Lesson : First in the FML series. You want your partner to be more dominant in the bedroom, and his musky pits will do just that.
Obedience : Your friend came back different after summer vacation. You should check in on him.
Dominance : Your roommate has been so annoying. Maybe a quick hypnosis file will make him more bearable to live with. Just don't get too close yourself.
Worship : Your gym crush would look much better worshiping you like the god you are.
Relax : You accidentally book a resort room during Gay Days, but maybe these guys know how to party?
Fraternize : You borrow a frat hypno file to make your roommate the bro you always wanted. But loyalty to the frat is important, bro.
Process Heavy : You wanted to get some quick muscle, but you keep missing hours from your days and guys are hypnotized by your scent.
Contact : After a long night lost, you stumble into a gym for some help getting home. But the changing rooms have other plans for you.
Match : You and your jock roommate are becoming a perfect match.
Cursed : An ex-boyfriend's curse means you see a lot more of him than you want to.
Underbaked / Overbaked : Looking to spice things up you decide to transform your partner. But did you go too far? This pair of stories has two different endings depending on how cooked your partner's brain is.
Video : You couldn't believe how lucky you were to find an actual hypno file, but now you want to get a bit more experimental with the outcomes.
Urged : Your new instincts are urging you to find twinks to convert to your furry, musky ways.
In : You want to be in the frat, no matter what it takes.
Sealed : A new apartment building officially has recently reached full occupancy. Now the experiment it was designed for can begin.
Loop : You wake up but you are different, somehow? But that can't be true. Everything is the same.
Confidence : Sometimes your weight isn't a problem. It's just a matter of perspective.
Break : You use a hypno file to take a brain vacation. But what if the new you doesn't want to go back?
Initiate : 2,500 subscriber special follow up to Fraternize. A professor is looking for a promising young student who recently joined a frat and finds more than he expected about the strange happenings on campus.
Stud : A studās job is to plant his seed and grow a stable of stud bros.
Zonked : Your roommate is zonked out of his mind on your supply. He better pay you back.
Coke : Share a Coke with a Bro! Or an office bro to be.
Etsy : An Etsy witch has powerful magic. Be careful what you wish for, and be sure to read the fine print
Alpha / Pack : A school reporter sneaks into a locker room after a big win. What happens when he meets the Alpha, the coach, or the lead member of the Pack, the quarterback? And will he ever be the same?
Broken: Corruption is easy once you know what buttons to push. The straightest man can be bent to become just another tool for pleasure.
Spread: A steamy sauna session makes a big impact. Now you only have two desires: spread your seed and grow more men like you.
Our ever popular BOGO: buy one change for someone, get a mystery one for yourself free:
BoGo Offer : Learn about the offer, now extended indefinitely
Order #100567 Nerd_From_Football : A football player becomes a nerd, and you become closer with his former team.
Order # 100690 Bro_From_Friend : A friend becomes the musky co-star to your new career.
Order #100714 Daddy_From_Friend : Your straight friend is sure to enjoy a new Daddy lifestyle opposite his devoted hunky partner.
Customer Service #3478 Hunk_From_Roommate : A concerned customer calls concerned about an order his roomate placed for him, but becomes exactly the good boy his master wants.
Order #10108 Thick_From_Thin : There are two ways to put on mass, and both can be quite liberating.
Some Stories Stand Alone:
Warning: Bear Attacks : As winter approaches, a PSA about the unexpected dangers Bears can pose.
Test Subject #1 : A short, classic, smelly jock tf. The first story!
Test Subject #2 : A short, classic bear tf.
Test Subject #4: A short, classic football player tf.
Attention: Health and Safety Alert : The University has delivered a notice about a new virus infecting young men and turning them into strange, buff versions of themselves.
Answer: Luck : How do you get a story made? Maybe just by asking.
Mythical Beach Body : A group of friends perform a fun ritual on their friend with godly results.
Sugar Rush : The day after Halloween and all that sugar is catching up with you.
Quickie Mart : A man enters your line at the grocery store, but he has no notion of paying.
Protein Gut: Your partner has been more consistent at the gym, but needs more protein to sustain his growth.
If you made it this far, you must still be looking for something. Feel free to leave an ask and we may get it in stock.
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I went to a thrift store and tried on some musky clothes because they were on sale. When I tried them on they were way too big and I noticed there were sweat stains too! Yet for some reason I couldnt find the will to take them off...
Musky and stained clothes? In a thrift store? That's odd, I most definitely didn't do that. Someone must have put them there precisely for someone to find them... Quite curious about what hides behind that. A wifebeater and sweatpants, both definitely a few sizes too big for you, what a weird combo.
Oh, putting them on already? I would have done the same, I'm curious as to what will even happen to you.
As soon as you put those clothes on, a sense of relief breezed over you. You felt good in those clothes. They were warmer than they were supposed to, and slightly damp, but to you it only added to the comfort of it all. You knew you were meant to find them.
In the changing room, you stared at your reflections. You had never realised how good you looked. But still, something was not quite perfect. Was it the tiny voice in your head telling you how weird it felt and how you should remove those clothes and never touch them again? No way. You just didn't feel the clothes against your skin enough, your underwear was in the way.
So, you promptly removed everything again, leaving you butt naked in the changing room. But then, the guy standing in the mirror felt... Different. As if he weren't exactly you, but another version of you. Sure, you had the same eyes, and a similar athletic build, but he exuded so much charisma you couldn't help but be in awe. You looked at the stranger in the mirror, into his eyes, and smiled. You knew what you had to do.
As if entranced by your own reflection, you idly put the clothes back on. And it felt good. Your stiffening dick pulsing against the damp fabric of the sweatpants, a dark spot right at the tip ā did you make it, or had it been here before, who knows.
The air felt heavier around you. More humid, more... Musky. You brought the top to your face, breathing in deep. God, it smelt so fucking good. But not strong enough. Using your nose like a wild animal, you sniffed around, trying to find anywhere with a stronger scent, anywhere it could come from, and soon enough you found yourself burying your face in your very own pit. Smelling such bliss made you moan out loud, and your entire body tensed suddenly.
The face still buried deep in your own pit, you felt something brushing against your skin. From your pit against your face? From your face against your pit? Both. While a dense forest of wet dark curls sprouted under your arm, you could feel the lower part of your face begin itching; and soon enough, the timid chin hairs you had before quickly found company, as a dense stubble covered your entire lower face, before becoming a well trimmed beard. But wait, didn't you always have that? Why were you only noticing it? Whatever, it made you so hot and horny, a hand wandered into your pants, pawing at your crotch.
And even that felt much bigger than it did ā or at least you thought it did ā mere moments ago. That was, of course, after finding your own dick through the thick jungle of hair that had sprouted in your crotch. But when you found it, part of you was surprised; there was no way something that thick was your dick, right? Heh, who am I kidding. You were so proud of your hefty sausage, even touching it made it throb with excitement. Its warmth against your calloused hand did not help in the slightest. You felt it thicken and harden, snaking down your pant leg while smearing pre down its path. And gosh, your balls felt so full and heavy, you needed to dump a load somewhere.
"Is everything alright in here-"
A poor unassuming clerk asked, behind the curtain of the changing room. But he must have had noticed your amazing smell, seeing how he stopped in his track. Without a second thought, you opened the curtain just barely, and put a large hand behind his back to pull him in. And while you closed the curtain back, you lifted him up as if it were nothing, and shoved your lips against his. He didn't fight back; heck, he even was the one to initiate the kissing. His tongue timidly thought to enter between your lips, but as soon as you started to get serious, your thick tongue quickly took the dominance and lead the dance.
The entranced assistant's hands were roaming around the massive shelf that was your chest, sensually fondling soft fat and relaxed muscle alike, bringing a deep moan ā or a low growl ā to resonate in the cramped space. And as his hands roamed lower and lower, they quickly found themselves around your leaking rod, already smeared with pre from all the excitation.
"Turn around."
It wasn't even a question, it was an order you had just barked at him. But the clerk was so horny now that this was enough to make him moan before he quickly complied, offering his soft bubble butt at you. And after aiming your thick bear cock at his hole, you began rubbing it with the tip, lubing it with the huge amount of pre you were producing.
"Please sir, just slide it in already!"
Oh well, no need to tell you twice. With one hand on the wall and another on his hips, you slowly inserted centimetre after centimetre in his hungry hole. It all was going smoothly, until the end where you decided to slam the last few centimetres in, your sweaty balls loudly smacking against his legs, ripping a loud moan out of his throat
You could hear it. The short breaths, the fapping sounds, of the clerk's coworkers standing behind the curtain. So why not bring them some smell as well? Lifting one of your massive arms and exposing your damp jungle of a pit, the changing room exploded with musk, and soft moans could be heard from behind the curtain. You smirked, proud of how godly your masculinity was, but you were not done. You had balls to empty.
Fuck. You were so much of a man now, your seed was enough to make the clerk as much of a man as you. You wanted to check if anything else had happened, but your vision was blurred with lust. Everything was all too much.
Accelerating little bit by little bit, you began going back and forth, in and out. His bubble butt was stretched out to its limits, but seemed to be growing under your pre to accommodate your rod better. Breathing in your own pit, you moaned loudly, as your other free hand began rubbing his ass. Surprised, you looked down; it definitely looked hairier than before.
Back and forth, back and forth. The more you went, the more you felt your chest bounce up and down, so much so that it began bumping in your chin. You couldn't even see your own bear cock, despite it thickening and lengthening as if trying its best to remain in your view. And your hands looked so thick and hairy against the clerk.
You just wanted to cum already. You wanted to cum so bad.
With your dick still deep in him, you spun him around, lifting him with your hips alone, and buried your tongue deep in his mouth, hoping this would be enough to deafen the roar you let out as you began cumming. And kept cumming. And kept cumming even more. You just couldn't stop.
Since you were holding him in place with your bear cock and massive chests, your hands were free to roam his body, and it was even more heavenly than you could have expected. From his sloshing belly full of your potent man seed and its thickening treasure trail, to the massive wide load of a hairy ass behind, without forgetting his big milky pecs and the silky beard brushing against yours, you had definitely made a man. A man whose clothes were struggling to contain.
Once finally empty ā for now ā you stepped back, letting the clerk fall down, a certain amount of cum pooling out of his ass, your dick still dripping.
You were so proud. You were a real man, and managed to make the shop assistant a real man as well.
Dick first, you opened the curtain and found who you assumed to be coworkers completely exhausting and panting, dick out, and cum stains on their tight shirts. Maybe you had just not noticed them when you enter, but you were so sure they were not such handsome cubs when you entered the shop. With a grin, you shook your ever half hard rod above them, letting your thick milk drip on them and in their mouth. A little gift from you to them, you thought with a grin.
Finally putting your dick back in your shorts, a thought crossed your mind, and you almost rushed to your car.
You needed to work out so bad. And your refilling balls needed emptying again, and you knew some people would be more than happy to help.
Paul steps over the line tearing into his boss' daughter for her terrible first draft. Unable to engage with Juan Carlos, the unrealistic horny Latino stud of a protagonist, Paul's going to really find out what it's like to live as a character with nothing but sex on the mind.
For all his valid criticisms at least Paul will now get to chill out and enjoy himself! Similarly, hope you enjoy this one! -Occam
āJuan Carlos walked his hot sexy ass in to the bar and when he did every little horny twink had his eyes on him. āAyyy papi youāre so sexy!ā One of them said, hornily.ā Paul sighed heavily as he dropped the manuscript littered with red ink back onto his desk. āOkay, Stacy. I hope you understand that Iām not going to be moving forward with you on this one.ā
Paul had been so excited for this novel. It was supposed to be his first āfunā project in at least a calendar year. His boss has been relentlessly on his ass about pleasing their publishing houseās biggest client, a major cookbook studio, and this was supposed to be his big reward.Ā
āItāll be the next gay YA best seller!ā āYer gonna love it!ā āWonāt even need to polish this diamond!ā Really he shouldāve read between the lines and realized that his boss was talking about the CEOās daughter Stacyās latest attempt to force her way into the creative world.Ā
Speaking of the devil, she sits opposite him, mouth hanging open halfway to her faux fur coat. Apparently surprised to not have another door opened by her daddy the CEO, Stacyās eyes begin to well up as the editor attempts to do his job. āLike, do you mean weāre not moving forward because itās already go to go? Like, itās ready to print?ā
āNo Ms. McClure, I do not mean that. I donāt believe we will be moving forward with anything unless you decide to completely start this project from scratch.ā
Mascara designed to trail down her cheeks with tears does just that as she lets fly her waterworks, āBut daddy said youād freaking make this the next big thing Paul! He said you could make it the next Heated Rivalry!āĀ
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Paul struggles to maintain the level of professionalism that has always done so well by him. āLook, Stacy, Iām sorry if my words are harsh but, well the project is unpolished and a little juvenile. I mean even the title, Juan Carlos: Latin Lovermano? Work with me Stacy, how am I supposed to give a note on that besides toss it and try again?ā
Looking up at the ceiling to slow her sobs, surely to save some tears for the next poor fool sheāll weaponize crying at, Stacy tries to salvage anything. Sniffling, āSo you just donāt like the title then.ā
āAmong many, many other things, no.ā
āDaddy said people love puns? Itās camping or something, you must not get itā¦ā
Paul wasnāt past the point of diplomacy, but eager to move on with his day he opts to just go scorched earth. Lining up the biggest issue he has with the book in his sights, the protagonist, he prepares to shoot. Stereotypical, vaguely racist, and lacking any motivation beyond whatever smutty thing Stacy sees fit to move the āplotā forward, Juan Carlos was not a man you care to follow unless youāre actively masturbating.Ā
āI just think Juan Carlos leaves a lot to be desired, Ms. McClure.ā
Pouting, she relents, āWhat do you even know! I swear all my gay friends are just like him! Literally spend five minutes talking to a sexy Latino hunk and tell me again how I donāt know how to write!ā
Narrowing his eyes, at this heās had enough. Obviously she doesnāt respect him enough to know a thing about him, daddyās daughter be damned heās not going to take that. āExcuse me? Iāll have you know that I am both gay and my gra- abuela is columbian.ā
āSo what, youāre an eighth? And like so- do you want a trophy? Youāre not the sexy kinda beefcake my audience wants to read about.ā
āStacy, first off you canāt say that. Second your math- Never mind that. You don't even have an audience.ā
This strikes a chord. āFuck you! Jesus! You donāt know how hard I worked to write this. Itās the culmination of my lifeās work.ā
āWell, Iād suggest in the next life to try to maybe spend a little more of that time learning how to write if you want to do anything other than waste my time.ā Paulās face freezes in a grimace of pain as the words fly out even sharper than he had intended.Ā
So used to dealing with harsh layout designers and demanding photographers, the kid gloves simply fell off as his patience waned. Keeping his eyes shut for a beat, he takes a deep breath in the silence before opening them to find Stacyās face a mask of rage.
