ZANE PHILLIPS Loot 3x09
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ZANE PHILLIPS Loot 3x09

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Fatso possessing a hunk's body
Harvesting carrots.
jesus christ theyâre all going to carrot heaven
just showed this video to my cousin who is a feudal serf and he threw his cap on the ground like yosemite sam
This monkey man is tested constantly.
ââââââââââââââââââââââ-
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(things that Sun Wukong have said that were flat out not believed by the people who have seen him be correct about this stuff every single time, for years:)
Wukong: That's a demon
Wukong: that's a demon in disguise
Wukong: that house is haunted
Wukong: that's a demon
Wukong: that's a...tree. Master please don't have sex with the tree
Wukong: that's a demon I went to high school with
Wukong: look ok I get this is difficult for you but can you PLEASE just stay put while I scout around, literally just sit there, it's the actual easiest thing you can do in this lifetime, just sit. Ok you didn't sit--
Wukong: (sigh) that's also a demon

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He Really Beefed Up For This Role [Part 1]
The meek young casting director stood before the panel of Marvel Studios executives and movie managers ready to pitch his most recent actor he scouted. With a gulp, he presented a photo and began his speech.
"So, for our new Thor movie, I found a talented Australian actor who I believe is a great fit for your current vison of the character. His name is Chris Hemsworth, he currently works on television soaps in Australia, but I think he has terrific potential for the role. It would be fantastic to get him involved in Hollywood!"
The executives all looked knowingly at each other before turning back to the young man and one asked, "But how big is he?" The casting director felt his stomach drop as he was hoping they wouldn't ask. "Well, his physique is toned and quite athletic. Um, not bulky or very muscular but with the right regimen, he could get, well, very big indeed."
The young man felt his cock twitch a little as imagining that Australian stud with superhero-worthy muscles was a very tantalising fantasy. "U-um but then he also has blonde hair and could be clean shaven or have a beard. You know, I think he's a great choice for us." He was desperately trying to distract the corporate panel but they wouldn't budge. "Has he agreed to a superhero workout plan?" they asked. "No..no he hasn't. He's made it clear he does not want to go through a Hollywood workout and change his body for the role."
He braced himself for the disapproval of the panel. He'd wanted very badly to give Chris this opportunity to break into Hollywood but without being willing to bulk up to the godly standards of Thor, it seemed that chance was lost. He looked at the panel and to his surprise, they were still smiling. "Do you truly believe this, Chris, has potential? In his physique?" "Y-Yes. His body structure and muscles, I think lend themselves very well to a superhero role." The smiles of the executives changed from smiles to chilling smirks. "Then we'll forgo the workout regimen. We have other options available at our disposal."
Other options? The young man was confused. He'd heard a few things about the inner workings of Hollywood and hoped they weren't intending to use steroids or force some other illicit drugs on Chris. An executive shook his head as if reading the young man's mind and grinned. "We'll show you what we mean. Since we have acquired many studios and properties as part of Disney, we have a few options we can use. Send in Blake."
After a moment, an attractive beachgoing guy walked into the room with a beaming smile and eager attitude. He wasn't anything special looks-wise, but he had a decent surfer's bod and nice wavy hair. "Thank you for coming in as a featured extra Blake." an executive said. Blake ran his hand through his hair and tossed it confidently. "Not a problem guys. Happy to be involved and thanks for letting me get a bit extra screentime haha!" Blake was only going to be some kind of extra in a crowd shot somewhere. The casting director thought to himself what the executives could've brought him into the meeting for. "Just to let you guys know by the way, I'm known around my agency for, heh, stealing the show with my handsome looks. While I'm in the background, the camera might be tempted to hang around on me haha! Can you deal with that?"
"Can you!?"
At that moment, a chill ran throughout the entire room as the otherworldly voice echoed from behind Blake causing him and the casting director to jump. Blake quickly turned around and came face to face with a blue transparent man with a wispy tail and an athletic upper body. It was a ghost! Blake screamed in fright and the ghost grinned sinisterly. "Coming through fleshie!!" the ghost yelled as it rammed itself headfirst directly into Blake's mouth.
"GUHMMMFFF!!"
