It’s finally done!! This was a request from @bigbren1979 . I hope you like it my dude!! Please enjoy. I also have some interesting news coming up later today!!! Stay tuned!!

Brett Lawrie was a massive success on the baseball field. People loved seeing this very attractive man swing away, both men and women. Unfortunately for both of them, he was already taken, having a wife and kid. Even worse, Lawrie was a massive homophobe, making fun of and harassing all the gay guys that worked out at the gym. He didn’t make it very obvious so he would not get into trouble, but everyone knew he really hated them all. 

Sadly for Lawrie, he messed with the wrong guy today. 

Andrew was having a beer with his friends in the local bar, when he saw Brett entering, clearly drunk. He sat down with his buds in a booth and immediately shouted for a waitress. When a guy approached the table, Lawrie and his friends immediately started calling him names. “Get us some beers, faggot” he said while spewing in his face. Andrew watched the scene unfold with his fists clenched. That bastard, always pestering the queer folk around town. He was about to get up to say something to the sportsman, when a thought entered his mind. A sly grin spread along his face as he sat back down and enjoyed the rest of his evening.

The following morning

Andrew walked into the gym, looking for his target. He found Brett on  the leg extension machine. Andrew moved over to the baseball player and smiled. 

“Hey man, You’re Brett Lawrie right? I’m a huge fan, dude! That last game was fantastic! Your swings were top tier!” Lawrie smiled. 

“Thanks bro! It was such a great game. I’m glad there are still some actual baseball fans around here, and not just fags.” Andrew bit his tongue and smiled. 

“Yeah man, been a fan for ages!” Lawrie beamed as his ego was stroked to high heaven. Andrew rummaged through his bag and took out a workout shaker.

“Hey man, so I wanted to give you this, it’s a protein shake I developed myself. Gives you this hugeeee boost. Best workout you’ve ever had, trust me. And unlike  pre-workout, you don’t even have to wait!!” Lawrie took the bottle with big eyes and took a swig. 

“Bro… this tastes divine!!” he took another sip and, kind of reluctantly, gave back the bottle to Andrew. Andrew saw the remorse in his eyes and smiled. 

“You know what man, you can keep that one, I got another one in my locker.” Brett looked up. “Are you sure… you don’t-” 

“I insist dude.” Andrew retorted and handed him the bottle.

Brett gazed at it and quickly took another mouthful. He stared up at Andrew and then immediately downed the whole bottle after which he  let out a massive belch. “Jezus that was fucking great man. Thanks a lot” 

Andrew grinned “No probz bro. Be sure to see me after your workout though. I can hook you up with some more” 

Lawrie nodded. “Yeah sure thing bro!” Andrew turned and started to walk towards the weights, starting his own workout.

In the meantime, Lawrie continued with renewed vigor. He had actually been almost done but the shake had given him an energy reset. He was ready to keep going. He continued to workout his legs and ass. His girlfriend loved his massive ass. When Lawrie was headed towards the Squat rack, he felt his stomach rumble. He chuckled. “Oh dear, there come the preworkout gasses. Oh well, people should know I’ve been here, they’d better be honored to smell me.” He said with a smug look on his face. But the farts and burps never came. Even when squatting down with 50 pounds on each side of the bar, not a single puff of air came out of him.

Instead, his body slowly started to swell up a bit. His lean body started to fill out with some fat and muscle. His rough slender arms started to fill out his shirt. His stomach roared again, this time enlarging his pecs into soft, warm cushions of flesh. Another rumble and he shrank down a few inches, but as he was squatting down at the same time, he didn’t even notice. The former 6 foot athlete, was now an adorable 5 ‘7. With another rumble came another set of changes. His 30 year old face started to lose some years. Patches of aged skin started to smooth out, the few wrinkles he had pulled away, and his beard receded into a soft stubble. His stern face melted away into a soft and cute face with boyish charm. His short hair started to grow out and turned wavy. Lawrie bit his lips as they slowly plumped up, making him look very cute, but also very, very gay. He squatted down once more and the ink on his body started to wash away with all the sweat that ran down his frame. He now had smooth and youthful looking skin. His final squat and his body hair all but disappeared leaving behind a slight dusting of hair along his new juicy pecs. Having some energy left, Lawrie decided to put on some weights and continue the squats. With every squat his ass felt like it was on fire. Each rep made his ass bigger, and more jiggly. His below average rod also started to grow. Not just hard, but longer, and thicker too. His balls grew too, with every rep making them bigger and faster. Lawrie’s ass was getting bigger by the second, almost ripping his shorts. He was also getting smoother, all the hair sucking into his balls and shaft, leaving a perfect smooth member. 

He finally put down the bar and stood there, panting and sweating. “Fuck… that was amazing” he thought to himself. He grabbed his towel and headed to the locker room, ready to get some more of that delicious drink. As he opened the door he was met with an alluring smell that he could immediately place; it was the drink. He looked around and saw Andrew sitting on a bench, legs spread apart, with a towel around his waist, covering his manhood. 

“Hey bro… I “ Lawrie fell silent. His usual rough voice was gone. Instead, when he talked a youthful, squeaky voice rang through the room. 

“Hey man, you’re finally done. Took you long enough. But damn you look good!” Lawrie looked down, and saw his clothes didn’t fit him the same as they did when he put them on this morning. They were hanging lower on his body, but he filled them out much more.

He looked up in the mirror and screamed. Instead of the handsome, rugged face he knew, a new young, cute, and very queer looking face looked back at him.

“What did you do to me” He asked, in that annoyingly gay sounding voice. 

“You just love to make fun of all the gays around here, so I thought, why not make you experience it for a change” he spread apart his legs a bit more, and Lawrie got attacked by a fresh, warm wave of the smell. 

“Y-you …. Put something in the drink” Lawrie stammered, feeling a thread of drool run down his chin. 

“You look adorable like that, but yeah you’re right. You want more right, that’s why you came? Want it from the source?” Andrew threw off the towel and Lawries knees buckled. The smell spread around the locker room, and more drool came spilling out of Lawries mouth. Andrew slowly walked over, his thick dick standing at attention. As he came closer there were no questions needed about what the source was; Lawrie only had eyes for Andrews dick. Andrew stopped just in front of Lawrie, his dick on eye level with the former star player. 

“Fuck you’re cute now.” Andrew cooed. He ran his thumb along Lawries soft jaw. “You want a taste, baby?” Lawrie gulped and bit his lip. 

“N-no I’m.. “ 

“Lick it boy” Andrew commanded, and Lawrie immediately complied. He opened his mouth and swallowed the rod. The bear groaned as the boy started to expertly suck him off. Lawries eyes opened wide as the familiar flavor of his drink started to fill his mouth. 

“That’s a good boy” these words filled Lawrie with a weird warm and fuzzy feeling. “You wanna make daddy cum, don’t you?” Lawrie wanted to spit out the dick and curse out the man in front of him but instead he looked up into the bear’s eyes and nodded. 