Tears have evaporated entirely as her eyes seem to almost burn with a palpable anger. āYāknow Paul? Funny you donāt think JC is realistic enough. Because the way I see it, youāre just like him.ā
Rolling his eyes at this he canāt help but dig his grave deeper, āReally now? I donāt quite see it, given Iām your fatherās best employee and Juan Carlosā sole trait is thinking with his dick; Wishful thinking perhaps as that would indeed make me the ideal for this slop youāre calling a book.ā
Paul feels something snap in the room as the fire leaves her eyes to be replaced with a simpler disdain. He assumes their meeting is over and prepares to apologize when Stacy grabs the edit marked manuscript and just tears it in two. Shocked at the act of strength, Paul stares stunned as she gets the last word.Ā
āYou win, bitch. This was supposed to be fun. Hope you enjoy your last few days working here JC. I am so going to your boss.ā
Annoyed, Paul immediately starts an email to HR to preemptively complain about his meeting and Stacyās complete lack of professionalism. Laying the facts of the confrontation on the table, he ensures they know she was homophobic and racist only so they donāt can him when she tries to work her nepo-magic.
Still slightly reeling from just how poorly that meeting went, Paul tries to keep busy for the rest of the day. Unfortunately for the editor, his to-do list is quite sparse given he was supposed to be going through Stacyās book through the end of the week.
Skipping ahead, McClure Srās next task for him was to do research on this influencer theyāre optioning for a cookbook. Apparently heās supposed to bring āalpha brosā into their market. Paul doesnāt believe in the idea so to him this is more an opportunity to find receipts that prove Bryce Bentley is not a good fit for their brand.
Immediately searching āBryce Bentley Apology Videoā the expert is soon privy to the content creatorās litany of scandals. Quickly jotting down the what, when, and where of a few tasteless jokes done by a man who shall certainly not get a book deal, Paul prepares to send his short take in an email before he glances back at Bentleyās instagram.
The man is pretty hot. No, heās being unfair. The man is an absolute stud. How do you even get a body like that? Minimizing his email, Paul sets to just scrolling through Bryceās feed. Itās important that he gets a full picture of the man after all, see what all the hype is about.Ā
Quickly do his eyes glaze over as he carefully inspects every shirtless and sweaty image of this man in the gym and at the beach. Tuning out his douchey chatter and paying extra close attention to his gay baiting, despite his usual composure, Paulās hand sneaks under his table towards his pants.
Unable to stop staring at the fratty, surely illiterate broās biceps, Paulās mouth falls ajar as he begins to feel a little sweaty himself. When his hand finds purchase on a package throbbing just a hair larger, thereās suddenly a sharp itch burning under his arms.Ā
No idea what at all could be causing this, the editor quickly yanks up his shirtās sleeve to find a markedly hairier pit. Visibly wet with sweat he mustāve worked up during his spat, Paul canāt quite believe just how much thicker his usually manscaped pits have become. And yet, despite telling himself how gross the unmanicured patch is, he canāt tear his eyes away.
His nose twitches as his neck reflexively leans closer to the bramble of curls that seemingly grows thicker under his attention. His neck begins to crane down as his free hand abandons any decency to snake into his pants. Scratching through a similarly less tamed grove of pubes, in no time the employee of the quarter is fondling himself at his desk. āWhuh- what am I doing?ā
Moaning to himself as his eyelids feel heavier, that heās behind a desk is perhaps his only saving grace as his department head decides to stop by and check on him after his meeting with Stacy. Kindness in his eyes, Davis assumes his favorite underlingās visibly frazzled state must be due to that trainwreck of a meeting. Looking past the panting and messy hair, the strange rolled up sleeve and- is he sniffing his hand?Ā
Clearly Paul just needs a day.Ā
āHiya there kid. Seems Stacy got ya all worked up huh?ā
Bolting to attention, Paulās hand slams into the desk as he tries to appear like he wasnāt seconds away from masturbating at work. Chest heaving from the anxiety of nearly being caught with said hand in his pants, Paulās mind is scattered as he only just now realizes that he had his hand in his pants at work like some horny troglodyte. Smelling his sweaty fingers his eye twitches and he quickly and calmly clasps hands on his desk to feign normalcy as his semi still strains his pants.Ā
āYes sir Mr. Davis,ā one of Bentleyās thirst traps still loops on Paulās monitor. Not quite showing print as much as every vein on his cock while doing pull ups, Paul can barely stop his eyes flitting over as he explains himself. āShe did more or less tell me to hit the dicks- My god. Di- Bricks. Bricks. So sorry sir.ā
āDonāt you worry about it Paulie. Why donāt you finish up what youāre doing and head out for the day.ā
āThank you so much Davis sir. I swear Iāll be back and better than ever tomorrow!ā Stress melting off him, when Paul reclines in his chair it allows his monitor to reflect in the window behind him. Davis canāt help but see the softcore porn and does a doubletake before wishing Paul well and rushing back to his own desk. Kid just needs a break, shoot as far as he knows that smut was straight out of that hellion Stacyās book. What is McClure going to do with her?
Free to leave, Paul rushes to do so as swiftly as he can. When his attention is immediately sucked back to the faceless sweaty torso and sweat stained gym shorts on his monitor, Paul grits his teeth and forces the machine to shut off. Gathering his things and standing, despite knowing how his soft cock should have more than enough space in his pants, he feels his package strain.Ā
Having gone through great lengths to appear professional, Paul is shocked when he can see his own visible dick print. Under his gaze it twitches slightly larger as the idea of having a thicker dick excites him. And yet, this is far from the only change as he grabs his coat and rushes out the door.Ā
Desperate to get home as fast as possible, he refuses to acknowledge how every item on him is slightly too tight. Never one for exercise beyond making sure he can do twenty push ups every once in a while, Paulās stunned when his chest tugs against his increasingly sweaty top.
The sleeves of his shirt begin to pull, then hug, then strain against his arms as they rapidly put on weight. Rushing down the sidewalk, the editor assumes heās simply been too negligent on his diet recently. Maybe he ruined his clothes in the wash? Heās just put on weight and not noticed. That makes sense. But he cannot hold onto this delusion as he looks to see muscle visibly twitching as he swings his arms.
And then it begins affecting his mind.
Shiiiitt Papi, my arms are looking killerrr
His arm tries to raise itself into a flex, Paulās blood goes cold. Blinking quickly as this stops him dead in his tracks, the editor is accidentally bumped into by a mousy man on the phone carrying a tray of coffees. Turning to apologize, Paul promptly freezes again when he locks eyes with the embarrassed gofer still on the phone. Every muscle in his body tenses and throbs as he feels a dull static fill his mind.
He can do nothing but feel as he watches the twink walk past him with a nod. Blood rushing in his ears, Paul stares at the manās tight ass swaying as he hurries back to work. Fuckkk I need that ass. Now. Locked onto the bouncing butt as it makes haste, Paul stumbles forward. He feels his body try to pursue him. Get his number, get him.Ā
Unable or unwilling to fight the desire, the need, Paul is only stopped from his chase as when he takes his first wholehearted step forward his pants tear. Looking down at his tight dress pants, heās honestly surprised this is the first rip as they almost appear painted on. In the deep recesses of his mind some muted voice shouts that they should not be so built.
When more and greater tears lance down his thighs and grow longer with every step, he shakes out of his horny stupor. Almost drooling from the slightly tanner skin exposed from the gashes trailing up towards his pendulous cock that sways even more than that bitchās hot ass, Paul steels himself and realizes he needs to just get home. This takes more effort than it ever should. Distracted by every man with a pulse he passes, some bestial Id within him keeps trying to rise and take over.
Shit that fuckerās fine. We have the time for a quickie. Que paso? Canāt we have some fun? That bar on sixth is open alreadyā¦
Each time he bats it down, shakes it off, the next time it returns slightly louder. Needier. More dominant. Needing to physically shake his head and murmur āNo.ā to maintain control, under the beating late afternoon sun, his tan seems to be quite a bit darker. Obviously his rational mind will say itās just from walking to work more often than driving these days, heās just been out more.
But as the sunkissed skin stretches under the sleeves of his shirt, as his seemingly tea stained thighs are revealed to be even tanner through the tears in his pants, Paul knows this cannot be the case. Why am I wearing these shitty pants anyway? Fuckin hiding my peak muslosā¦ Muslos? What does that even mean?
Long neglected Spanish begins to trickle into his mind as he arrives home and slams the door shut behind him. Usually so courteous and quiet a neighbor, with the chaos of the day weighing on him, the path of least resistance is simply too great.
Tearing his pants and boxers the rest of the way off, Paul stumbles into the bathroom looking to hop in the shower or throw on some much needed deodorant. Sniffing himself as he arrives, his plans are halted by the one two punch of his heady musk and seeing his shockingly muscular reflection.
Mierdaā¦ No one will be able to resist me.
Hungry eyes take in his bicep as he raises it into a flex. Turning to bounce his ass, he feels itchy stubble prickle onto his face like it never has as a cocky smirk forces its way onto his face. The shirt that has been suctioned to him since he stepped out of the office begins to give way to his burgeoning new bulk as he canāt help but imagine everything he can do with his growing new body.
Faces flicker through his imagination of all the new eye candy heāll be able to bed. Pre begins to pool at his feet as drool trickles down his stubbly new jaw as his thoughts are more and more displaced by the new rising voice.
Maybe I should start clubbing again? He needs to show this off. No, he needs to figure out whatās going on. To figure out his best angles. Fuck like heās got any bad ones. His smirk grows darker as his heavier hand reaches down to fondle his excitable dripping dick. Leaning against the wall on his brawny new forearm, he starts fully masturbating.
Huffing his b.o. as he grunts and snarls. Paul imagines topping for the first time in his life. He sees a snatched waist and bubble butt bouncing on his prodigious uncut cock. One he can scarcely recognize. One he can scarcely imagine as he swears he can feel that little coffee runnerās tight ass hugging his cock as his hips rut into his meaty hand.Ā
Fuck take it bitch. Take Juan Carlosā fucking horse cock. Tell all your- Tell your- Wh- What? Juan? Juan Carlos?
Not slowing his thrust for a second, the name Juan Carlos hits him like a train. Staring at his darker arms as veins trail their whole length, as darker hair prickles across his forearms, he realizes what is happening. Too little too late as he feels his heavier balls pull and his mind goes even hazier.
Stumbling back to the sink, Paulās cock bounces in the air as he tries to slow, to stop the storm of cum about to fly into the bathroom. Catching his reflection, he sees his focussed horny expression instead shift to a cocky gleaming smirk. Juan Carlos is sex. He is sex.
And then he loses control āFFF- Mierda!ā His spotless bathroom is painted with a load larger than heās ever seen before. Rocketing across the room, he shoots string after string across the mirror, into the sink, onto his toothbrush. And then his shaky knees give way as he falls to the cold tile.Ā
Exhausted, barely able to lift his heavy new arm, he pushes himself against the bath before losing consciousness. He feels the last few spurts of his load dripping through the thick new curls on his thigh. No es- this isnāt possibleā¦
When he awakes he cannot recall what his steamy dreams are about, but he knows the cum stains in his pubes and pooling on his thicker new abs cannot be from his session last night alone. In an action that would be previously unthinkable to the orderly man, he scratches his face with his similarly cum-splattered hand to find his facial hair has grown thicker.Ā
Pulling himself up to standing, Juan is slightly woozy as he makes his first moves in a body far larger than heās ever had to manage. Apathetic to the wretched state of his bathroom, he pulls back on his dirty boxers and exits to his living room.Ā
Clean as he left it, when Juan steps in it begins to adjust to the life he is soon to live. Stomping his heavier feet with no care for the unlucky souls used to the far more cordial upstairs neighbor, Juan yanks open the fridge and yawns as the glass bottles in the door clatter against each other.Ā
Scratching his ass and smirking as he feels his fingers claw into the fat and muscle therein, Juan is surprised to find neatly organized prepped meals. When he does a double take, the growing sex-fiend finds it far more to his temperament. Leftovers abound, shoved in between containers of eggs left open and protein rich meals he can just throw in the oven and forget.Ā
Grabbing a full blender pitcher he just threw in the fridge to drink from today, Juan almost starts chugging it before he decides to toss a couple more eggs in. Gotta hit his goals. Gotta look like the fuckin king he is. Juan makes no effort to quiet the voice as it returns to his head, rumbling with the same morning weariness that plague his own morning thoughts. Though at this point there is little at all separating the two.