The ghost squeezed through Blake's throat forcing him to open his mouth wide to swallow the ghost's huge pecs first as its upper body wriggled its way into him. As the visible bulge moved down Blake's throat, he tried his hardest to push against the ghost, but he couldn't get any kind of hold on it and eventually he couldn't find the strength to keep his arms up. The ghost's body continued to squirm to get inside Blake as he groaned and gulped down the ghost against his will. With an MMFFF from Blake, the ghost's tail whipped his cheeks as it funneled down Blake's throat and his mouth closed with a POP.
The casting director had been watching in shock and slight arousement at the incredible sight. Blake was breathing heavily and sweating in terror as he felt his body, fearing what was about to happen next. Everyone could see Blake's body had bulked up slightly from the extra presence inside him and he looked all around tighter. An executive spoke up, "You see, a typical workout regimen is no longer always necessary. We can achieve the desired body in our actors like so." Blake looked around in confusion before suddenly there was a BOOM and he started to shimmy and dance around uncontrollably. Ghostly cackling echoed from inside Blake as his body started to transform. His legs stretched upwards as his thighs grew thick and wide. As he twisted around, his asscheeks blew up behind him into huge globes flexing and jiggling behind him.
Blake's groans intensified as he lost more control of his body, with his biceps bursting out of his shirt growing round and powerful. His arms flexed and his pecs exploded outward from his toned flat chest into a huge pair of bouncy basketballs. They swelled and flexed demonstrating their power. The casting director was losing himself in the sight of Blake morphing into a massive hunk, completely at the mercy of the ghost inside him. His skin had become like rubber as it stretched loudly filling with incredible muscle.
Blake yelled as he was losing himself and his head shook around from side to side as the ghost was filling it. Adjusting his facial structure, morphing it with a rubbery groan. Finally as Blake spun and danced around one last time, with a BOOOM, his whole body tensed and flexed as he was now under the ghost's complete control. A sweaty masculine smell now emanated from the transformed man.
Blake looked directly at the others with an arrogant smirk. He had completely turned into a big buff beefcake! He flexed his muscles, watching them ripple and bulge with power, and he laughed with a deep dominating voice that wasn't his own. "This fleshie is gonna be a superstar when I'm through with him!" Blake grunted with a cocky smile as his cock inflated to a huge size and sprung forward in his shorts with a BOING! He immediately reached down and pulled it out with no shame as he jerked off in front of the panel, flexing as he did it. The casting director could see that every part of Blake had grown thick and beefy, including that cock, and Blake noticed his gaze too.
"Hey little fleshie, you want a hunk like me to show you what I can do with these muscles?
"That's enough. Go ahead to the gym and do your work. We want him to be as beefy as possible"
"Hehe, you got it boss. I'll make Blake into a total MAN in no time! He'll never be that small again."
Blake stuffed his big cock back in his shorts, bounced his pecs then turned and strutted out of the room with his butt jiggling behind him. Every step boomed with weight and his supernatural muscles squeaked like rubber with each movement. The casting director finally had a chance to breathe and the executives spoke to him again. "Since we acquired those ghost characters from another studio, we've been able to make our male actors as big and dumb and obsessed with muscle as we want. If Chris has as much potential as you say he does, then we can't take his no for an answer. We're going to make him big!"
"A-and just how 'big' are you g-going to make him?" The casting director asked cautiously. The executives only laughed off his pitiful question as there was a sudden shift in the air and a gigantic male shadow rose up from behind covering the room. The casting director turned around slowly and could only gulp when he saw the entity behind him...
TO BE CONTINUED
LMFAO
Spirited Away (2001) dir. Hayao Miyazaki
omg? hey oomf! *smothers you with my chest*

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Jason Momoa and Michael Bergin Baywatch 11.01 "Soul Survivor"
Runner's Gas
âWell if it isnât our little Spark!â Brick playfully taunted, twisting around the black cap on his head. âLooking to catch up to the big leagues?â
Aaron rolled his eyes, continuing to stretch out his toned, limber legs. âWhat, are you afraid Iâm going to catch up to your varsity team?â
Brick smirked. âYou wouldnât dare.â As captain, and the fastest runner on the team, the college senior was proud of his position on top.
âMaybe I would,â Aaronâs smile held that youthful glow all overachievers had. Although he was only a sophomore, he had been sweeping competitions left and right. No one was able to beat him and his âspark of energyâ that was always reserved for the last second, hence his nickname.