“Very good boy, you’re such a cutie. I’m gonna take such good care of you” As Andrew said that he shot a load down Brett Lawries throat. This in turn made the boy cream his own pants, shooting out all the old negative parts of the married baseball player. What was left was Barry, Andrew’s soft boyfriend pup, who was such a massive slut for his Daddy’s cock. 

“That was amazing daddy… did I do good?”

“You sure did pup… but I’ve got a question… What is your sexuality?”

“Im very gay Drewie. I’m so very gay for your cock… And those of your hot friends…”

Andrew laughed and he pulled his boyfriend up, giving him a warm embrace. “That’s my boy. Lets get you cleaned up and home’

Later

It’s been a few months since Brett Lawrie has been missing. The gay community of the town didnt really mind though. In his place, they got a new slut with a very cute face. Andrew’s new boyfriend made a very cheap onlyfans, and had plenty of time for visitors. His instagram is full of his dumb, cute face.  

Brett doesn’t remember much from his old life, only that it got substantially better when he and Andrew met. He now gets endless attention, money, and dick from him so he doesn’t have much to complain about. 

Rob and two of his fraternity brothers, Jeff and Andy, decided to rent a cabin in a rural area for a long weekend.  With school coming back in a few weeks, it would be their last chance to get in some “bro time” and relax before their senior year.  By next summer, they’d be going their separate ways, so why not crack open some beers in a nice setting.

They didn’t know much about the AirBnB they rented, but it had a lot of bells and whistles.  There was a jacuzzi and fire pit on the large deck out back and plenty of room for each of them to have their own room.  They brought in plenty of supplies to eat, drink, and relax.

Rob decided to take a nap one afternoon.  When he woke, he heard Jeff and Andy out on the porch.  When he opened the sliding door, he noticed they were outside smoking cigars around the fire pit.  “Yo, bros, where did you get the cigars?”, he asked.  Jeff answered, “One of the neighbors came by to say hello.”  Andy continued, “Yeah, he was really cool.  He gave us these cigars and said they would really help us relax.”

“Have you dudes been working out, too?”, Rob asked, “you look bigger than I remember from this morning.”  “Probably just been relaxing too much, I guess,” Jeff said.  “Yeah,”, Andy said, “the dude said one of the side effects of relaxing might be some weight gain.”  “Bros,” Rob asked, “why do you keep saying the word relax so much?  It’s starting to creep me out.”  Rob started to recognize that the boys were almost in a trance the way they were acting.  Their eyes seemed glassy as they kept mindlessly smoking their cigars.

“It’s totally OK, bro,” Jeff said, “you should relax with us.”  “Yeah,” Andy said, “sit down and relax.”  The smoke from the cigars seemed to be affecting Rob.  The more the guys said the word relax, it was like he was becoming more and more compelled to do so.  “This is all too much,” he said shaking his head, “I don’t want to relax.”

“Yeah, you do,” Jeff said, “just come over, grab a cigar and relax.  Come hang out with your bros.”  Andy added, “It’s totally worth it, bro.  I feel so good and relaxed.  You don’t know what you’re missing.”  Rob couldn’t take it anymore.  Seeing his bros so relaxed, almost seeming to grow in front of his eyes.  He thought, “It’s just a cigar, what’s the big deal?”

“Alright bros,” Rob said, “I’ll relax with you for a while.”  Jeff handed Rob a cigar, cutter, and lighter.  As he puffed his stogie to life, Rob understood why his bros were loving these cigars.  They were in a beautiful setting, out in the open, forest all around them.  It was a perfect time to just relax and let all the stress go away.  While he was sitting there, he could also feel almost every cell in his body coming to life.  His muscles were growing, but he was also gaining some weight in his mid-section.  He didn’t care though, all he wanted to do was continue relaxing.

About 30 minutes later, Jeff and Andy broke the relaxing silence.  “Hey, bro,” Jeff said, “we should head inside for a bit and relax some more.”  Andy said, “Totally, bro.  I could definitely relax inside for a while.”  As they stood up, Rob noticed they were looking each other in the eyes.  They were all as straight as the other bros in their fraternity.  They enjoyed spending time with each other, but it was never in a gay way.  

Initially, as these thoughts crossed his mind, Rob became slightly uncomfortable.  However, he kept relaxing and smoking his cigar.  He turned to see his bros holding hands as they walked inside the house - still smoking their cigars.  He wanted to say, “Stop, we’re not supposed to smoke in the house.  We might lose our deposit.”  However, all he could do was see his growing chub and think, “Those dudes are sexy.”

A good 30 minutes later, Rob was still smoking his cigar and relaxing while staring out in the woods, listening to the wind rustle the trees.  He was so relaxed.  He didn’t notice the door slide open as a stranger stepped foot on the deck.  As he turned, Rob didn’t even flinch seeing the man, much older than himself and his bros.  He was covered in hair, tattoos, and wearing nothing but a hat, jock strap, and work boots.

“Hello, boy,” the man said, “are you relaxed?”  “Yes, I’m very relaxed,” Rob answered.  “Good boy” the man responded, “it’s important that you continue relaxing for me.”  Rob vacantly continued sucking on his cigar, thinking only about how relaxed he was and how sexy this man was.  “My name is Wallace, boy,” the man said, “I’m the owner of this cabin.  When people stay here, I usually go to the other cabin I have next door.  But when you and your friend decided to visit, I thought it was important that you relax.”

“Thank you,” Rob said, “we are really enjoying ourselves.  This place is so relaxing.”  “Good, boy,” Wallace said, “what’s your name?”  Rob answered.  “Well, Robert,” Wallace continued, “we go by men’s names here.  Your friends Jeffrey and Andrew told me you all were visiting before going back to school.  What would you say about staying here and relaxing with me?  I could really use the help running the AirBnB.”

Robert thought about it for a moment, “I love relaxing here, Wallace.  This has been an amazing experience.  But I need to get back to school.”  “Now, why would you want to do that, Robert?”, Wallace asked, “Jeffrey and Andrew are going to stay so they can continue relaxing.  I think you should stay, too.”

Two men Rob didn’t recognize stepped out onto the deck.  “You should stay here with us, Robert”, one of them said.  “Yeah,” the other one said, “we are going to stay here with Wallace and help him out.”  Both men took hauls on their cigars and exchanged smoke-filled, passionate kisses.  Rob could recognize them now, about 20-25 years older than they were before, with beards, body hair, and wrinkles.  It was Jeff and Andy.

The shirtless men started approaching Rob, when he had a slight moment of clarity.  “What the hell is going on here?” he asked.  Jeffrey and Andrew smiled around their cigars as Wallace answered, “Jeffrey and Andrew relaxed like good boys, just as I encouraged them to do.  Through relaxation, they realized they were in love - or at least in lust - with one another.”  “Hell yeah,” Jeffrey said, “Andrew here is one hot fucker, don’t you think Robert?  Why don’t you help Robert relax some more?”  With Jeffrey’s approval, Andrew approached Rob and started to lean in to give him a kiss.