The few remaining differences between who he once was and Juan fade even further as he starts chugging straight from the blender like an animal. Gulping down almost half a gallon of protein slurry, the horny editor feels some of the silty sludge miss his mouth and stream down his salt-stained cheeks.
Wiping it off with his meaty bicep, he proceeds to just lick the mix off his arm. This brings his face so close to his exposed and still dripping pit, Juan smirks as he gets a whiff of his new morning musk. Surprised at how intense it is, some inkling of the neat-freak hiding within him returns. āShit have I gone weeks without fuckinnn deodorant or what?ā
He can hardly believe it when the voice rumbling out of his chest sounds just like that voice in his head. Some weak part of him knows thatās not him, that's not who he should be, he shakes his head. Heās not Juan Carlos. He- Heās? He canāt remember his name. When the realization hits him he gasps only to feel pressure rising within him.
Feeling his stomach bloat slightly from the heavy shake, the man tries to recall his name and stop himself from a humiliating burp at once. Mind divided, both attempts swiftly fail as he unleashes a burp longer and louder than heād believed possible. Worse than the straight assholes heād always wanted to put in their place.
Buuuuurrpp- āShittt if only theyād see me now. Huhuh. Shit theyād probably find themselves on my dick too. Nadieā¦ uhhh no one can, uh? whateverā¦ā
Tired of thinking about anything thatāll rile him up, Juan forgets about forgetting his name and instead channels all his energy into getting a morning pump. Itās just the path of least resistance. Piles of manuscripts and a bookshelf full of classics he had dreamed of one day adding to clatter to the floor as wood shines to a metal and heavy tomes become heavier weights.
Guffawing as he sees the impossible and only thinks about what a sweet home gym setup heās got, Juan saunters over to the bench and starts pumping free weights. Looking down at his chubbing dick twitching in overfull briefs as he gets a pump in, he grunts as he imagines how ripe his aura will be in here when heās done with his morning workout.Ā
Throwing reggaeton on to blast away his morning delirium and keep his mind thinking about anything other than his needy dick, Juan Carlos pounds iron well into the late morning. When ten rolls around his phone starts blowing up as his boss wonders why heās late for work without letting them know.
āQue..? Oh shittt-ā For some reason the idea of being late fills him with overwhelming dread. Furrowing his heavy brows he doesnāt really understand, itās just a job or whatever? Surely they need JC more than Juan needs them. Still, he groans and prepares to run in, that is, until he sees his reflection. More than anything he needs to relish in his pump.
Flexing in his cum and spit stained bathroom mirror, Juan Carlos delights in the sweat tricking down his veiny arms. Drooling at his package and ass bouncing in his stained briefs, JC starts groping his dick before another call from work comes in and he relents to just handle his bestial need later. āPinche- boss man donāt know whatās comingā¦ā
None of his clothes seem to fit right. Instinctually he reaches for a neat button up before crumbling it into a ball and throwing it to the floor. Whyād he even buy such boring threads? Shit he needs to wear something flattering, something sexy.Ā
Searching high and low for some skin-tight streetwear and a baggy jacket to hide his pump, Juan eventually finds something adequate. Even as he throws it on though, when he sees his reflection the clothes grow that much tighter as he turns himself on. Meaty arms strain against sleeves that should be baggy, cock so visible he might as well not be wearing pants at all, and a cocky smirk surrounded by stubble he obviously doesnāt care enough to shave.
Despite the small shred of himself shouting to rush to work, he takes his time sauntering down the street. Prowling and scanning every person in case theyāre looking to fuck, itās a miracle he doesnāt bump into a single twink en route. Instead he just allows the sun to bake him, evening out his dark tan and cooking up some even danker musk in the hoodie.
Hidden beneath his sauna of a hoodie, disparate patches of his skin darken as his skin begins to stain with tattoos. Many of which are promptly hidden as the previously inactive follicles covering his torso suddenly go into overdrive. Lured out by the atmosphere of sweat blooming beneath his heavy jacket, fertilized by his salty stench JC feels his scratchy fur coat thicken out of sight.
Perfectly highlighting his rows of abs and connecting his cum-covered pubes with his sweat-dripping pits, JC feels up his hairy chest and struggles to ignore the rising boner at the idea of all the horny bitches thatāll be all over him at the club. Twinks, jocks, and bears oh meirda he can hardly think for salivating about all the needy men that crave his cock as much as he craves giving it to them.
Reaching his arm up his shirt, exposing his hairy abs dripping with sweat, Juan Carlos is stopped at the entrance to his workplace by security. āAyy whatās the problem guey?ā His words are dripping with a thick Mexican accent that sounds natural and correct to his ears, just like it always has.Ā
Frowning, the guard requests to see some identification. Annoyed, JC doesnāt let it show as he instead plays up his sex appeal. Reaching into his back pocket, standing at an angle that allows the guard to see his thick ass, Juan Carlos produces a loose driverās license and takes a look at it himself.Ā
Seeing the same sexy self as always, Juan sees some gringo ass name for a second before itās replaced with his own. Juan Carlos Hernandez. Careful to ensure their hands connect as he hands over the ID, JC waits to be waved through to get to a job he doesnāt quite remember. Gotta be a model or something? Equisā¦
The guard returns the license with a grunt and nods him through. Juan Carlos shoots him a wink and makes sure he struts slowly so the guard can watch him go. He knows where he is if he wants a particularly brusque lay later. For now he just needs to figure out where heās going.
Feeling his stubble fill out into a beard to match that on his license, he scratches its final touches as he sneaks into his office. JCās mouth hangs open as he sits at his desk and tries to remember what heās supposed to be doing. Failing to remember his log in, he struggles to understand how to log on as a guest.
Oft distracted by his reflection in the dark monitor, when he at last brute forces his way into the computer his lust takes over once more as he decides heās been so diligent as to earn a treat. Doesnāt he deserve a little break? Given an inch his needy cock takes a mile as it instantly begins working its way to the hem of his tight shorts.
Shocked beyond belief, his boss Davis stands stunned. As if he were expecting someone else, confronted with the beast of a man that is Juan Carlos, he can only gasp as the man actively masturbating shoots him a nod and a wink. Though when the horny stud sees whoās with him he gives his meat a break, remiss as he is to.
āHeyyyy chica, you ready to hit the clubs?ā
Though knowing she set this into motion, Stacy is similarly surprised by the hunk before her. As if he walked straight off the page, itās Juan Carlos himself. Though, it clearly worked too well. As she takes him in she completely forgets that she had ever written him into existence. Juanās her GBF IRL? He always ahs been. The one whoāll fuck anything that moves. The chicano hunk that drags her to after afters and dingy gay clubs she wouldn't dream of finding herself in.
āItās literally 11 AM babe. And you know Dave said if he catches you slacking again youāre done!ā
āAhh que sera sera you know chica~ Sides, I think Dave has bigger fish to fry than getting rid of Juan Carlos.ā
When Juan Carlos rubs his hand through his hairy abs to get Daveās attention, the boss just sighs and pinches his temples. Workload having almost doubled as his best employee has been unknowingly converted into a man who lives, breathes, and stinks sex, he does indeed have bigger concerns. āLook, Hernandez. Just try and keep it in your pants- Or at least lock the door, I mean Jesus Christ this is a workplaceā¦ā
Unable to question why their esteemed publishing house seems to have an employee whose sole purpose seems to be manwhore, for some reason he canāt focus on the idea long enough to dispute it. Heās sure this is somehow Stacyās fault.
āAnything else, boss man? Quires un- Ah, you want a one on one later?ā
Davis clears his throat, āNo that uhm, wonāt be necessary Juan Carlos.ā Blushing he pawns this situation onto his bossā daughter, āStacy, if you wouldnāt mind helping Mr. Hernandez get started, Iāve got to handle some upstart influencer whoās threatening to sue us.ā
āYou got it Davey~ā
Thoughtlessly slamming the door behind him, Stacyās beside herself with excitement. āJuan Carlosss~ So whatās the move tonight, babe?ā
Scratching his beard with his trademark smirk, Juan Carlos spins an office chair that can barely handle his weight as he recalls the litany of men heās lusted after and tempted since he last busted a nut. āYou know, I can get what I want anywhere. Why donāt you pick chica?ā
Flopping onto his desk, Stacy starts shooting texts to her rolodex of fellow rich chicks and their horny twinks to figure out their nightly plans. Seeing reflection in the wide monitor as it goes to sleep, Juan Carlos flexes at himself and feels his easy dick start to rise. āAy Chica, Iām gonna go cruise. Esta bien?ā
āYou got it bestie! See ya tonight!āĀ
There are certainly worse things than having an heiress as a fag hag. Sauntering past Drewās office on the way to get his dick wet, Juan Carlos canāt imagine life another way. Canāt imagine much at all really. Itās as if he were created for no purpose but to fuck and be gawked at. And he wouldnāt have it any other way.
Youre in the wrong place boy, its bear night but judging by your hairless twinky body you didnt know that, did you? Not to worry, he blows smoke in your face, we'll get you fixed up. Fixed up how? You know, help you blend in and get acculturated. Whats that, you dont smoke? Dont worry kid, you will. Here put on this cap, itll look good on you.
Oh you dont like beards either? Well thats funny because youre rocking one now. Dont believe me? Look at yourself. He takes off your shirt, rubbing his hands through your fatteneing chest and growing chest hair. Getting hairy too. Bet you want a cigar dont ya, you always were a heavy smoker Daddy.
What do you mean you dont smoke and youre not my daddy? Weve been dating for years, youre the one who got me to grow out my mustache too look like yours Daddy. Here, take a hit. If you really arent my daddy, if you really arent a smoker, youll be able to stop after one hit.
See! I told you youd get acculturated and remember who you are.
He said he wanted to try a new protein powder at the gym and you wrote it off as another 2 week stint to āget healthyā for the New Year. But itās almost half way through the year and the results have been astounding. Almost impossible to believe. He maintained consistency, going 5 days a week, giving you updates on his new PRās and lifts he was adding. The stamina increase was the most noticeable. It made it so easy to ignore that something was clearly amiss. How he grew out of the last 2 sets of workout gear. How the weight never really went away, it just slowly shifted. How he suddenly wanted to grow out a mustache, then his body hair. You didnāt even know he used to shave. It was a lot harder to ignore when he put that stamina to use experimenting in the bedroom. Your previously cuddly bottom was much more interested in licking, kissing, sucking every inch of you. His oral fixation was becoming obsessive as on night he managed to latch onto your cock and suck three loads out of you. You tried to tell him you were dry, but he threw his hairy pit in your face and suddenly you couldnāt keep track of time. You think it was three loads?The more he sucked, the less you could resist, wanting for him to milk another from you. You werenāt sure when he started topping you, sucking you off as he pounded your prostate, greedily catching every drop you spurted out.
āFuck man, when did you get so masc?ā
He chuckled and flexed, showing off his body. He clearly hadnāt showered after the gym and time wasā¦ funny again, āIāve always been this way boy. Need to hit my protein goals.ā
āArenāt you using that protein powderā¦ā your mouth was agape and drooling.
He laughed, āItās more of a proteinā¦ enhancer. Helps me get the protein I need.ā His gut was pressing against you. It jiggledā¦ so full ofā¦ protein. āI need at least another 20 grams today bro and the gym didnāt give me enough.ā
āIā¦ what-?ā
He glared and shoved his damp pit in your face, āNo more questions. I need that brotein.ā
You sighed and relaxed. No need to worry. Just enjoy the rideā¦
āGood boy, thatās 8 loads. Rest and 2 more sets.ā
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This fat redneck wearing overalls just walked up to me insisting I'm his son. Can you get him to stop bothering me?
*sigh* "why do I always get the crazies...." I mutter under my breath. "Yeah, I'll go talk to him."
I walk into the other room and close the door behind me, obscuring your view.
"Sir, I can't have you disturbing our customers."
You hear the faint conversation through the door.
"Wait, what are you doing. Sto-"
*Thud*
"Please don't!"
My voice suddenly becomes muffled.
"Oh god, what is happening to me?"
You hear the sound of me stumbling around the room.
"Why does this feel.... So good."
My voice is barely recognizable as it starts to become deep and gruff.
"Ohhh... Fuck yeah, I feel so fucking strong."
All you hear is grunting and growling from the other side of the door. Then, all of a sudden, the door busts open.
I squeeze through the door, struggling to fit my broad shoulders through the door frame. I tower over you, my hairy chest is at your eye level, giving you prime view of my hulking body. As your head tilts up to meet me eye to eye, you see my magnificent beard, it radiates more masculinity than you can comprehend.