âWhat do you say we put it to the test?â Brick prompted, his lithe frame already warmed up after a few quick laps. Besides being a bit taller than Aaron, their runnerâs builds were almost identical.Â
âIf youâre willing to lose,â Aaron cockily replied, enjoying the friendly competition. He could feel the build of adrenaline slowly pumping throughout his veins. A brisk wind was lightly pushing against them, tickling their bare skin. âMind if I lunge once or twice?â
âNot at all,â Brick remarked, taking his place a few steps behind. âGives me a chance to take in your backside, seeing as I won't have the pleasure of viewing it again.â
Aaron followed through with his final stretches, feeling his slim muscles flex and retract appropriately. He was excited for this challenge, pleasantly daunted to be taking on his schoolâs top champ. Their times had been fairly similar, but being in different leagues had meant the two had never been able to compete.
Getting lost in his own head, Aaron did not realize his bowels were rapidly processing information. His body was inappropriately following through with hereditary protocols, having accidentally registered Brick as a threat. Finishing his final lunge, Aaron registered the dreadful rippling in his stomach. But at that point, there was no stopping what was coming next. Aaronâs excitement immediately twisted into fear.
âWatch out!â
PPPPHHHRRTTTT!
Brick had no time to prepare as a massive fart cloud was carried downwind directly into his face. The flatulence bombarded him, its odorous vapors blinding him temporarily and knocking him onto his flat bottom. Aaron immediately rushed in, desperately searching for a way to reverse what had been done. Luckily no one had seen the incident, as the chemical reaction that was about to ensue wasâas far as Aaron knewâunreversable.
Brick was sitting back comfortably, dazed and desensitized by the preyâs natural defense. Aaron had accidentally attacked the college senior with runnerâs gas. An evolutionary condition, runnerâs gas was a fumigation technique used by âweakerâ species to protect themselves against predators. The flatulence released altered the predatorâs abilities, rendering them bulkier, slower, and dumber, allowing the prey to flee. It was a genetic trait that should have eroded away with evolution, particularly as humans grew more alike. But some were still left with the condition, making its activation incredibly rare and almost always unintentional.
Aaron watched helplessly as Brickâs skin began to ripple. The track starâs body expanded in size, growing taller, longer, and larger. Muscle exploded across his frame, destroying the slim physique by covering it in layer after layer of pure-grade beef. Rounded arms led into broader shoulders, pillowy pecs led straight down to a thicker pack of eight abdominals. Thighs bulked into true haunches, feet so large that their width would prevent them from travelling quickly without the risk of tripping.
As Brickâs buttocks and pouch inflated, Aaronâs eyes trailed up along his victim's body, following the swarm of hair that swiftly painted itself along the surface of skin. He could do nothing as Brickâs jaw cracked into a square shape, as his forehead pushed itself a bit farther out, or as the twinkle of intelligence was dimmed in his eyes. As quick as it had come, the chemical reaction rapidly subsided, leaving behind a new dumb jock in its wake.
âHeyâŚâ Aaron cautiously poked, the college senior now twice his size. He knew they would have to move before anyone saw them. There was one person in particular that he feared. âCome on, we need to get you out of here before-â
âMcNeal!âÂ
The coachâs gruff shout sent a shiver under Aaronâs skin. He was too late.
âWhat is this, your fifth one?â The coach was shaking his head as he approached. âItâs one thing to be gassing the competition, but your own team?âÂ
âItâŚit was an accident,â Aaron stared at his own feet, embarrassed.
The coach huffed, âWho was it this time?â The affected party was still sitting on the ground, brainwashed and stretching his new muscles slowly. âMcNealâŚis this my captain?!â
Aaron said nothing. They both watched as the dumb jock began to take in his surroundings.
âBrock,â the coach provided the former captain with a new name. âWhat are you doing on the track? Football practice takes place on the other side of the complex.
Brock took a moment to process this. âOh right...." his chuckle was lifeless. âHuhuhuhâŚI can be so stupid sometimes.â Aaron and the coach simply observed as Brock accepted this new reality.
âLuckily for you,â the coach sighed. âWe needed a few more boys on the football team.â
Discarded Gym Clothes
Jared slumped on the cold bench in the locker room, staring despondently at the floor. It was his fourth time here, and he still felt so out of place. He was comfortable with the cardio machines, but the weightlifting area? That was an entirely different worldâa world of animalistic grunting, clanging metal, and guys twice his size throwing weights around like toys. He had hovered near them earlier, feeling like an intruder in a foreign land, before retreating to the safety of the locker room. He desperately wanted to be like them but had no idea where to even start.