“Back off, Andrew,” Wallace interjected, “you’ve got Jeffrey.  This one is mine.”  Andrew went back to Jeffrey.  Wallace took a haul off his cigar and gave Rob an injection of his smoke.  Rob’s eyes and cock sprung to life.  “That was fucking sexy, Wallace”, Andrew said.  “There is still much for you boys to learn,” Wallace said, “so, Robert, why don’t you join me inside where we can relax together?”

Rob stood up, his growing body almost losing his balance under his new girth.  “Fuck, you are going to be a sexy man when I’m done with you,” Wallace said.  Rob grabbed Wallace’s hand as they disappeared into the cabin, leaving Jeffrey and Andrew on the deck.

A few months later, there was a knock on the door of the cabin.  When the door opened, a thick man, hairy man, wearing leather pants and a harness, smoking a large cigar said, “Hello, my name is Robert.  My husband Wallace and I welcome you to our AirBnB.  We’ll be staying down the road in our cabin, but the onsite staff Jeffrey and Andrew are here to make sure you have a relaxing stay.  If any of us can help you out in any way, don’t hesitate to let us know.  Sometimes, people feel so relaxed they never want to leave.”

Thanks, bro. I love imagining guys getting sweaty and stinky, dripping musky sweat and leaving smelly sweatprints on everything they touch. Sucking on their cheesy cocks and musky toes…

Dude, when was the last time you showered? The last time it rained? It’s been weeks! And every day, you spend hours sweating in the gym and hiking in the summer heat. No wonder I can smell you the moment you come in the door, considering how much you sweat just sitting down.

Not that it’s a bad thing. Show off those hairy armpits for me, bro. Mmm, smells so tangy and good. Give yourself a good sniff. You can just feel the musky stench dissolving what remains of your brain. Take off those sweat-stained socks and let me lick those big bro feet.

Bro.

BRO!

Bro…

Huhuhu, bruh, you, like, totally came in your boxer briefs, just from sniffing your musky bod! We should, huhu, go and find some lame nerds you can dumb down and musk up with your greasy unwashed musclebod. Like the bros reading this! See that, bros? You can smell my bro’s musky feet right through the computer screen, huhuhu. Let the stench get you all musky and dumb, just like us. Then we can all get even sweatier together, bros!

The genie barges in the door halfway through dinner. He’s shirtless, with huge linebacker muscles. As your dad inhales to bellow some kind of slur at the entry of a huge Arabic man, the genie flicks his fingers in a complicated pattern. “Not to worry,” he rumbles, “I’m your new life coach.”

Your dad sits back down in his chair, looking confused and muddled. “Right…” he murmurs. “Life coach…”

You’re looking gleefully at your zonked out dad when the genie gestures at you, as well. “Nah, you too, boy,” he says. Your brain slows down, and you hear your voice say, slowly, “Whatever you say…”

Over the next few weeks, the genie coaches you and your dad 24/7. You move through your days in a haze, going to the gym, eating tons of protein, getting all new clothes. Your skin darkens as your muscles grow, and you swear your dad’s looking younger. One day, he and the genie go out. You do push-ups while they’re gone, just like the genie told you. When they come back, your dad’s gotten his buzzcut bleached. He looks your age. You struggle to articulate why that’s weird.

“Don’t worry,” says the genie, whispering in your ear as he puts a durag on your head. “That’s not your dad, that’s your bro. You play football together every day.”

He’s right. You don’t know why it was weird. That’s your bro, your roommate, your fuckbuddy, your closest friend. It’s always been this way.

Another wish fulfilled.

(Sharing a TF I wrote for @reddarkfox222)

You were just leaving the Student Wellness Center after putting in your best effort to bulk up. You had been doing pretty well at making it a habit but you were really wishing there was some sort of cheat you could do to speed things up.

As you were nearing the double glass doors of the exit, the guy in front of you had something fall out of his gym bag. Without thinking, you scooped it up and were just about to call after him when you realized the thing you were holding was kind of damp and a bit musky. You look down and realize you had unthinkingly picked up this man’s jockstrap.

You spotted the garbage and were about to toss it when something deep within you made you pause and quietly pack it into your own bag. After that, you went about your boring day of classes and didn’t think about it again until you began your homework that evening.

You tried so hard to concentrate but you kept thinking about the jockstrap in your bag and how sexy the hairy muscular football player that dropped it was. You stare at your notes for a couple unproductive minutes when at last you can’t resist it anymore and run to your bag and snatch it out.

It’s still a bit damp and the musk emitting from it is ripe but in a way that begins to make you so horny that your cock begins to get hard. Timidly, you lift it up to your face and take in a deep inhale. You can almost feel the musk as it penetrates deep into your lungs. ‘God, this scent is intoxicating’ you think to yourself as you take another whiff before you head back to your desk to resume your studies.

For a couple minutes you manage to put in some real effort to complete your homework but are interrupted by a tingling sensation across your body. Goosebumps don’t seem to be the case here as it feels more intense and the tingling quickly becomes a sharp pins and needles feeling. You’re so distracted by the feeling that you don’t even notice as chest hair begins to form and slowly curl its way through the neck opening of your t-shirt. Your armpits begin to itch as well while your pit hair gets longer, thicker, and sweatier.

The sensation makes you give up on homework for the night and you head to you bed. Along the way you decide to grab the jockstrap again because what’s the harm in another sniff? You don’t even bother to take off your clothes before hopping on the mattress, jock in hand, and begin the take deep inhales while you play with your hard on beneath the zipper of your pants.

Laying there all gooned out, you don’t notice as your cock begins to elongate and gain some heft. You just assume it’s still getting hard because of how turned on you are right now. You do however, notice the tingling sensation down there as your shaft begins to become hairy and a thick dark bush of pubes sprout at the base of your cock.

You can’t take it anymore and you begin to strip your clothes off revealing all the new hair growth along your body. Your arms and legs have a nice black carpet of hair and your stomach has a tidy little treasure trail leading down to your cock. That’s when you finally notice that your dick has miraculously gained 3 inches in length making it a whopping 8 inches long. The length isn’t the only thing shocking as it’s also about as thick as a beer can now.

It’s a good thing you stripped too as you’re about to need a whole new wardrobe. As you stroke your new fat cock you see the skin on you stomach start to churn like waves rollling across a see of pink. The churning starts to ease as thick washboard abs begin to form their way up your abdomen creating a six pack that you could never have imagined being there before. It doesn’t stop there though, your pecs start to swell and inflate under all of that new chest hair as they gain muscle mass and your nipples harden at the feeling of pleasure this is all bringing you.

You grab the jock and inhale deeply again as you begin stroking your cock even harder. The changes start coming on faster too as your feet go from a size 9.5 to 12 inches. Your calves expand as well as your thighs, the look of them is so astounding that it almost reminds you of the marble statues of nude male forms that you’ve seen in museums except a lot hairier!