"Just had a word with pops back there," I say in a thick southern accent, "since talkin' clearly ain't workin' for ya, he says I get to deal with ya myself."
I grab the back of your head and pull you in. You try to pull away, but I don't budge. I lift my other arm and stuff your face into my armpit. You hold your breath as you desperately try to push yourself away from me, but it's no use, it only delays the inevitable.
"You're gonna have to breathe in eventually boy." I chuckle as I rub your face deeper into my pit.
After a few more seconds, you take a deep breath through your nose. You recoil at the musky smell, but I hold you in for a bit longer and make sure you get a few more whiffs.
"That should teach ya a lesson." I say as I let you go.
You quickly spring backward, stumbling to the other side of the room.
"What did you do to me!?" You yell at me as you struggle to catch your balance.
"You'll see..."
You start to feel a tingle in your face when suddenly, thick hairs begin to sprout above your lip, forming a small mustache. You slowly bring your hand up to your face and brush your finger along the wiry hairs.
"Ah! What the fuck?"
The sensation is quickly followed by an intense itchiness that engulfs the lower half of your face as short hairs emerge along your skin, creating a patchy five o'clock shadow. Then your sharp jawline starts to melt into a soft double chin, making your face look even more unkempt than it was before.
And if that wasn't bad enough, you watch as hair starts to fall from your head in clumps, making your hairline recede a couple inches and thinning the rest.
"There's the family resemblance."
I put a baseball cap on your head to hide the hairline.
"Get used to wearin' these, you'll need em." I let out a hearty laugh.
"This... This... Is..." You stutter.
"It's feels great, don't it. Just let it happen boy!"
You start to groan and grunt as your voice begins to deepen. You grab your stomach in pain, then, your stomach suddenly shoots out into a sizable beer belly.
*Uuurrrrppppp!* You let out a nasty burp while your shirt slowly rides up your gut.
A satisfied look takes over your face as you slowly rub your new belly. You're so distracted that you barely notice when your pecs inflate into round man tits that are barely contained by your tiny shirt.
"Bro... Urrrp... I'm getting so ripped."
You chuckle as you flex your arms, barely showing the muscle underneath a layer of fat. Meanwhile, curly hairs begin to sprout all over your body. You're still a far way away from being as hairy as your older bro, but most men dream to be as hairy as you. Hair starts poking out above your shirt collar and over your shoulders while they spread across your exposed belly. That's not even mentioning the forest of hair covering your back.
"Do ya think these pants make me look fat?" You say with a deep southern twang.
"Quite yer' whinin', they look fine."
I give you a slap on the shoulder, sending you off balance. Meanwhile, your pants are on the verge of ripping. The button is holding on for dear life as your fat ass strains the fabric. It only gets worse when the bulge in your pants starts to grow. You try to adjust it, but it only gets worse as your dick starts to snake down your pants leg.
"Oouuugghhh fuck!" You moan as your transformation slows.
"Now that's a man that'll make this family proud!"
"Y'think so?"
"You're built like a real breeder, like me an' pops." I slap you on the gut. "Now why don't you come have a word with me an' pops, we got somethin' to tell ya."
This arrogant bro twink had been causing trouble at your gym. He was loud, arrogant, rude, strutting around like he owned the place for weeks now since he joined, and of particular concern, he seemed to focus his aggression on anyone he perceived as gay. Something had to be done. One evening you decide to launch your attack. He had gone into the locker room, and you followed a few minutes later. He was taking a video of himself in the mirror, telling his girlfriend that heās getting so jacked he might have to leave her for a prettier, sexier woman. āNice biceps, man,ā you said in your deep, low voice. He turned around, aggression in full force, āwhat are you looking at, old man?ā You didnāt flinch, it was completely expected. āYou should respect your elders, especially those who are stronger, more powerful, and more masculine.ā He didnāt like that one bit. āWhat are you talking about, old man, Iām ten times the man you are.ā You took your shirt and shorts off, leaving only your jockstrap with a very prominent bulge on. His eyes flicked over your muscular, extremely hairy body, and your enormous bulge. āWhatā¦ youā¦ fuckā¦ā He was faltering, and that was all it took. You looked him in the eyes and started speaking slowly, your deep rumbling voice going into his head and taking control of his mind. After 5 minutes, you stopped. āWhy donāt we head to the steam room together?ā He still had a blank stare, but was able to reply, āsounds like fun.ā Thirty minutes you later emerged from the steam room, exhausted but invigorated from the triple breeding you delivered to his tight, virgin butt. He came out of the steam room after you. You could already see the effects. āApologies for interrupting you earlier, why donāt you continue videoing yourself in the mirror?ā He walked over slowly and resumed. The hair was growing even over the course of him making his short video. āSend it to your girlfriend,ā you commanded. He did, and a few seconds later his phone was exploding with texts and phone calls. āYou.re a gay, bald, hairy, hungry, bottom now who wants raw cum all the time, arenāt you?ā He nodded. āDonāt you feel so much better?ā He smiled, heading back to the steam room, waiting for you or someone else to give him what he desperately craves.Ā
broās been feelin a little tense lately. been havin some second thoughts about our little arrangement. about what iāve been feeding him. about the training files encouraging him to become nothing more than a big, dumb mindless bull
of course he was way into it at first. practically begged me to do it to him. looks like realityās starting to sink in a little too late for bull bro here. so horny, he canāt focus on his job. so foggy in the head, he hasnāt read a book in months. been dripping so much milk into his shorts, his meaty fore-hooves are startin to smell a little cheesy. dry humped his bed so fuckin hard, he busted the frame in half and now heās gotta sleep on the floor. when he goes out with his straight bros, only thing he wants to do is rut. spread the programming around, build a heard he can graze and bulk with. slow it down, big guy! got a single pen for you lined up, not openin a cattle farm! heās already proving a way bigger time sink that i intended. absolutely fuckin insatiable. needs to stop by my place six times a day to get milked. begs me to make it stop. says this isnāt wanted he wanted. uhā¦ yeah it was. whadja think was gonna happen, bro? think i wasnāt gonna mindfuck you into a big dumb horny animal?
standing tall, ready to charge, muscles pumped with his post-workout stiffy, his reactive mindās already been absorbed by the bull heās about to become. deep down, heās ready to moo, ready to surrender to the dumb meaty bovine within. but his conscious mindās still holdin out. still trying to pretend that heās still a man. you like fighting against it, bro? youāre gonna lose. best thing a bull can do is fight against his instinct toward captivity. all that muscle and wildness, begging to break free. craving to be contained. the insatiable paradox that leads a bull bro to sink deeper into bestial brutality, running in circles until heās totally cornered, shackled up and inevitably leashed. feels good to change like that, donāt it, bro? hope you had fun thrashing out. enjoy your new life, bull
āDonāt get me wrong, Iām cool with gay dudes and gay chicks but I just donāt understand why you guys need a whole month? Whatās there to celebrate? Itās not like we have a pride month for straight people.ā Kyle mused as he scuffed his trainer against the floor.
Garrett had to do his best not to immediately roll his eyes at his clueless roommate. āItās not just about being part of the LGBTQ. Itās about celebrating how far weāve and everyone that came before us have come. And how far we still need to go until we get real equality. Itās not just about celebrating how much we like being gay. Come on Kyleā¦ā Garrett did his best to explain things to Kyle but it was clear most of what he was saying went right over the straight skater broās head.
āI dunno brah. I feel like you guys have it pretty equal nowadays. I see gay dudes, like, everywhere.ā Kyle retorted, his obliviousness somehow making him sound dumber than he already was. It was clear he didnāt mean anything he was saying in a hateful or derogatory way. It was just the ignorance of a straight man shining bright.
āNot in the slightest. I wish that were true but weāre still a ways off equal rights.ā Garrett insisted. āI get itās probably hard to grasp if youāre not actually gay but please just trust me.ā
Kyle shrugged. āWhatever you say man. I still think itās a bit over the top. You do you though I guess.ā
Garrett watched as Kyle sauntered off towards his bedroom. He couldnāt help but sigh a little. He could swear theyād had this exact same debate last year during Pride month. And the year before that. Yet every time, no matter how well Garrett explained it, the reason as to why it was so important always seemed to fly over Kyleās head. Garrett liked the guy but Kyle really could be dense sometimes.
Unbeknownst to them both, a great and powerful warlock had been spying on them. Mr Wavell. Invisible as he usually was. Heād been in search of his next experiment and he couldnāt help but think heād found just the right guy in Kyle. He was cute for sure. Lean but very hairy from head to toe with some nice facial hair that really got Wavellās cock pumping. Not to mention that dumb skater bro attitude was enough to make Wavell want to bend him over the side of his bed right here and now before fucking him until the sun comes up.
Immediately Wavell began to think of all the things he could possibly do to Kyle. He could force him to swap bodies with Garrett. He could get him to hulk out of his baggy clothes. Perhaps even add some fat to go with all that hair and make him into a proper bear of a man. Or what if he aged Kyle up to his mid forties just to see how much of a daddy heād become in years to come. Kyle seemed like the type to age like fine wine after all. However, after the conversation heād just witnessed, Wavell soon landed on the perfect change for a man like this.
As Kyle laid on his bed scrolling through his phone, Wavell held out a hand towards him. Purple magic began to sparkle around his fingertips before shooting out towards the oblivious dolt before him. Kyle was none the wiser, his mortal eyes unable to see or detect the magic without Wavellās say so. Before long Kyleās entire body was wrapped in a soft purple glow as he continued to mindlessly scroll past images of half naked women mixed into his feed. The magic pulsed a few times around his figure before focusing down to concentrate on three precise points on his body.
His brain, his cock and his ass.
Kyle couldnāt help but shift around awkwardly on the bed as his ass began to transform first. It was the most subtle of the three but still necessary in Wavellās eyes. Those unremarkable fuzzy cheeks he had hidden away in his baggy shorts started to swell and perk up. Soon gaining a bubblier shape that would jiggle modestly with any step he took. Soon becoming a shapely and supple ass, the likes of which anyone would be tempted to smack just for the sake of watching it ripple.
The 27 year old was none the wiser to his first change. However he couldnāt help but grunt a little when the magic pulsing around his crotch began to morph his cock. All his life, Kyle had been blessed with a horse cock. It was part of the reason he always wore such baggy clothes. Anything too tight would run the risk of looking obscene with how large his manhood was. But that was about to change.
9 hefty inches. Thatās how big Kyleās dick was when he got excited. Even still a staggering 6 inches while soft. Enough to give any man all the confidence he needs in life. But now as Wavellās magic works its was in and around Kyleās prised male organ, that intimidating size began to slip away. Slowly losing inch after inch alongside some of its formerly impressive girth. Kyle barely noticed. Only scratching his groin in oblivious confusion while continuing to scroll his phone.
Before long Kyleās once mighty cock had shrunken down to about half of its former greatness. 5 inches hard and 3 inches soft. Much more modest. It was generous considering Wavell had all the power to give Kyle a tiny little micro dick but he decided not to be quite so cruel. Still it was a far cry from the cock Kyle had once had. It doesn't matter though. Soon enough Kyle wouldn't need a large impressive cock anyway.
With Kyleās cock and ass now changed, his brain was last on the chopping block. The magic swirling around the dome of his head began to intensify as it reached inside of his mind and wormed around until it found what it was looking for. Kyleās sexuality. The previous two changes had just been for Wavellās enjoyment. This one was what he was really in it for.
Kyle found himself feeling oddly faint and lightheaded and Wavellās magic systematically removed any attraction Kyle once had towards women. Draining him of any kind of sexual magnetism for the opposite sex until he was nothing more than a blank slate in that regard. Ready to be remodeled as the warlock saw fit.
Then came the fun part. Wavell had the pleasure of refilling Kyleās sexuality with a pure unbridled lust for cock. Before long his brain had become completely fogged over with thoughts and images of handsome men, both young and old. His heart raced as he failed to stop himself from feeling hot and flushed at the idea of touching another manās hairy chest or kissing his biceps. And of course sucking dick. Wavell would make sure to plant these desires so deep inside Kyleās brain that soon the mere idea of getting fucked by another man would feel like a necessity to him. Like it was something he simply couldnāt live without.
Kyle had become a writhing horny mess on the bed. His phone discarded to one side as he reached a hand down towards his crotch. His diminished cock was as stiff as could be and sensitive to the touch. He reached underneath the waist band to grip it gently. He shouldāve noticed how much smaller it was now but somehow as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft, it felt normalā¦
There was part of his mind that was trying to tell him that something was very wrong. Trying to remind him that he was a straight man despite how much he wanted to bust a nut at the thought of swallowing another dude's cum. Trying to remind him that he liked women as he arched his back at the idea of being speared up the ass by an enormous cock. His mortal brain did everything it could to warn him. But it wasnāt nearly enough to stand against the might of Mr Wavellās potent magic.
Soon enough Kyleās shorts were down around his ankles as he found himself jerking off furiously to the onslaught of hot men that now plagued his mind. Heād turned over on the bed so that his face was on the pillow with his ass up in the air while he reached underneath to touch himself. He envisioned some kind of hunk or daddy coming up behind him and rubbing their dick in between his thick hairy ass cheeks. Teasing his hole gently before finally sliding in and giving him the pounding of a lifetime. It was all he could think about as his former life as a straight man seemed to slip through his fingers.
