a dat muscle. dat how u know u actually worked.
i aint leavin till im a walkin puddle. till my head so fried i cant even spell my own name n my clothes feel like dey glued on. if u aint sweatin ur brains out every session u never gonna look like dese jacked up meatheads. simple as dat.
so next time u in da gym remember: no sweat = no gains. go till ur drippin head to toe like dese bros n ur skull feelin nice n hollow. dat da jock way 💦🔥
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
He's a cocky bastard, always showing off, loves to sweep you off your feet, really into that "alpha" shit. Fortunately for you, you love to fuck some alpha's mouth.
theartofmadeline
snowghoul
jbbartram-illu
jacobvanloon
dailybridgerton
romaincrisis
ellievsbear