You feel a bit of precum on your cock and instinctively move the jock down to wipe it up and then continue your bait sesh. As you stroke, you see your arms begin to bulk up as your biceps and triceps start to bulge out from your arms and the veins in your arms began to strain as if ready to pop. The ecstasy of this sudden growth is finally too much and loads of cum burst from your new thick hairy cock, drenching your chest hair and even the bedsheets.

The transformation leaves you exhausted and you pass out from finally having achieved release. When you wake in the morning you head to the bathroom and admire the muscular form you see looking back at you with its thick cock twitching in anticipation of another go. You head back to your room to get ready for the day before realizing that none of your clothes fit anymore. You see the jockstrap on your pillow and don’t even hesitate to grab it and slide it on. The fabric hugs your cock perfectly and the straps frame your hairy muscular ass like it’s a prized oil painting. ‘Thank god I found that jockstrap’ you think as you give the straps a playful snap ‘it’s the only clothing I have that fits.’

I’m the only one who knows Alex’s secret: He can transform you with a kiss. He confided in me one morning, and shyly added, “and I’ve kinda wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

“Then do it,” I said, pulling him close. Our mouths met, our lips touched, and I felt his power flow through me.

“What are you turning me into?” I asked.

“The perfect boyfriend,” he grinned. I felt my clothing evaporate from my body, leaving me naked in front of him. My muscle cramped and bulged, growing huge, and my cock swelled. I felt my body stretch, growing taller, and I wrapped my bigger, stronger arms around him. He’s mine now, and I’m his.

Morris needs a job, Byron Industries needs an lab rat perfect for their new trial to make a mindless (read: horny) grunt. Paging through his favorite book while he waits, for such a reader he surely didn't read any fine print.

Wrote this one for a GSS challenge a bit ago! Here it is ever so slightly touched up with a few images added. This one's for all you real Melville heads out there. -Occam

“Call me Morris!”

The literature grad surely expected at least some reaction to his smallest of Moby Dick references. It’s not the first time he’s met with silence at the playfully pitiful introduction, but usually there’s at least confusion. This receptionist simply stares blankly. Perhaps there was a perfunctory smile under the facemask, but it certainly didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Morris Baker, yes? For the interview?”

Still recoiling from his scuffed opening Morris is hesitant to speak up. All the well as the receptionist takes his silent quibbling as confirmation. 

“Sir Byron will be with you shortly, please have a seat and enjoy our lobby’s amenities.”

Clutching his shoulder bag tightly as he sort of bows before stepping away from the front desk, Morris realizes that he’s not just working himself up. It’s not in his head, something is off about that receptionist. Sneaking a quick glance back, he sees the clerk is still staring at him. No? Staring through him.

To his credit, Morris stills the shiver that runs up his spine at the realization. Focusing on what matters, Morris convinces himself that between the two of them the secretary’s the weird one. That’s why the man didn’t react to his solid Moby Dick reference! Turning with a cocksure grin to take in the amenities the strange receptionist spoke of he wonders what he’ll find. It’s not every day someone like him gets to wander into Byron Roman’s business, after all.

"Broooo stop... I'm getting so... big..."

Micheal was trying to button up this new muscle shirt he bought from this online store called Rakurai Inc. which apparently makes you grow fucking huge if you keep it open. But an unknown side effect was that you also got super dumb in the process.

His roommate, Bryce was present while he put it on, but now he was keeping Micheal from buttoning up his shirt, making his juicy pecs even bigger and his arms straining even harder against the fabric.

"Broooo... staahpp" Micheal moaned as Bryce was groping his muscle tits.

Bryce grinned as his roomie got even bigger, feeling his bulge grind up against his leg. He couldn't wait till his shirt got in, he couldn't wait to be hot, dumb and sweaty with his dumb roomie.

You didn’t think much of what he’d said at first. He was just a Grindr hookup, and tops will say literally anything. The message didn’t even crack the top 5 weirdest things you’d been sent. But still:

“Gonna see you fucked silly.”

It was so specific. Okay, maybe you looked like a bit of a dummy, with your sturdy muscles and habitual smile. But you were getting a doctorate! There was nothing silly about a PhD in Historiography.

“Gonna see you fucked silly.”

You looked at the message one last time as you waited rang for him to unlock the door of his building. You rolled your eyes. Bullshit tops.

But as his fat cock penetrated your hole, you started to feel weird. Your thoughts started to slow down and drift away. “What’s… happening?” you groaned as he bottomed out.

“You’re getting fucked silly, like all the other guys I top,” the top told you, and shifted inside you. You felt his cock rub up against your prostate and some of your thoughts popped like shiny, glittery soap bubbles.

“Noooo,” you moaned, shocked at how slutty your voice sounded. “I don’t wanna be a silly boyyyy.” You were smart, right? You were getting a Historo— Histrio— His— a big degree!

“Yeah, you do,” said the top, starting to fuck you harder. “You wanna be a silly bottom boi with big juicy muscles.”

“I’m moooore than a joocy muscle boiiiii,” you moaned, caught between bliss and horror as your whole body lit up from the fucking. More and more of your thoughts, memories, and knowledge slipped out of your grasp and vanished as he kept on fucking. You tried to hold onto things like your high school math class and your favourite show, but they vanished so fast you forgot you’d ever known them.

You felt your brain getting lighter and lighter as everything inside it dissolved and went away. As the top’s rhythm broke down with approaching orgasm, you moaned wantonly and fucked back into him, desperate for stimulation as the last of your smarts vanished.

The top came, and the sensation of him filling you up with his cum ripped away everything that you had left. You spurted all over the bed with an empty-headed groan. The sight of all the globs of cum on the sheets suddenly struck you as hilarious, and you started to laugh. “Huhuhuhu…”

The top pulled out. “Another happy customer,” he said, patting you on your broad back.

You twerked back at him, feeling empty. You flipped over and grinned up at him. “I wanna go dancingggg,” you whined in your new dumb, slutty voice. “Let’s go partyyyyy.” You were just a dumb, airheaded himbo with bouncy muscles and a goofy personality.

I woke up to the sound of the dorm shower shutting off and the heavy, wet footsteps of my roommate crossing the room.

Reece.

Even the name still sent a dark little thrill through me every single morning.

He stepped into the main room still dripping, curly brown hair plastered in messy, damp ringlets across his forehead, that signature half-smirk already tugging at his full lips like he knew exactly how ridiculous he looked and didn’t give a single fuck. Water and sweat mixed on his skin, turning it into a glossy, golden map of muscle. Those heavy pecs rose and fell with each breath, the deep cleft between them shiny and inviting, dark nipples still tight from the cold water. His abs flexed and rippled as he towel-dried his hair, every ridge and cut standing out in sharp relief. The towel hung dangerously low on his hips, the thick root of his cock just barely hidden, the heavy bulge shifting with every step.