Wavell nodded to himself as he watched, pleased with his handiwork as always. He absolutely couldāve left it there and moved on after taking some time to enjoy the sight. But when he thought of a way to make this even better, he just couldnāt help himself.
He left Kyle where he was in the bedroom before phasing through the walls and into the living room where Garrett was sat. He was flipping through the TV looking for something to watch, completely unaware of whatād happened to his roommate. The unsuspecting man was equally unaware of how the warlock was about to change him as well.
Mr Wavellās magic reached out towards Garrett similar to how itād reached Kyle. Coiling gently around Garrettās lean but fit frame until he was completely submerged in the warmth of Wavellās sparkling purple magic. Though, just like Kyle, he couldnāt see it. What he would see however was the transformation it was about to bestow upon him.
Garrettās change was no doubt going to be much more physical than Kyleās had been, evident by how the magic seemed to spread itself evenly across his entire body rather than focusing on any specific spots. Then, with a smirk, Wavell used his power to begin aging Garrett up.
Prior to this Garrett had always been just a couple years younger than Kyle, having turned 25 a few months back. But not anymore as Garrett found himself growing older by the second. Quickly rising up through his twenties and into his thirties. He had no idea what was happening to him at first. Only that he felt this bizarre build up of energy pulsing around his body in an oddly pleasurable reverberating wave. Hardly even noticing the way his skin began to look more weathered or the feeling of wrinkles starting to form around his eyes and forehead. Or even how his hairline started to recede more noticeably as he started to approach his forties.
Garrett let out a low and satisfied grumble as he allowed his head to fall back against the couch. He shouldāve questioned this weird and unnatural sensation but it felt too damn good. So much so that his eyes fluttered shut just dark brown hair began to see wisps of silver that didnāt waste any time multiplying as he continued along his forties. Even the mild hair on his chest and face started to gain a salt and pepper touch.
And finally Garrett reached his early fifties. Luckily for him, the rapid aging came to a screeching halt soon after. He was left looking like a delicious dad who most would agree was a dilf that could absolutely get it. Still lean and fit but now with a bit more mature edge. It was immediately clear that Garrett was just one of those men that age like fine wine. Only looking better as they look older. Wavell had just helped him skip to the good part. But he wasnāt finished.
āThereās still room to dad-ify you a little more I thinkā¦ā Wavell muttered to himself. So he urged his magic on just a little bit further to keep moulding Garrettās body.
The result of this was for Garrettās stomach to rumble loudly. It was an omen for what was to come as seconds later, his once slender physique swiftly began to swell with fat. His lean muscle softening slightly under layers of string capable flesh. His growing arms filled out the sleeves of his shirt slightly. Those ballooning thighs strained the seams of his pants. His once hard chest couldnāt help but sag ever so slightly. But most notably of all, his belly started to expand until he was left with a nice hefty dad gut.
Wavell made sure to add a few final touches like making sure to fill out Garrettās face with a little bit of chub as well as granting him a nice dad butt to match his belly. But even after adding all that sexy new weight to Garrettās frame, Wavell was still hungry for more dadification.
āHmmmmā¦ How about some extra fur.ā Wavell shrugged before snapping his fingers.
The magic around Garrett glowed brightly again. Then in an instant, newfound body hair began to sprout around his chubby new dad bod. Swirling around his chest and stomach the most but also giving his legs, ass and arms a good helping too. He still wasnāt quite as hairy as Kyle but he wasnāt far off. Especially as his beard grew fuller than ever before.
āAlmost perfect. Just one last thingā¦ā
The purple glow moved now and concentrated only on Garrettās groin. Swirling desperately around his bulge as it began to flood his dick with transformative energy similar to whatād happened to Kyle. Only Garretās cock didnāt get smaller. Quite the opposite. It started to grow rapidly. Getting longer and girthier while his balls get fatter and fuller. Not stopping until Garrett was carrying an enormous drooling daddy cock between his legs.
Wavell grinned. āThere. Now thatās a daddy.ā
As the magic finally began to dissipate, so did the warm pleasurable sensation thatād been keeping Garrett distracted. As such he found himself opening his eyes again slowly only to look wide eyed down at his new form.
āW-w-w-what the f-FUCK!ā He roared in a panic. Even his voice was different. More gravely and aged. His hands flew to his midsection, grabbing his belly in disbelief. He was lost for words with no idea how to react beyond simply squeezing his gut a few times to confirm it was real. Every instinct was screaming at him that it was impossible. And yetā¦ he couldnāt even remember what his body was supposed to look like? Wavell had already taken the step of removing most of Garrettās knowledge of his younger self. Before long heāll believe heās always been this thick older daddy. But a little extra push to help get his mind off things couldnāt hurt right?
At last Wavell undid the invisibility shimmer on himself, allowing Garrett to see the warlock standing before him.
āWhoa!? W-where did you come from?!? Who are you?!?!ā Garrett shouted in a panic, understandably so. Unfortunately he wouldnāt get an answer to his question.
Before he had a chance to wrap his mind around what the hell was happening, the suited stranger before him reached out and grabbed either side of Garrettās head. Mr Wavellās eyes began to glow a deep violet as he cradled Garrettās head in his hands. Garrett sank under his control in a matter of seconds. Nobody could resist his gaze.
āYou love being a daddy. Ultimately itās your life's purpose, isnāt it?ā Wavell told Garrett like it was a fact.
āI love beingā¦ a daddy. Itās my purposeā¦ā Garrett repeated back to Wavell
āAnd right now your boy is sitting all alone in his room, begging for someone to go and satisfy his hole. He needs your cock Garrett. He needs daddyās cock.ā Wavellās words sunk in nice and deep.
āMy boyā¦ he needs my cockā¦ā Garrett repeated again, dick hardening slightly against his pants in response.
āYou want to be a good daddy donāt you?ā The warlock asked.
Garrett nodded slowly but surely.
āThen get in there and fill your boy with a nice fat load to show him just how much he matters to you. Understand?ā Wavell smiled.
āYesā¦ sir.ā Garrett confirmed.
Wavell leaned in and kissed Garrett on the forehead āGood man. I know youāll do well.ā He said before slowly pulling his hands back and releasing Garrett from his gaze. āNow get in there.ā
Garrett didnāt waste a second. He practically leapt up from the couch before making his way down the hallway towards Kyleās room. Wavell followed behind him, watching as Garrett opened the door only to be greeted by a glorious sight. Kyleās ass was still up in there air, waving side to side as he jerked himself off. Who could possibly resist an invitation like that. Garrett couldnāt stop himself from pouncing on Kyleās furry ass. The first thing he did was stuff his face nice and deep before eating out his hole like a pro.
At first Kyle was a little confused as to what was happening. The hot daddy thatād just walked into his room looked weirdly like his roommate, only older and fatter. Was it Garrettās dad he wondered? He was too honey to keep questioning it though. All he knew was that the universe had blessed him with a hot daddy who was eager to fulfil his need for cock. And he welcomed it readily.
After recasting the invisibility shimmer on himself, Wavell took a seat on a nearby chair next to the bed. Watching tentatively as Garrett worked his way to finally plunging his huge dad cock inside Kyleās hole. The sensation of which caused Kyleās much smaller dick to pulse harder than it ever couldāve from masturbation. Before long Kyleās face was buried deep into his pillow while Garrett made sure to drive his cock down to the hilt with every mighty thrust. More than eager to breed and claim his new boy.
Wavell smiled. He couldnāt help but feel like these two were going to enjoy their lives a hell of a lot more now. And as for Kyle and his attitude towards pride month, itās probably safe to say that he might have a change of tone by next year when heās going to parades and celebrating with his new daddy.
After hours and hours on end staring at the spiral, letting the flashing words enter his subconscious and endlessly edging turning that mind of his into mush one word popped up on the screen
CUM
Jakeās mind shattered into pieces as his body convulsed and pushed a bit spurt of cum onto his chest. With each spurt he felt the last bits of his mined being pushed away, shot out to never be found again. Jake isnāt Jake anymore, heās a totally blank slate now to be moulded to his sirs will
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Alright. Iāve seen a lot of requests about turning cocky guys into twinks ā totally fair. But Iād like to ask for the opposite, or almost that.
My favorite stories of yours are the ones where some poor guy is in the wrong place at the wrong time and ends up becoming a cocky bastard (Gridirion Brew, Make Sense, Gone Fishing).
āIāll see you tomorrow, buddy,ā Adam slowly shut the door to his best man's room. āDrink some water before you pass out this time.ā
āYeah, yeah,ā somebody groaned from inside. āYouāre about to be someoneās husband and still sound like my mom.ā
Adam shook his head, smiling as he headed toward the elevators. His bachelor party had turned into exactly what he expected: too much drinking, too much yelling, and the people he loved most acting like complete idiots together... Heād loved every second of it.
āWouldnāt trade those idiots for anything,ā Adam muttered as he stepped into the elevator, scrolling through reels Claire had sent him.
The doors had barely started closing before hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.
āWait! Hold it!ā
āGot you.ā Adam stuck his arm out automatically.
āOh, thank god,ā the stranger breathed, his eyes lighting up the moment he saw Adam. āYou seriously just saved my evening. I was starting to think Iād have to go upstairs alone.ā
Adam laughed awkwardly, āI think you mightāve misunderstood something, Iām not looking forā¦ā
āShhhhh.ā The guy stepped closer. āThatās okay. Youāre gonna make me feel really fucking good tonight, stud.ā
Adam blinked. āWhat?ā
āName's Nico,ā he said lazily. āDonāt ruin this for me.ā
Before Adam could answer, Nico leaned forward and kissed him. Adam's hands came up to shove him away, but he froze.
āIā¦ sorry, I think you got the wrong...ā
Then Adam looked at him again, words catching in his throat. His eyes dropped to Nicoās ass in those tight black jeans.
"You like?"
āOh...ā Adam swallowed hard. āNo, I... I shouldnātā¦ā His thoughts raced. āIām not into guys. Iām getting marriedā¦ā
āOh fuckā¦ā Adam panted suddenly as his hand grabbed a fistful of Nicoās ass.
Nico smiled instantly. āThere you go.ā
Nico's hands slipped beneath Adamās shirt, cool palms dragging over his stomach and chest before squeezing a growing pec. Adamās breath caught instantly, the kiss turning rougher before he even realized it.
āMmmā¦ fuck,ā Nico sighed against his mouth.
Adam groaned, fingers kneading the firm curve of Nicoās ass, while rough stubble grew along his jaw with every slow squeeze.
āYouāre really into this now.ā
āNoā¦ Nico, I canātā¦ā Adam broke away, face flushed, hands still on Nico's ass. āJesus Christā¦ Iām getting marriedā¦ā
āShhhh.ā Nico smirked, sliding his hands up Adam's shirt and through the hair spreading across his chest, āOh my god,ā Nico breathed. āYou feel so fucking good already.ā
āFuckā¦ā Adam gripped his ass harder as nails scratched down his back. āI need disā¦ā The words hit his ears wrong. āNoā¦ what de hell...?ā
"Follow me, big guy."
And he did. The second the elevator doors opened, Adam followed. Right to Nico's room. The guilt twisted hard through his stomach.
āClaire...ā Adam shuddered. āCan never know... about disā¦ fuckā¦ she canātā¦ā
"Oh she never will." Nico giggled and pulled Adam into his hotel room.
Clothes were quickly discarded and Adam groaned as Nico's smooth bare skin pressed against his increasingly bulkier, hairier, and sweatier form.
āFuckā¦ā Nicoās hands slid over the thickening muscle in Adamās arms, āI needed a man like you tonight.ā He buried his face against Adamās increasingly hairier pit and inhaled. āMmmā¦ you smell incredible.ā
With a grunt, he shoved Nico against a wall, hand wrapping around his bare ass. Warm skin flexed beneath his palm, impossibly soft without the denim in the way... smooth, firm, and perfect in a way Adam had never thought about another man's ass before.
āOh fuckā¦ā Adam groaned shakily against Nicoās throat. āYa Allahā¦ you're drivin' me crazyā¦ā
Nico smiled lazily while grinding up against him. āMmm. Been thinking about you fucking me since the elevatorā¦ā
āYeahā¦ā Adam breathed heavily. āYou... like dis? You want dis?" Adam climbed over him, their eyes locking as dark brown rings spread slowly through Adamās blue irises.
āFuckā¦ā Nico's hands slid across Adamās sweaty, hairier pecs, āThatās itā¦ come here, big guyā¦ā
āFuckā¦ā Adam tightened his grip on Nicoās hips. āDis isnāt meā¦ 'uqsim, hadha lays 'ana." Adam froze... that language... he didn't...
"Huh? Wh... fuck... Wh-what did you say?" Nico smirked and looked over his shoulder, "Oh fuck..."
Adam felt it before he saw it. His cock throbbed and grew to a size beyond anything Adam ever possessed. His cock head emerging from a sheath of foreskin he knew shouldn't be there.
"Dere is no way..." He whispered, "It's so..." He moaned as he grew another inch, cock now pressing against Nico's tight entrance.
"Please... I need it." Nico begged, "It's all I need tonight."
Adam gasped suddenly as his pecs filled with muscle. And as they did, his new chest hairs suddenly curled longer and darkened toward black against his heavier muscle.