“Morning, nerd,” he rumbled in that deep, post-sleep baritone, voice still rough from sleep and the way he’d probably been moaning my name into his pillow an hour earlier. He caught me staring and flexed one arm lazily, watching the bicep peak and the veins stand out along his forearm. A bead of water traced down the curve of his pec, caught on the nipple, and dropped onto the floor. “You gonna keep eye-fucking me or you actually getting up today?”

I grinned, cock already thickening under the sheets. “What? I'm just appreciating the view. You look like you got run over by the protein truck again.”

Reece laughed, low and easy, and turned to grab his gym bag. The motion made those massive lats flare and that perfect bubble ass flex under the towel. He had no idea. No clue that a week ago he’d been my balding, beer-gutted, ranting homophobic father. No memory of the slurs, the lectures, the way he used to sneer at anything that wasn’t “normal.” All of that had been scrubbed clean by Chronivac.

Now he was Reece—my 22-year-old, 6'2", 225-pound bi jock roommate who thought we’d been sharing this dorm since freshman year. And he was mine in every way that mattered.

I waited until he left for his morning lift before I pulled out my phone and opened the app again. The interface glowed softly.

Target locked: Reece.

Status: Oblivious.

Reality stable.

I scrolled through the categories I’d already tweaked and felt my cock twitch at the memory of how it had all started.

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

What happened exactly? It had been last Friday night.

My dad—Robert—had shown up at the dorm unannounced, same sour expression, same gut straining against his polo, same receding hair and judgmental eyes. He’d taken one look at the rainbow flag sticker on my laptop and launched into the usual bullshit about “real men” and “phases” and how I needed to “fix my shit before it’s too late.”

I’d smiled, nodded, offered him the pull-out couch, and waited until he passed out drunk on cheap beer and self-righteousness.

Then I opened Chronivac.

I’d set the parameters with shaking hands and a throbbing dick.

Name: Reece Thompson.

Age: 22.

Height: 6'2".

Weight: 225 lbs.

Body Type: Competition-ready jock, low body fat, maximal muscle density, tanned skin, thick curly brown hair, handsome face with natural smirk.

I’d spent a long time on the body sliders.

Shoulders: +40%.

Chest: +65% — heavy, rounded, deep cleavage, sensitive nipples.

Arms: 19-inch biceps, thick vascular forearms.

Abs: deep-cut 8-pack with sharp obliques.

Legs: tree-trunk quads, diamond calves, and an ass that would make grown men cry.

I previewed it and nearly came in my sweats at the render.

Cock & Balls: 8.5 inches soft, 10.5 hard, thick as a wrist, heavy low-hanging balls, constant precum production, high sensitivity, refractory period near zero.

Ass: Plump muscular bubble, tight when flexed but soft and greedy when relaxed, prostate hypersensitive.

Libido: Maximum. Always horny. Leaks easily. Gets hard from flexing, from being watched, from my voice.

Personality: Cocky, outgoing, gym-obsessed jock bro. Openly bisexual. Flirty with everyone. Secretly submissive and eager to please only around me—his “nerd roommate.” High confidence, zero homophobia, zero shame.

Awareness: Off. Full reality rewrite enabled.

Apply – Gradual Over 90 Minutes.

I hit that button. Then I sat in the dark and watched my father become my perfect roommate.

It started in his face. The snoring stopped for a second as the skin smoothed. Deep lines around his eyes and mouth faded like they’d never existed. His receding hairline surged forward, strands thickening, darkening, curling into those messy brown waves that now framed Reece’s face so perfectly. His jaw cracked softly and squared out, stubble reshaping into the light, sexy scruff that suited him. His lips parted on a sleepy sigh and settled into that permanent half-smirk. Even unconscious, he looked cocky and fuckable.

His neck thickened next, cords standing out, Adam’s apple more pronounced. When he mumbled something in his sleep it already sounded deeper, smoother, younger.

The chest was the part that made me pull my cock out and start stroking slow and tight.

Under the old polo, his soft tits began to swell. The fabric stretched with a quiet creak. I watched the shape change—fat melting, muscle packing on in heavy, rounded slabs. His nipples pushed outward, darkening, growing sensitive enough that even in sleep one hand drifted up and rubbed across the new chest. The polo rode higher and higher as the pecs inflated, the deep valley between them forming right before my eyes. Throb… pulse… stretch… I could almost hear the tissues remolding. By the time the changes slowed, two heavy, meaty pecs strained the fabric, the outline of those fat nipples obvious. A bead of sweat already glistened in the new cleavage.

His gut followed, shrinking fast. The beer belly caved in with wet, sucking sounds I felt more than heard. Skin tightened. Muscle carved itself into existence—first the top row of abs, then the lower ones, deep cuts appearing between each block until an 8-pack sat where the paunch had been. His waist pulled in, creating that sharp V that arrowed straight down to his crotch. The polo was now comically tight, seams popping one by one with tiny pop-pop sounds as his lats and chest kept growing.

Shoulders broadened with dull cracks, delts capping, traps rising. His arms inflated like someone was pumping air into them. Biceps rounded and split, veins rising to the surface in thick ropes. The sleeves of the polo shredded at the seams with satisfying rrriip sounds. He shifted in his sleep, one new massive arm flopping over the edge of the couch, and I had to bite my knuckle to keep from moaning out loud.

Lower body next. His legs lengthened slightly as height adjusted, then packed with muscle. Quads swelled against his pants until the fabric stretched shiny and thin. Calves hardened into diamonds. And that ass—fuck, that ass. It rose and rounded, cheeks firming and lifting into two perfect, muscular globes that pushed the seat of his pants to the absolute limit. Stretch… swell… clench… I watched the fabric ride up between the cheeks as they grew. He was going to have the kind of ass that looked obscene in anything he wore.

The crotch was last and the best. Even asleep, his body knew what was happening. His cock began to lengthen down one thigh, thickening visibly, the bulge growing and shifting. Throb… pulse… thicken… The head pushed against the fabric, forming a clear outline. His balls swelled into heavy, churning orbs that made the fabric tent. Almost immediately the high libido kicked in—dark wet spot blooming at the tip of the bulge as precum started soaking through. His hips twitched. A low, unconscious groan left his new deeper voice. I stroked myself faster, matching the rhythm of his growing cock.

Over the next hour the changes refined. Skin tone warmed and tanned. A light dusting of hair appeared across the new pecs and abs, just enough to catch sweat and make everything glisten. The old clothes morphed—polo and pants becoming a tight black tank and gray gym shorts that barely contained the new body. When he finally stirred and sat up, stretching those massive arms overhead, pecs bouncing and flexing, he looked exactly like the man now living in my dorm.

“Shit, I crashed hard,” he said in that new voice, rubbing his face. The smirk appeared naturally. “Did you just let me sleep on the couch like a fucking animal, bro?”

I played it cool even though my cock was still leaking in my hand under the blanket. “You looked comfortable. Rough night?”

He stood, and the new body moved like it had always belonged to him. Shoulders rolling, pecs shifting, that heavy cock swinging in the loose shorts. “Nah. Just lifted late. You know how it is.” He scratched his abs absently, fingers tracing the new cuts. “Gonna shower. You need anything before I head out?”

I shook my head, watching the way his ass flexed as he walked away. The reality rewrite had already settled. In his mind we’d been roommates since freshman. My dad had “taken a job out of state.” No one questioned it. No one remembered the old version except me.

And I made sure to enjoy every second of the new one.

Over the next few days I made small, delicious adjustments while he was awake and oblivious.

Tuesday afternoon he was in the middle of push-ups on the dorm floor, tank top soaked through, curly hair falling into his eyes. I sat at my desk pretending to study and opened Chronivac.

Chest size +8%.

Nipple sensitivity +20%.

Apply gradual.

I watched as Reece's pecs swell right there on the floor. Each rep made them bounce heavier, fuller. The tank stretched tighter. His nipples, already sensitive from the first round of changes, darkened and pebbled visibly against the fabric. He grunted through the set, sweat dripping from his chin onto the deep cleavage.

“Fuck, pump’s insane today,” he panted, completely unaware that every rep was making his chest grow. By the time he finished, those pecs were noticeably heavier, the tank looking painted on. He stood up, rolled his shoulders, and caught me staring. “What? You like the pump too, nerd?”

I swallowed. “Yeah. Looks good on you.”

He grinned that cocky grin and flexed both arms, then bounced his pecs deliberately. “These bad boys? Been growing like crazy lately. Must be the new protein shake.” He stepped closer, still breathing hard, musk rolling off him in waves. “You can feel these milkers if you want. Spotter’s privilege or whatever.”

Fuck yeah, I want it.

I reached out and ran both hands over the hot, sweat-slick juicy muscle. They were so full now, so heavy, bulging under my fingers. When I brushed his nipples he let out a soft, surprised nnnghhh and his cock twitched visibly in his shorts. A tiny wet spot appeared at the tip. He didn’t even seem to notice.

“Sensitive today,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away. If anything he leaned into my touch, eyes half-lidded. That submissive streak I’d programmed was already showing. “Feels… good when you do it, though.”

I squeezed gently and watched his eyes flutter. “Yeah? Maybe I should spot you more often.”

He laughed, low and breathy. “You know what, maybe you should.”

By Thursday I’d added more. Bigger balls. Higher cum volume. Ass sensitivity cranked. And a little extra spice, whenever he was around me and horny, he’d start leaking steadily without realizing it. Reality made sure no one else noticed the wet spots or the constant bulge. Only I got to see how desperate he really was.

That night he came back from the gym looking like a hot mess—curly hair damp, skin glistening, chest pumped and shiny, that smirk in full effect. He dropped his bag, peeled the soaked tank off with a wet schlick, and tossed it aside. Those heavy pecs bounced free, nipples tight and dark. Sweat ran in rivulets down the deep cleft and over the carved abs. He caught me looking and didn’t even pretend to be shy.

“Shower’s all yours if you want it,” he said, but he didn’t move toward the bathroom. Instead he stepped closer, still in those low gym shorts that clung to his thick thighs and the massive, half-hard bulge. The wet spot at the tip was obvious now, fabric dark and clinging to the fat head of his cock. “Or… you could help me cool down first.”

I stood up. My own cock was already rock hard. “How do you want me to help, Reece?”

"Hmmmm, I don't know," He licked his lips, eyes flicking down to my bulge and back up. The cocky jock mask slipped just enough to show the hunger underneath. “Been thinking about your hands on me all day. That spot you gave me the other night? Fuckkkk. Couldn’t stop replaying it.” He reached down and adjusted himself, the thick length shifting heavily. A fresh bead of precum soaked through. “You make me so fucking hard lately, bro. Is that weird?”

I stepped in until our bodies almost touched. The heat rolling off him was incredible. “Not weird at all. I like it. You like it.”

His breath hitched when I ran my palms up his sweat-slick chest, thumbs circling those sensitive nipples. He groaned—deep, needy—and his cock jumped, another pulse of precum darkening the shorts even more. “Nngh—fuck, you're right, nerd. I like your hands…”

I leaned in and licked a stripe up the center of his chest, tasting salt and musk and pure jock. He shuddered, one big hand coming up to grip the back of my neck, not pushing me away but holding me there. I sucked one nipple into my mouth and he actually whimpered, hips bucking forward so that massive bulge pressed against my stomach.

“Bed,” I murmured against his skin. “Now.”

He went willingly, that big body dropping onto the mattress like he’d been waiting for the command. I stripped him the rest of the way and just stared for a second. The cock that sprang free was obscene—thick, veiny, ten and a half inches of throbbing meat, heavy balls drawn up tight, the head already shiny and leaking a steady stream. His ass flexed as he spread his legs for me, hole already twitching.

I took my time. Sucked that fat cock until my jaw ached and his moans filled the room. Schlick… slurp… gluck… He leaked constantly, sweet and salty on my tongue, hips rolling in little desperate circles. When I finally pulled off he was panting, curly hair sticking to his forehead, pecs heaving.

“Fuuuccckkk meeee,” he begged, voice rough. “Pleeeeaseee, roomie. Need it.”

I prepped him slow and thorough, two fingers, then three, watching his greedy hole swallow them. Every brush over his prostate made his cock jump and spurt more precum onto his abs. By the time I pushed inside him he was babbling—cocky jock talk mixed with desperate begging.

“Holyyyy shittt—yeah, stretch me out—FUCK, your dick feels so good in my ass—been wanting this all week—nngh, deeper, bro, please—”

I fucked him hard and deep, watching those heavy pecs bounce with every thrust, abs flexing, curly hair bouncing, that handsome face slack with pleasure. His cock slapped wetly against his stomach, smearing precum everywhere. The sounds were filthy—skin on skin, wet squelch of lube and precum, his broken moans, my own grunts. I reached down and stroked him in time with my thrusts and he came with a shout, thick ropes painting his chest, some landing on his own face and in his open mouth. His ass clamped down so hard I saw stars and followed him over the edge, pumping deep inside that perfect, twitching hole.

Afterward he lay there wrecked and gorgeous, cum cooling on his skin, chest still heaving, that lazy post-orgasm smirk back in place. He reached up and dragged a finger through the mess on his pec, then sucked it clean with a filthy little sound.

“Round two in ten?” he asked, already half-hard again.

I laughed, low and satisfied, and reached for my phone where it sat on the nightstand. Chronivac still open. I could already see the next tweaks I wanted—maybe make that cock even thicker, or add a little more submissiveness so he’d beg prettier, or turn up the nipple sensitivity until he could cum just from me playing with his chest.

Reece—my Reece—stretched like a big satisfied cat, completely oblivious, completely mine.