āFuckā¦ā Claire used to fall asleep with her head against his lean chest. But these heavier pecs were damp with sweat and dark curling hair now, nothing like the body she loved. āYa Allahā¦ look at disā¦ it just keeps gettinā thickerā¦ā
āMmmā¦ā Nico moaned, glancing back at him.
āOh fuckā¦ whatās dat smell?ā Adam grimaced.
āThat'sā¦ you big guy."
āMustaheelā¦ā Adam muttered, lifting an arm and grimacing at the thick musk clinging to his sweat-soaked, matted pit hair, āY-you like disā¦?ā
"Fuckā¦ yeah. Smell like a real manā¦ mmm, so fucking hotā¦" Nico whimpered.
Adam shuddered hard at the words. Claire used to steal his hoodies because they smelled clean and comforting. She wouldāve recoiled from this heavy masculine musk pouring off him now.
"You're perfect..." Nico groaned, pressing his ass against Adam's erection, "Just... fuck me already."
āWallahā¦ā Adam nearly obliged, but Claireās smile flashed suddenly through his mind, "What de fuck is wrong wit me?ā
He dragged a shaking hand through his hair, catching on something unfamiliar along his cheek. He touched his jaw again instinctively and recoiled. Stubble. Thick, perfect stubble. He'd always joke about never being able to grow a real beard. Claire always told him she loved his clean-shaven look.
"How de fuck....?" He watched as dark hair thickened across swelling forearms and olive blotches crept slowly over pale skin, "Wallah?"
The mirror caught him briefly and he froze. Damp blond hair darkened toward black while brown swallowed the blue in his eyes. Those eyes Claire adored. The hair she loved threading through her fingers.
"I... I want you inside me..." Nico moaned, "J-just..."
Adam looked down and back to the mirror. The man staring back at him still carried traces of Adam in places, but not enough. Not enough for his friends or best man to recognize him. Barely enough for Claire. Even his own mother would hesitateā¦ And panic rose in his chest. He just wanted to go back downstairs, back to his friends, back to the man Claire loved, back to being Adam again. Because right now, Adam didnāt feel like Adam anymore.
He grunted suddenly before he could even process that thought. His cock leaked as a low groan vibrated deep through his chest before he could stop it.
āYa Allahā¦ā His rough hands spread Nicoās ass cheeks. āYouāre gonna take all dis for me, yeah?ā The words hadnāt felt chosen. Neither had the smug grin slowly pulling across his face while his heavier body settled more naturally over Nico.
āMmmā¦ there you are...ā Nico whispered softly, sounding relieved.
He couldn't hold back any longer. With a guttural growl, he buried his cock deep into Nico's ass. The twink let out a choked cry, back arching sharply as he was impaled.
Thrust.
Dense muscle any gym bro would be proud of settled over him in all the right places. Stronger hands pinned Nico down instinctively while his pace roughened.
āFuckā¦ ya Allahā¦ā He stared down at himself breathlessly. āBroā¦ look at deseā¦ fuckā¦ Havinā a body like dis feels so fuckin' goodā¦ā
āMmmā¦ trust me...ā Nico whimpered. āFeels even better underneath you.ā
Thrust.
Warm olive swallowed the last pale traces across his skin while heavy musk and cheap cologne clung permanently to his body.
āMmmā¦ such a slut... for my scent.ā He grunted.
āFuckā¦ā Nico whimpered. āI wanna bury my face in your pits so badā¦ā
Thrust.
The last traces of his old facial features disappeared forever behind the thick beard, dark brown eyes, and a permanent cocky grin devoid of his usual warmth.
āMmmā¦ datās right,ā He smirked when Nico stared up at him breathlessly. āKeep lookinā at me like dat while I fuck youā¦ā
Thrust.
āWh-whatās your name, big guyā¦?ā
āKareem,ā he answered immediately.
āMhmmā¦ that name...is... always popularā¦ā
āDen scream it for me."
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
Kareem slapped Nico's jiggling ass, āMmmā¦ datās right, habibiā¦ take it,ā he groaned smugly, "Fuck... Dis hole was... made for my... fat Arab cock... wasn't it?"
Thrust, thrust, thrust, thrust...
Kareem grunted, pace quickening. The engagement ring felt uncomfortable around his swollen finger, so he instinctively pulled it off and tossed it somewhere in the room.
āMmmā¦ fuckin' slutā¦ā Kareem groaned, "Ya Allahā¦ look at disā¦ all dis fuckinā muscleā¦ you fuckin' love it.ā He slowed down, "You want me to finish?" He teased, "Want Kareem to fill you?"
"Pl-please..." Nico moaned into the mattress, "Kareem... oh fuck!"
"Ya Allahā¦ you needed dis dick so bad.ā Hands squeezing Nicoās hip harder. āSlut gets one real Arab guy smellinā like dis on top of him and forgets his own nameā¦ā
Kareem buried himself deep inside Nico's ass, followed by a guttural roar as his cock erupted, flooding Nico's insides with thick, hot seed.Ā
"Take it all, bitch... fuckin' take it!" he growled, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.
As the last pulses subsided, Kareem collapsed forward, his sweaty chest pressing against Nico. His softening cock still inside Nico. And Kareem's eyes closed.
-------------------
He woke slowly beneath tangled sheets, groaning as dense muscle shifted across his chest and arms. He scratched at the dark hair on his chest, his nose twitching at the scent of sweat, cologne... of him. For a few moments, he stared at his body, processing the sight.
āYa Allahā¦ā Kareem smirked to himself, āDat twink aināt ever recoverinā from meā¦ā
āOh, youāre awake.ā Nico glanced up from his phone. āYeah... you're one of my best works yet...ā
āWhat da fuck does dat mean?ā
āNothing.ā Nico shrugged casually. āAnyway, you should leave... like now.ā The words landed and the larger man froze.
Kareem blinked, sitting up slowly. āW-waitā¦ā Uncertainty cracked faintly through the swagger for the first time. āWhere do I go? What should I...?ā
āAlways the same questions.ā Nico smirked, unable to recall the number of times he'd heard them, āI dunno. Thereās a gym down the street? Download Grindr? Yeah... Youāre hot. Someoneāll take you in.ā
āDatās it?ā
āI donāt really care.ā
------------
Kareem stared in the mirror of a public restroom, wresting with the sense that he was supposed to be somewhere else doing something important. But without a phone, wallet, or anything else, he was lost.
But then he caught him. Some twink washing his hands, staring at him. And Kareem knew that look. The lust... A cocky grin spread across Kareemās face.
āMmmā¦ you keep lookinā at me like dat, Iām gonna start thinkinā you want somethinā.ā
The guy flushed immediately. āS-sorry, I justā¦ā
Kareem smiled lazily. Cute. Nervous. Kareem would have him wrapped around his finger easily.
āMmmā¦ yeah. Youāll do just fine for now, habibi. You got a place nearby or what?ā
āMate, youāve got to get out of the water ā the beachās closed off!ā
āOh, it doesnāt matter ā at least thereās nothing lying about here, and the waterās so beautifully clear!ā Chris called out to his friends, who had been waiting at the top of the cliff overlooking the beach. Ever since the bike ride had started, Chris had needed to cool off. Heād already run out of water; it had evaporated on his skin after heād poured it over himself.
No sooner had he spotted the beach than heād set off running ā and hopped into the cool waves in his full cycling gear.
But he didnāt know what lurked in the waves. An ancient water god, longing to return to the world, to slip into a fresh body, to wreak havoc amongst mortals. For no sooner had Chris stood in the cool waves than the godās ghostly arms wrapped around him and his essence penetrated Chrisās body.
With a sharp tearing sound, the expensive cycling kit ripped apart ā the god didnāt need a skinny cyclist; he needed physical strength. Muscles filled Chrisās swaying body; bones bent and broke and fused back together. His chest bulged forward, his skin stretching, his arms swelling, hanging further and further away from his ribcage as the space between the two parts of his body widened. His shoulders cracked as Chris stared, as if in a daze, at his swelling arms.
The god was far from finished with him. His voice grew ever louder in Chrisās head, like a mighty roar of crashing waves that seemed to wash away Chrisās own thoughts. It was the sprouting on his skin that threw Chris completely off balance and allowed the god to gain power over the hands of his new body. With no control over his own limbs, Chrisās hands massaged his chest, where a dense jungle of dark hair was sprouting. Chris gasped, unable to defend himself ā unwilling and yet willing at the same time to let this treatment of his body happen. Long, dark brown strands curled across his upper body, filling the space beneath his arms, wandering down to his groin. Chris feltā¦ as if something within him was becoming complete. āThatās right,ā it whispered in the back of his mind, like the gentle murmur of the surf. āThis is what I look like.ā
āIā¦,ā Chris whispered, his voice breaking as he spoke. His sense of self shifted as his vocal cords lengthened and his Adamās apple grew larger, before disappearing beneath a thick beard. āThatās me,ā rumbled a voice from Chrisās throat, his hands all over his body. The dark brown hair on his chin was now several inches long, thick and full, not a patch of skin to be seen within.
Chris no longer noticed how a pair of blue swimming trunks materialised from the tatters of his neon-yellow cycling outfit, stretching tight across his thighs, the hairs on which danced in the gentle waves of the water. He was no longer Chris. No, that pathetic little boy vanished, as if into a deep cave on the seabed several thousand metres below.
Pride and self-confidence simply oozed from the pores of the man the water was shaping there. Phorkys now closed his eyes as his hands glided over his hairy body. One last time, his hands buried themselves in his chest hair, then he snapped his eyes open. They glowed blue. In a booming voice that made the waves tremble, he roared his name. Then he spun round abruptly and turned to the horrified mortals on the cliff who had witnessed his return.
With his hand on his crotch and a lascivious gleam in his eyes, he pointed at them. āCome on over; my companions are looking for their return... ā or the sea will comeā¦ to take you away.ā
āAlright sir, your total will be $134.18 today. Cash or Card?ā
āNeither. I usually donāt need to pay for things like this.ā
I was befuddled by the forwardness, āIām sorry sir, but you are going to have to pay for your groceries today. Cash, card, or please get out of my line.ā
āIām sure we could come to anā¦ arrangement.ā In the middle of the store he took off his thin tee shirt.
He flashed a charming smile as he flexed his muscles, his torso on full display.
āIām sorry sir, this is very inappropriate. I am refusing service. Please exit the store.ā
āWhat, no oneās looking besides you. Itās just you and me right now baby,ā his voice had gone low, smooth as silk, ācome on, canāt you cut me a deal?ā He practically shoved his musky body in my face. I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead. āYou do me a favor, Iāll do one for you.ā
Something about this felt strange. My face was flush as my clothes began to feel tight against my body. My polo suddenly was too warm, too tight, too scratchy against my body. My pants felt close to bursting. Even though my dick was straining against its tight enclosure, begging to be set free, I felt the weight in my pocket more. My wallet was pressed tight against my thigh, a thick square almost squeezing out of my pocket. Unconsciously I had been tracing the outline. He had noticed.
āThatās it babe, pull it out.ā
He shifted positions, placing his hand firmly on the wall behind me and began teasing. Treating me to a blast of his damp pits.
āMake your daddy proud.ā
He was treating me like a child, āPlease sir I-Iā
āNo please and begging babe. Just hand it over to me.ā
I couldnāt resist any longer, āYe-yes Sir.ā
I was already holding the wallet. I fiddled for a card-
āThe whole thing.ā
I handed him my wallet. He flashed a winning grin as he pulled out my driverās license.
āAwww, such a good photo of you babe.ā He flicked the plastic back at me. The photo lookedā¦ wrong somehow. Too energetic. Too bright. But it was hard to focus. Under the heat of his presence and the heavy musk I was almost panting. He pulled out a green credit card.
āWhatās my pin?ā
I almost cried, ā7352.ā
āGood boy,ā he swiped the card and took a step back. As the weight of him shifted I felt more relaxed, but somehow far emptier. āYoung guys like you canāt be trusted with money anyways.ā
A shiver ran down my spine, as my body stretched and settled. Energy pulsed through me. I hadnāt felt this way in years. āWouldā¦would you like a receipt Sir?ā
āNo receipt. Thanks for asking. Youāre such a good boy,ā the words burned in my ears. I was sure I looked like a wide eyed fool, but I was waiting, hoping he would sayā¦
āOh, you can cum for me now.ā He said it.
I felt a wave crash over my body as he said it. I ripped out of my shirt as I grasped for my dick, too late to stop the thick damp spot from forming on the front of my khakis.
āHopefully that body reminds you of your Master.ā
āYes sirā¦ thank you sirā¦ā
āI will be keeping this.ā He slid his wallet into his pocket, āAnd I expect to be able to use this whenever I need to.ā
āYes sirā¦ā I watched as his beautiful body disappeared under his shirt again. Mine lay in tatters on the ground around me.
āGoodbye babe,ā and with a dazzling smile he left.
āThank you for shopping with usā¦ā I shouted after him, far too loud and quickly.
As I looked around me, I couldnāt help but feel a deep shame and deep lust for what had just happened. My mind, body, and soul had realigned in just a few short minutes. There was only one question to ask myself,
āShitā¦ what am I going to tell my wife?ā
A quickie I wrote this morning, let me all know if you like it. Thank you all for the support, notes, comments, reblogs, likes, etc.