“Whatever you want, roomie,” I said, already sliding the sliders. “I’ve got all night.”

And I did. The Chronivac glowed. His body was already starting to respond again, cock twitching, nipples tightening, that perfect ass clenching in anticipation he didn’t understand.

I smiled and hit Apply.

The night was just getting started.

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

Weeks blurred into the best semester of my life. Reece just being a perfect roommate for me in every single way. He's the perfect jock bro who somehow anticipated every need before I even voiced it. He’d wake up early to make me protein-packed breakfasts, shirtless and still sleepy, those heavy pecs swaying as he flipped eggs and hummed off-key. He quizzed me on lecture notes while doing sets of push-ups between my desk and the bed, his pumped chest glistening, that cocky smirk flashing every time I got an answer right. After long nights hunched over textbooks he’d pull me into his lap, big hands kneading the knots out of my shoulders and back until the massage inevitably turned filthy.

And you know the rest of it. He’d fuck me slow and deep right there in the desk chair, one arm braced beside my open textbook, the other stroking my cock in time with his thrusts, whispering encouragement between kisses until we both came in a messy, groaning tangle. And every single time he acted like it was the most natural thing in the world for a bi jock to dote on his stressed-out roommate like this. He had no idea how perfectly I’d programmed him to be exactly what I needed.

Exam week hit hard. I was a wreck—eyes bloodshot, shoulders locked, barely sleeping, stress radiating off me in waves. Reece noticed immediately. He didn’t push, just brought me extra snacks, left little encouraging notes on my desk like “You’re gonna crush it, roomie”, and gave me those long, grounding hugs that always ended with his hand sliding into my sweats for a quick, filthy handjob that left me boneless and a little less panicked. This morning he’d kissed the back of my neck before heading out, murmuring, “Text me if it gets too much. I’ve got you.” I thought that was it.

I was already sitting in class, and almost everyone had already left. One exam was over, and two more were left. I took a deep breath as my phone lit up with a message from him.

Reece:

Hey stressed boy. Saw how tense you looked when you left. Figured my favorite nerd needed something to take the edge off before that exam. Don’t overthink it. You’ve got this. I’m so fucking proud of you.

Come home after and I’ll help you celebrate properly. Love you, bro 💪❤️🍆

Attached was a video.

I opened it with shaking hands, already half-hard from the tone alone.

“Figured you needed a reminder of what’s waiting for you when that exam’s over,” he rumbled, voice low and intimate like he was right there in the room with me.

“Been thinking about you all morning, roomie. How haaaarddd you’re working… how gooood you’re gonna look when you ace this shit.” He wrapped his big hand around the shaft and started stroking—slow, deliberate, wet schlick-schlick sounds filling the audio as more precum leaked steadily, dripping onto the tile between his feet. His balls hung heavy and full, swinging with every stroke.

"These are all pumped for you. Wish you were here so I could shove your face between them while you study.” His strokes sped up, the head of his cock flaring, the wet sounds getting louder and messier.

“Gonna cum for you right now, bro. Think about this load painting your chest later… or filling that tight ass after your exam. You deserve it. You’re gonna do so fucking good.” His breathing grew ragged, that handsome face tightening with pleasure, the cocky smirk melting into something raw and desperate. “Nngh—fuck—here it comes—FUCKKKK—watch me, roomie—”

Reece came hard, thick ropes of cum erupting across his abs and up onto those heavy pecs, some splattering his chin and lower lip. He kept stroking through it, milking every pulse, hips jerking, deep groans echoing in the locker room. When it finally slowed he brought the camera back up to his cum-streaked chest and smirked again, licking a stray drop from his lip.

“There. Now go crush that exam like the smart, sexy nerd you are. I’ll be waiting. Love you.”

The video ended on that smirk and those glistening, cum-covered pecs.

I set the phone down, took a deep breath, and turned back to my notes with a small, private smile. The exam suddenly felt manageable. And when it was over, I knew exactly who would be waiting—shirtless, smirking, already half-hard and ready to help me celebrate in the filthiest, most caring way possible.

Thanks to Chronivac, my annoying homophobic dad was nothing but a distant memory. In his place was Reece—my perfect, ridiculously devoted, best jock roommate ever who somehow always knew exactly how to take care of me.

And I was never letting him go.

He spots her across the living room before anyone else really registers she’s arrived. New face, effortless confidence—his kind of challenge. He takes a second, smooths his shirt, then crosses the room like he already knows how this ends.

“Hey,” he says, easy smile, leaning just enough to feel close without crowding. “You look like you’re deciding whether this party’s worth staying at.”

She glances at him, amused but unreadable.

“I was,” she says. “Still am.”

He chuckles, unfazed. “Give me five minutes. I’ll make it worth it.”

She tilts her head. “You always open like that?”

“Only when I’m right.”

“Confident.”

“Usually rewarded for it.”

“Usually,” she echoes.

He grins, holding eye contact. “Stick around. You’ll see.”

She doesn’t answer. Just watches him, an amused smirk forming on her face. Jake returns the smirk- god she was hot. He couldn't wait to make her...

“Not my type.”

That actually lands. Jake blinks, thrown off, but only for a second. His smile returns quick, “Alright, maybe I started off wrong. Name’s Jake.”

“Lena.”

“So what is your type?”

Her eyes travel over him, slower this time. “Bulky guys aren’t really my thing.”

Jake scoffs, rolling his shoulders. “How can you not be into muscles?”

He flexes his arm, showing off muscle that no woman could resist. Only the peak isn’t as full, the sleeve of his shirt hanging just a bit looser than it did a minute ago. He catches it, but maintains the smile. Figures the lighting is off.

She looks at him, unimpressed, “I said what I said.”

He smirks, leaning closer. “I’m more than just muscle, you know.”

“Mhmm... Doubt that.”

"Yeah?” he smirks, "Give me a chance and I'll prove you wrong." He readjusts his shirt, barely registering how it no longer clings tightly to his chest.

“I'm good." She shrugs, "All that body hair isn't winning you any prizes with me."

Jake huffs a laugh. “What? C’mon! That’s what makes me a real man.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” he says, glancing down as he casually drags his thumb along his forearm- then pauses.

The dark hair there looks… lighter. Thinner. He rubs again against increasingly smoother skin.

“That's... that doesn't make sense.” he mutters, forcing a grin, though his fingers linger.

His other hand comes up, brushing his jaw. He paused. His usual rough stubble is... gone. Like he just shaved. His confidence flickers and he feels a cold shiver run through him as his chest prickles under his shirt.

Jake straightens abruptly. “Woah that's not...” Lena is smiling, a predatory look in her eye, "I... wait here, I'll be right back" He chuckles, nervously- mind racing. He needed a mirror. Just to check. To confirm.

He takes a half step back. Lena leans in just slightly, smiling.