Bro one of my frat brothers came back from a trip and he seems different. His skin is darker, he has a beard, and I think I heard him speaking Arabic. I heard him on the phone saying something like āthe change will happen soonā. Iām kind of worried
...
"I don't know who you are, dude. How did you even get this number?"
*hangs up*
...
It had been a week since that phone call, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Jake. He had always been a bit of a wild card, but this was different. How could he have changed so much in such a short amount of time? At the start, you thought maybe he'd just got a tan or something, but the beard was harder to explain. There's no way someone like him could have grown that beard in just two weeks without some kind of help. And the Arabic? That was just bizarre. You had never heard him speak anything other than English before. No way a big idiot like him could have learned a new language that quickly.
Though he was still your bro, right? You had to believe that. You really had to.
You tried to talk to him about it, but he just brushed it off and said he was fine. Same old Jake, just with a new look. You couldn't help but feel like there was something more going on, though. He seemed more serious, more focused. He spent more time grooming himself and hitting the gym alone instead of hanging out with the guys.
Life went on like usual. Every day, you'd wake up, eat your favourite cereals for breakfast, and head to class with some of your frat brothers. You'd go to the gym together, grab lunch together, and then hit up the local bar for some drinks at night. But Jake was always doing his own thing. He'd skip out on group activities and spend more time alone. You couldn't help but feel like he was hiding something from all of you...
It was about a week or two later when you felt something. You woke up one morning and your head was pounding. You looked in the mirror. Same old you, but you kinda felt weird. Maybe it was just a hangover from the night before? Whatever, you thought. Time to get up and eat some breakfast.
You entered the common kitchen and saw Jake sitting at the table. He didn't even look up at you. He just stared at his phone, scrolling through something. Grabbing the milk inside the fridge, you poured yourself a bowl of cereal and sat down across from him. Every time you grabbed a spoonful of cereal, you couldn't help but notice how he was staring at you. Really unsettling... but that was basically it. Your head felt much better after eating though, so you just tried to ignore it. After that interaction, you went about your day as usual, though you felt a bit weird...
You hit the gym with Mike and Ryan like usual. The weights felt good - lighter than normal, actually. The rest of the day was normal, you went to class, hung out with the guys, and then hit up the bar at night.
...
That night you woke up twice with a raging hard-on.
Not able to ignore it, you grabbed your phone in the dark, loaded up your usual porn - the kind you always jerked to in secret - and started stroking... but nothing. Your cock stayed rock hard, leaking all over your fist, but the video kinda felt boring. You went back to your feed, scrolling through more and more porn until you found something that caught your eye: a little twink being fucked by 2 guys at the same time. Usually you weren't that into twinks, but something about this video made you curious. You clicked play.
The twink's ass was so tight, you could almost feel his heat through your phone screen. Your eyes widened as you watched a thick cock slide in and out of his ass, stretching it to its limit. You couldn't help but think about how good it would feel to be inside that tight little hole. It made your own dick throb harder than ever, until you eventually came. Very weird... You'd never been into twinks before, but you were too tired to think about it and fell back to sleep...
The next morning the headache was back, and worse. You stumbled straight to the kitchen, grabbed the first thing you saw in the fridge to quench your thirst (some milk), and poured yourself a huge glass. Chugged it in four gulps. Relief washed over you so fast you actually moaned a little bit.
"Fuck... that's better..."
Jake was at the table again, scrolling on his phone. He glanced up this time, eyes flicking over you with that same unsettling smirk.
"Morning, bro. Enjoying the milk?"
"Very funny dude... my head's hurting like hell... I just need to hydrate", you replied taking another sip of milk. Your headache had subsided enough that you could think clearly again.
The rest of the week felt almost normal. Classes, gym, meals, hanging out with the bros - everything rolled on like usual. Jake kept doing his own thing, but you stopped pressing him about it. Whatever. Bros change sometimes.
The only things that weren't normal were the headaches and the constant need to jerk off.
Every single morning the pounding was there the second you woke up, like your skull was trying to split open. You'd drag yourself out of bed, splash water on your face, and the pressure would ease a little once you got moving. By evening it would start creeping back, but you powered through.
The horniness was worse though. Way worse. You'd be in class, trying to focus on the lecture, but your cock would be throbbing in your pants, leaking pre-cum onto your thighs. It was like you'd hit puberty again and couldn't control it. You jerked off four, sometimes five times a day, each time taking more than before to reach climax.
You also started noticing other weird things around the frat...
Mike had always been the big jock of the house, but lately he looked extra pumped after every workout. You started questioning if he'd hopped on gear or something, though it was probably just your imagination. He looked bigger, stronger, manlier. You could even tell he'd started letting his facial hair grow in, even though he always shaved every single morning. And the sweat... fuck, he was always drenched in it now, pits smelling nastier and thicker than ever before, like pure raw musk. He did look hot as fuck though.
Then there was Ryan...
Ryan, Ryan, Ryan... the frat's charming party bro. He used to be the frat's resident stud, always hitting on girls at parties and making sure everyone knew his name. But lately he seemed different. He'd been showing up late for nights out, sometimes not even bothering to show up at all so he could go lift at the gym alone. His skin had this warm glow lately, and he seemed so fuckin' different - way more jacked than before - even though it was clearly still him. You didn't know he could grow a beard like that, let alone that he had chest hair now. All of it was so damn confusing.
Finally there was Tyler...
Tyler was one of the smartest guys in the frat, always acing his classes and doing well on exams despite looking like a bodybuilder. But lately you couldn't help but notice he'd been acting a little different too, like his mind had been completely blown by something. Usually you could find him either buried in his books or at the gym working out, but now he'd just slouch around the house shirtless, watching braindead TV like a total idiot for hours. You didn't know he was that fucking hairy under his shirt. The guy used to be a straight-A nerd and now he just looked like a lazy, hairy, half-naked slob zoning out on the couch. It was all very fucking strange... and for some reason you kept catching yourself staring at his chest way longer than you should.
It wasn't just them either. Pretty much all the other guys in the house had been acting a little different too. The vibe around the place was changing. Some guys seemed more aggressive than usual, like they were itching for a fight. Others were more withdrawn, like they were lost in their own heads. It just felt off, and you didn't know why, but you knew it had to be connected to Jake and his trip somehow. You just couldn't figure out how...
Until four nights later.
It was 2 AM. The headache slammed you awake like a fucking hammer to the skull, your cock already half-hard and leaking into your boxers. You crept downstairs in the dark, desperate for something to take the edge off. A faint light glowed from the kitchen.
Jake was standing in front of the fridge in nothing but shorts. You looked down and saw his hand grabbing the milk jug. On his other hand though, you could see something huge... You could see it... it was... his cock! His shorts were shoved down, his fat brown cock out and leaking. You watched, frozen in the doorway, as he stroked himself slowly, grunting low, and then blew a thick rope of cum straight into the jug.
"Jake... what the fuck?" you whispered.
He turned, not even surprised. A cocky grin spread across his face. His body looked huge under the fridge light - deep bronze skin, heavy pecs covered in dark hair, full beard framing his jaw, cock still dripping. It's like he'd doubled in size since he'd got back from the trip.
"About time you saw habibi."
His voice had a thick accent you'd never noticed before.
"Been doing this every night since I got back. Nasl Sheikh straight from the source.... You've all been getting a little taste for two weeks now."
Your stomach dropped. "What did you do to them?" you demanded, stepping closer even though your head was still pounding. "Mike, Ryan, Tyler... All the guys are acting weird. What the fuck did you do?"
Jake laughed, deep and easy. He set the jug down and looked you dead in the eye.
"You've all been drinking my milk every day for two weeks. Cereal. Shakes. Coffee. What do you not understand bitch?"
"That's not p-possible. Turn them back-"
Your voice died as Jake reached out and grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his dark brown stare.
Your skin had this warm bronze glow now - not the pale white you were used to seeing. Your chest looked fuller, hairier. Your hair seemed darker, messier. You hadn't noticed any of it. Not really. The headaches, the endless jerking off, the way everything felt... off. You'd been too busy watching the other guys to notice the changes in yourself. But now you could see it. You were changing too. You were becoming one of them.
"The nasl is already in you too" Jake said softly, stepping closer so his musky scent washed over you.
"That's why the headaches every morning. That's why your old fag porn doesn't work as well any more. You think I didn't know you liked men? You were always a little different, a little weaker than the rest of us. Most boys around here fooled around a bit. But you? It was so obvious. That soft white-boy brain of yours is melting nice and slow too. Gonna make you a real man. A straight breeder. Just like you should have been from the start."
Your heart hammered. You wanted to argue, but your cock was throbbing harder than ever, leaking down your thigh.
Jake poured you a full glass from the jug.
"Drink."
You stared at the thick white liquid for a long second. Then you took it. Drank it down in one greedy go and...
Better. You felt so much better already.
The thick, salty-creamy liquid slid down your throat and settled heavy in your gut like it belonged there. Your skin started tingling hard, your muscles felt warm and swollen, and your cock - already half-hard - surged to full mast, throbbing painfully against your boxers and leaking like a faucet.
"Fuck..."
Jake grinned wide, that smug look never leaving his face.
"Good. You will be my wingman from now on, brother. You want to be a REAL man after all, don't you?"
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. You wanted to say no, to refuse, to fight back, but you couldn't. Your mind was too focused on the aching pain coming from your boner. You needed to unload fast.
"Keep drinking my seed every day and you'll be a REAL man in no time. Strong. Dumb. Ready to breed. Make sure the other bros drink their fill too." He gave your aching bulge a light tap. "Now go take care of that. You're dismissed."
You didn't answer. You just turned around and stumbled back upstairs with your legs shaking. You barely made it to your room before you ripped your boxers down and started furiously jerking your cock. A video with a twink was still open on your phone. You went right back to it, stroking hard, imagining sliding into that tight hole and breeding it deep. It still worked... but something felt different now. Your brain kept twisting the fantasy. What if that tight little hole wasn't an ass? What if it was a pussy? Wet, warm, gripping you different. The thought made your dick throb so hard it hurt.
You switched tabs fast, searching for "twink with pussy" and suddenly you were watching trans male porn - boys with tight little pussies getting fucked. It felt wrong... but your hand wouldn't stop moving. You pictured yourself pounding one of them, stretching that pussy wide, flooding it until cum leaked out. You came so hard you saw stars, thick ropes painting your abs while you moaned like a bitch in heat.
...
The rest of your week turned into a slow, sweaty, horny haze.
Your stubble came in thicker and darker every morning, no matter how many times you shaved. At the gym your shirts felt tighter across the chest, your arms and thighs filling out faster than they ever had. Sweat poured off you in buckets, and your pits smelled horribly, the same nasty musk the other guys were starting to carry. Your cock felt heavier in your hand every time you jerked off - each time longer, thicker, with less foreskin, and more sensitive than ever before.
You kept drinking the milk anyway - you had to - every single day.
By the end of the week the trans stuff started feeling a little flat on your cock. Your brain kept pushing further. The trans dudes turned into real girls in your head - thick thighs, bouncing tits, dripping wet pussies begging to be bred. You swapped to straight porn almost unconsciously, stroking to it, imagining yourself slamming balls-deep into some curvy bitch, pumping her full of Arab seed until it leaked out.
You tried to fight it at first, but it was useless. Your white-boy brain was already mush from all the Nasl Sheikh you consumed. Your brain felt slower, fuzzier, happier just thinking about lifting, praying, and breeding. It felt so good to be a breeder - to imagine yourself as the alpha male, the one that could make bellies swell and babies come out. You could feel your balls tightening just thinking about it - thinking about spreading your virile musky seed, breeding more cocky alpha studs like you.
The headaches stopped after that. Not because the nasl had worn off - fuck no. It was because your skull had finally finished reshaping itself. Your brain felt lighter now, smoother, like all the old complicated shit had been melted down and poured out through your cock. The last scraps of your old self burned away completely. No more confusion. No more hiding who you really were. Just pure, simple, alpha need flooding your slower, happier brain.
You rolled out of bed and caught your reflection in the mirror on the way to the bathroom. The guy staring back wasn't the soft white frat bro who'd made that first nervous phone call weeks ago. Your chest was a solid slab of muscle covered in a dense rug of black hair that trailed down over abs you could actually see now, disappearing into a treasure trail that led straight to the fat, circumcised Arab cock between your thighs. It was thicker than your wrist even soft, the head already glistening with a bead of pre. Your balls were bigger too, hanging low and full, churning out the same potent seed that had turned every single one of your bros.
Downstairs the kitchen smelled like home.
"Morning, brother" Jake - or Khalid as he called himself now - said with his now deep and accented voice.
Mahmoud (Mike) grabbed the jug, gave it a shake, and poured everyone a tall glass. You took yours without thinking and drank deep - three long, greedy gulps of warm, salty, ultra-thick homemade Nasl Sheikh. It slid down your throat like it belonged there, settling heavy in your gut and spreading heat through every vein. Your cock surged to full hardness instantly, slapping up against your abs with a wet smack.
You set the glass down, wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, and let out a low, satisfied groan that came out half in Arabic.
"Wallahi... feels fucking perfect, bros."
The rest of the house was the same now. Every single frat brother - bigger, darker, hairier, dumber, and hornier. The common areas smelled like musk, sweat, and fresh cum. The fridge was stocked with the group's nightly nasl every single night. Nobody questioned it any more. Nobody wanted to go back. Why would they? This felt right. Strong. Simple. Masculine.
You were Yusuf now - a loud, dumb, hairy, straight Arab alpha. Big muscles, big balls, big ego. Obsessed with lifting, praying, and breeding every tight pussy you could find.
"Enough standing around like pussies", you barked at the other bros. "We're going out tonight. I want fresh pussy. I'm breeding at least three tonight and I don't give a fuck who they are. Any bitch that looks at me is getting her womb flooded."
Your brothers roared in approval, raising their fists while their cocks twitched at what you just said. The old soft white boy who made that scared phone call weeks ago was dead after leaking out of your musky cock.
This was your life now, and it felt fucking perfect. Who knows what would happen next...
"Dude, I'm screwed," Marcus groaned, tapping his head against the desk. "Coach is gonna bench me if I don't show I'm worth during next game, but I don't have time to train or do anything because of this shit ass exam. I fucking hate organic chemistry. I wish I had full sports scholarship so I wouldn't have to worry about this stuff"
Devin looked up from his desk. "You're being dramatic. You did well on all exams this semester. And you are a good player. You'll do well. I believe in you" he said trying to be a bit more supportive towards his friend.
"Yeah, but that's all thanks to you and your tutoring. Seriously, thanks dude. I don't know what would I do without you " Marcus said, grabbing his own bicep. "Look at this. I'm 6'2 and weigh, what, 175 soaking wet? I get bodied every time I drive the lane. I need to put on some weight."
"You could justā¦ eat more?" Devin suggested ignorantly.
"Bro, I eat. It doesn't stick. If only it was that easy" Marcus sighed. "If I was like 185, maybe I could actually hold my own down low. Get some rebounds. Be a little more physical."
Devin pulled out his phone, half-listening. He'd downloaded some weird app his old roommate sent him. He was given a free trial to test it out. Supposedly you could type things and they'd happen. Probably bullshit, but whatever. He just wanted to test it and this seemed like a good time for it.
Marcus weighs 185 pounds.
Marcus was still talking, but something was different. Looking at him, his shoulders looked broader under his tank top. His arms, usually wiry, now had visible definition. Not huge, butā¦ solid.
"-and then I could actually finish through contact, you know? Like if I was 195, man. That's the dream. Just ten more pounds of muscle and I'd be unstoppable on the field."
"Wait," Devin blinked. "You said you just wanted to be 185."
"185?" Marcus laughed. "Nah, I hit 185 few months ago, your math is wrong. Keep up, man." He stretched a bit , his shirt definitely a lot tigher than it used to be "Been stuck at 185 for months though. Plateau is real. But I don't think I could get that big and continue playing basketball. These babies would just be too big" he added flexing his biceps that was now definitely more noticable.
Devin looked down at his phone. Then back at Marcus. Then at the phone.
Marcus weighs 195 pounds.
"That's why I switched to football, honestly. Able to get a lot bigger"
Devin's head snapped up. "Football? But didn't you play basketball"
Marcus was bigger now. Noticeably bigger. His tank top was straining. His neck had thickened, his chest pushing the fabric outward. He cracked his neck and kept going like nothing had changed.
"Yeah, played. Past tense dude. Back in highschool. You are supposed to be the smart one here" he laughed, his voice deeper "But I could never get this big and stay at basketball" Marcus leaned forward, and Devin could see the way his pecs bunched together. The tank top seams were working overtime. "I've been playing football since freshman year of college. You literally came to the homecoming game. Sat in the front row."
Devin had no memory of this. But it felt real. It felt true. Shaking his head after acquiring a new memory, Devin focused on more pressing matters... "You want to get even bigger?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"Bigger?" Marcus stood up and stretched. The tank top rode up, revealing a tight stomach with the outline of his abs. "I meanā¦ yeah. Honestly? If I could hit 220, I'd be a monster on the field. Tight ends are getting bigger every year. The guys I'm blocking are like 240, 250. I feel small half the time."
"Small." Devin's voice was flat. "You feel small."
"Bro, you don't get it because you don't play." Marcus turned as he heard a small rip. Looking at his tank top, he paused, frowning. "Fuck. I could swear this fit better the other day. I keep outgrowing my clothes lately." He said like it's the most normal thing that kept happening to him. Still, he quickly went back to the original topic... "220 is the goal. But 230?" His eyes got a little dreamy. "At 230 I could play defensive end. Always wanted to rush the passer. Just destroy quarterbacks."
Devin was already typing. He noticed the pattern so he was already a step ahead of Marcus. There was no way anyone would be disatisfied with 250.
Marcus weighs 250 pounds.
And Devin marveled at the change. Marcus's shoulders flared outward, his lats pushing his arms away from his body as the tank top gave up completely. His quads thickened, forcing his stance a little wider as his sweatpants almost tore apart. His chest expended every time he inhaled, but it didn't seem to get smaller when he exhaled. No... Instead it kept on getting bigger. His massive pecs forming a shelf that casted a shadow ober his abs. His jaw looked sharper, more defined. Everything about him was justā¦ more. Was he taller? Perhaps the app changed his size a bit to make room for more muscle...
"Yeah," Marcus said, his voice dropping just slightly, like it had gained some bass. "Honestly being 250 is great. Defensive end is where it's at. The quarterback never sees me coming. Last game I had three sacks. The Coach said some scouts are already asking about me. NFL here I come" He grinned, and even his smile looked more confident.
Devin meanwhile stared at the man in front of him...the broad chest, the thick arms, the way he seemed to fill the room just by standing in it. He'd started this conversation with a lanky basketball player. Now there was a defensive end standing in his dorm room, talking about the NFL like it was inevitable. He couldn't help himself as his thumb hovered over the screen. Marcus was already massive. A 250 pounds of muscle packed into a torn tank top, looking like he could bulldoze through a brick wall. That was enough... at least for now. But Devin's mind started to wonder. What else could this app do?
Marcus caught him staring. "What are you looking at, bro?" He said putting on a new shirt since the last tank top gave up, casually flexing his bicep as it grew to the size of a football. "You've been on your phone all night. Texting some girl?"
"Something like that," Devin muttered. Looking at this muscle hunk he had just created, Devin got a little greedy. Marcus was looking so good, he had to adda few more things-
Marcus has a massive bulge. He's extremely well endowed. He's not shy about it.
"You know what's funny," Marcus said, shifting his weight and spreading his legs a little wider as he sat down, not seemingly not wearing any shorts. He was done with studying for tonight. "Playing D-end, you get a lot of attention. Girls love the big guys." He gestured down at himself and smirked.
Devin's eyes involuntarily dropped. The underwear that Marcus was wearing were suddenlyā¦ full. Very full. There was a prominent, thick outline of his bulge running down his thigh that definitely hadn't been there a minute ago. Devin felt his face get hot.
"Dude, my eyes are up here," Marcus laughed, but he didn't sound offended. If anything, he sounded proud. He leaned back on his hands, which only made the situation more obvious. "Not my fault I got blessed, you know? Genetics, man. Some guys get this or that. But I got it all. Muscle, height, dick. What more could man ask for" The man simply smirked
"Right," Devin choked out. "Genetics."
"I mean, you've seen it in the showers. You know what I'm working with." Marcus said it so casually, like it was common knowledge, as he stood up, moving to the bed behind them and the poor chair made a sound in relief. And suddenly... There was another memory in Devin's head. His brain supplied the picture. He had seen it. Marcus was famous for it on the team. Guys joked that he had to tape it down before games. A third leg. That's what they called him.
"Anyway" Marcus continued, adjusting himself without a hint of shame, "Coach wants me to move to offensive line. Says at my size I could be a hell of a left tackle. Protect the quarterback's blind side." He cracked his knuckles. "But I don't know. D-end is more fun. You get to be aggressive."
Devin was only half-listening. His eyes kept drifting down to Marcus's lap, where the thick outline seemed to pulse slightly every time the big man shifted his weight. It was hypnotic. It was also giving Devin ideas.
Marcus is extremely horny all the time. He talks about it openly.
"-and the thing about offensive line is the stance," Marcus was saying, then paused. He let out a low groan and adjusted himself again, more forcefully this time. "Sorry bro. I've been so damn worked up lately. It's annoying."
"Yeah?" Devin's voice came out squeakier than he intended.
"Dude, it's constant. I wake up ready to go. Practice is brutal because I'm chafing in my cup half the time. Showers after? Forget about it. I have to wait till everyone leaves or I'll poke someone's eye out." He laughed, but there was smugness in his expression. "Coach says it's all the testosterone. Guy at my size, lifting as heavy as I do, eating as much as I doā¦ it simply natural"
"So you justā¦ walk around like that?" He said pointing at the hard on he was having at the moment.
"Pretty much." Marcus didn't look embarrassed. If anything, he looked proud of it, like it was just another muscle he'd built. "Girlfriends love it at first. Then they get tired. I had one tell me I was 'too much to handle.'" He made air quotes with his thick fingers, before starting to casually stroke himself. Loking back at Devin, as if he wasn't just pleasuring himself, Marcus smirked again "You've got that look on your face."
"What look?" Devin asked, quickly shaking his head as he looked up from Marcus obvious bulge that was being stroked by those rough and collosal hands. He could see the thick outline of his new dick and the raging libido that came with it. It was... Mesmerizing. But he couldn't just stare at it-!
"The one where you're thinking too hard about something." Marcus studied him with those dark eyes... had they always been that deep brown? "You always do that. It's kind of cute, actually."
"Cute?" Devin's voice cracked. Did his straight roommate call him cute? He could feel it... The blood flowing through him and making his face fed.
"Yeah. That's the word." Marcus said it with a shrug. "You get all flustered. Your ears turn red. It's endearing." He leaned forward, hands still in his underwear . "Any girl would be lucky to have you."
'I'm not into girls' Devin thought as he looked as his phone, already with an idea on how to solve this situation. His thumb hesitated over the screen. Then he typed.
Marcus is bisexual. He prefers men. Specifically, he is deeply attracted to Devin.
A strange look crossed Marcus's face. He blinked slowly, as if seeing something or someone for the very first time. His gaze traveled from Devin's face down and back up again. The casual energy in the room shifted, grew charged.
"You know what?" Marcus said, his voice dropping into a lower register, "Scratch that. Any girl is the wrong thing to say." He stopped stroking himself as he stood up from the bed, all 6'5" of him, packed with 250 pounds of muscle, and crossed the small distance between them. "What I meant to say is... I've been thinking about you differently lately, Devin."
"You have?" Devin's voice was barely a whisper as he couldn't believe what was happening. He saw what the app could do, but this... This was on another level... Was he being too greedy with these changes? It startered out of joke, then goodwill but at the end was only fuffling his fantasies...
"Mm." Marcus was very close now, his face inches away from Devin's "I have. You're always here for me. You're smart. You're funny. And honestly..." He reached out and gently took the phone from Devin's nervous fingers, setting it aside on the desk without even glancing at it. "I find you incredibly attractive. I was just afraid to say it before. But this feels like the right moment, doesn't it? It feels... right." His hand came up, warm and solid, to cup Devin's "Tell me if I'm reading this wrong. Tell me you don't feel it too, and I'll back off. We'll go back to just being friends. No weirdness."
Devin's mind was racing through everything that had changed in the last fifteen minutes. The size, the height, the whole impossible wave of transformations. But looking up into those dark... And huge pecs, he found it hard to care about consequences. "You're not reading it wrong," he said quietly.
"Great." Marcus smiled "Because I was hoping that's what this meant" he said jokingly pointing out small bulge in Devin's pants and the smaller boy immediately blushed even harder. Taking him to bed, Marcus simply smiled "Since you are on board... I've got some ideas about what we should do tonight. And none of them involve studying."
A buzzing sound came from the desk. Devin's phone, screen still glowing. A text from his old roommate: "Did you try the app yet? Hilarious right?? Fair warning though, changes are permanent. LOL". But Devin didn't see. He was otherwise occupied.
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After spending two fulls days at your cabin seducing and repeatedly breeding your latest twink, you finally took a short break to let his gaped, cum-leaking hole recover. As expected, the overdose of your transformative sperm caused him to change faster than your usual one night twink conversion. While your balls churned getting the next load ready, you decided to have a little fun and mess with him. āSo what do guys like most about you?ā He bit his lip in thought, and replied āI guess they love my smooth twink bod!ā You smirked. āI bet they did,ā the use of the past tense going unnoticed by the ex-twink. āMaybe some day you will become a hairy man like me,ā you said as he nuzzled his head in your crotch, your horse cock starting to swell again, streaking pre-cum along his new beard. āBased on how my dad and older brothers look, Iām pretty sure Iāll have this skinny, smooth body forever,ā he replied. You ran your fingers through the newly developed, thick, black hair on his chest and stomach. āThat feels so good,ā he moaned, unaware that what was adding to the sensation was the fur coating his body. He had no idea that the only place left on his body that wasnāt covered in hair was his cheekbones, his forehead, and the palms of his hands and feet. And now that you thought about it, maybe it was time to give him another load, so his beard would extend up to his cheekbones. You couldnāt wait to see him at the gym next week, parading around in skimpy clothes acting like the same slutty twink, while everyone whispers and stares, wondering what happened.Ā
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