“No, stay,” Her voice lifts. “I’m enjoying our little conversation.” She runs a hand along his smooth jaw, "Please." Jake feels his heart flutter, "Just relax, tough guy."

Jake grunts as the tension drains out of him. He should be on edge. He was on edge. But he feels his posture soften, weight shifting onto one leg, hips angling slightly without permission. His stance opens up. Less guarded, more… inviting.

“Wh-what?”

His lower back arches subtly as he shifts. His stance now blatantly emphasizing his ass. Jake stiffens at that, registering just how exactly he looked standing there.

“No way...” he mutters, trying and failing to address his stance, "I look so..."

He tries to square himself again. To stand with the same commanding presence he usually did. But the adjustment slips, settling back into that same relaxed pose. His ass jutting out, begging for attention.

“You did ask me what my type was." Jake's eyes widen as he realizes he's standing at eye level with Lena now, "But it's so much more than the physical. I like guys who know how to be vulnerable."

Jake swallows, “I mean... yeah, I can be vulnerable,” he says, but it comes out softer, less certain. His shoulders pull in as he talks, frame narrowing further, “It’s just, like... I don’t usually say this stuff out loud, I just kinda… push it down, you know? Be a man about it...” He freezes, “Why am I saying this?” His voice jumps... higher. Whinier.

Lena smiles, "It's okay to open up, Jake."

Jake’s hand flies to his throat. “Okay, no... like why does my voice sound like this? This's not... like, not my voice.” It spikes again, edging toward a whine.

"Jake?" He recognizes that voice, "Dude, what the fuck?"

“Brett!” Jake blurts, cringing at the pitch of his voice, but relief floods in anyway. “Oh my god... thank god you noticed! Something’s like… totally wrong!”

Brett steps in close, brow furrowed. “What happened to you, man?”

“I don’t know!” Jake says quickly, voice light and uneven. “She just, like... started saying stuff and now I’m...”

A sharp snap. Brett goes still. His expression melts, eyes half-lidded, mouth slack. Drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Jake stares, “What? Brett?”

He grabs Brett’s arm instinctively and pauses. His fingers press into Brett’s bicep, lingering a second too long. There’s a flicker of something... appreciation?

Jake jerks his hand back and spins towards Lena, “Like, what did you do to him?!”

Lena barely glances at Brett. “Don’t worry about him,” she says smoothly. “Focus on something more fun. Like gossip… or cute guys.”

Jake tries to hold onto his panic, but her voice threads through it, steady and impossible to ignore. His thoughts begin to blur at the edges, like something is quietly wiping them clean, and before he can latch onto what he’s losing, new ones slip in—lighter, easier, strangely compelling. He finds himself wondering who’s attractive, who gets attention, who deserves it.

Behind him, Lena leans toward Brett, whispering into his ear. Jake turns without meaning to... and this time, he really looks. The line of Brett’s arms, the way his shirt fits across his chest, the way his slacked jaw and dim eyes look.

“Oh wow.” Jake’s breath slows and he licks his lips.

He'd seen Brett in the locker room after games. Knew what he was packing. He never thought much about that. But now? God... he wanted it now. He wanted Brett.

“Now you’re more my type,” Lena looks over Jake carefully, satisfied. “But I doubt I’m yours.”

Jake blinks, still looking at Brett, something warm and fluttery settling in his chest. He lets out a soft, airy laugh, barely even thinking about it.

“Yeah, I mean… like… no offense, but… yeah.” He winces slightly at how natural that felt.

Lena smiles. “So tell me... what is your type?”

Jake doesn’t hesitate this time. He glances back at Brett, eyes lingering, a small, giddy smile slipping through. “I mean… Brett,” he says, almost giggling. “Obviously.”

"He's kinda cute."

“Kinda? Bitch, he's hot." Jake can't believe the words leaving his mouth, but they don't stop, "So like... we're..."

"Besties." Lena grins, "I needed a new gay bestie anyway." She looks over at Brett and snaps her fingers, "And what are besties for?"

Brett's face contorts and settles. The dull look in his eyes shifting as he looks over Jake. Replaced by something hungrier. Jake watches as Brett steps closer, slow, deliberate. His eyes stay locked on Jake.

“Hey,” he says quietly, voice lower than Jake remembers. “You look… different.”

Jake giggles, “Different good, right?”

Brett’s hand comes up, hesitating just a second before brushing along Jake’s waist. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Really good.”

Jake inhales sharply, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans, eyes flicking up through his lashes.

“Wow, okay…” he says, half-giggling. “You’re, like, being really forward right now.”

Brett smirks faintly, closing the space between them. “You don’t seem to mind.”

Jake bites his lip, heat rushing to his face. “I mean… I don't.”

“My room’s just upstairs,” Brett murmurs, leaning in slightly. “You wanna check it out?”

Jake lets out a soft, breathy laugh, glancing back at Lena for half a second before looking up at Brett again. “I mean… yeah,” he says, voice light and a little giddy, fingers brushing Brett’s arm. “Lead the way.”

Lena watches for a beat, satisfied, “Have fun, you two!”

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

Jake moans loudly as Brett slams into him from behind. He arches his back, pushing his fat ass further along Brett's length. His own cock, smaller than he remembered it being, throbbing uselessly. But he doesn't care. Not when he can feel Brett balls deep inside him.

"Fuck yes," Jake gasps out, hands fisting in the sheets beneath him. "Harder, Brett. Fuck me harder." Brett grunts, gripping Jake's hips as he picks up the pace, "Oh fuck!"

Jake couldn't help but cry out in ecstasy each time Brett bottomed out. The same kinda sounds he imagined Lena making if the night had gone differently. But now? His world was narrowing, focused only on the feeling of the dick pounding into his thicc, juicy ass. Because for Jake, nothing else mattered in this moment - not his pride, not his former identity. And it never would again.

Oh aren’t you so CUTE. You fought so hard playing my game tonight with all your cocky jock attitude and bravado. It was so CUTE when you challenged me, saying you could “take my magic” and to “give it “my best shot”. Hell i even said if you did manage to do it I would give you something you desire. But one simple PULSE and that smirk on your face started to waver didn’t it. The tremble in your voice was so CUTE when I called you a “GOOD BOY” and you said you “ weren’t no good boy”. Another pulse and you talked about how easy it was, that you felt nothing as you adjusted yourself, hand snaking down into your pants. But it was so much harder because they were getting tighter. Not cause your cock was growing, no that was a decoration. It was your ass, getting so much fatter. So much thiccer for men to play with, for you to finger while you waited for someone to service your hole. Your hand was already reaching back there now instead yeah. Just another PULSE and you feel your clothes changing, melting off your frame. Skin clearing up as its revealed, till PULSE your just in your underwear PULSE your underwear is changing PULSE your wearing a thong now PULSE Gooood boyyyy PULSE such a nice ass bet it feels empty PULSE you need it PULSE go ahead and get ready for me boy i’ll be there in a second PULSE perfect good boy thanks for getting into position