As he sat there, stewing in his frustrations, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention: a dirty black tank top lay crumpled on the bench across from him, stained with sweat and reeking of body odor. Next to it was a damp, oversized pair of gray sweatpants that similarly reeked. They looked as though they had been left behind by one of those jacked gym regulars that he was too intimidated to approach.
He reached out hesitantly, hoping to bring them to the lost and found. His fingers brushed against the damp fabric. âGross,â he muttered, wrinkling his nose at the sensation. Yet, despite the dampness and rankness of the clothes, he couldnât bring himself to leave them for someone else to deal with. His gaze lingered on the worn material, imagining the kind of person who had worn it: strong, confident, sexy. Everything he wasnât.
Maybe the person was coming back? After all, there are showers in the locker room, perhaps they had simply forgotten to put their dirty gym clothes in their locker. But his body refused to listen to his brain. His arms began moving with a mind of their own. Before he could realize what he was doing and second-guess himself, he had stripped off his shorts, picked up the sweatpants, and slid them over his slim legs. The pair was still warm from the person's previous workout, and the front crotch area felt... crusty..? Jared was bewildered by the betrayal of his body. He hadn't meant to do any of this... why did he put on these gross sweatpants? In response, his arms ripped off his shirt and brought the filthy tank top over his torso, seemingly without him even intending to do so. The tank top was loose, hanging awkwardly off his skinny frame. It was almost disturbingly damp, as though the person who had worn it before him had taken a shower with it... and had never worn deodorant before. Before he had a chance to question what had happened, the tank top settled over his shoulders, and a strange, euphoric warmth spread through him, clouding his mind and releasing his inhibitions. He felt... different.
His eyes flicked over to the mirror on the wall. The clothes still looked oversized, but they didnât seem ridiculous anymore. They looked... right. He looked at the door leading back to the gym floor, and for the first time, he felt the urge to head to the weight rack.
Walking through the gym floor, his eyes looked past the judgemental stares in his direction for wearing the oversized set of clothes. He didn't notice people fixate on the stains on the crotch or the fact that the tank top was still dripping with sweat. His ears tuned out the gags at the stench they exuded. Jared simply made a beeline for the squat rack. Using his minimal knowledge from observing the gymbros, Jared loaded the barbell with weights and placed himself underneath the barbell, the modest weight balanced awkwardly on his shoulders. Heâd never been here beforeâmentally or physically. This was uncharted territory, but somehow it felt like he knew what he was doing and always had. As he squatted down and pushed back up, he felt a flicker of something he hadnât felt before.
He racked the bar, stepped back, and froze. A faint tingling sensation rippled across his chest and shoulders. It started subtlyâlike an itch, he couldnât quite placeâbut soon intensified into a deep, pulsing, orgasmic warmth. Jared glanced at the mirror and his jaw dropped.
The first change he noticed was his hair. It puffed slightly, the dark brown lightening ever so slightly slightly. Strands began to coil and curl, framing his face as if they were growing right before his eyes. The curls bounced slightly with every breath, thick and untamed as if heâd spent years cultivating the perfect gym-bro mane.
Then he felt his chest suddenly tighten. Jared gasped, grabbing at his pecs instinctively. They felt heavier, denserâlike a pump from a workout that wouldnât fade. His fingers sank into firm muscle, his once-flat chest expanding outward into two solid slabs. He rubbed his chest, in awe of just how much there was to grab. The damp fabric of the tank top, which had hung limply before, now clung to his pecs. His firm nipples were visible through the tank top, which was now skin-tight. The weight of his chest pulled his shoulders back, giving him an imposing, confident posture.
The heat spread to his arms. Jared watched, transfixed, as his biceps began to swell. They grew rounder, and thicker, the veins snaking across them like rivers on a map. His forearms followed suit, the muscles twisting and bulging with newfound definition. His hands, once narrow and delicate, grew rough and calloused, his fingers thicker and more powerful. When he curled his fingers into a fist, it felt like he could crush steel.
Next came his shoulders and back. His shoulders rounded out like firm cannonballs, broadening his frame and making the tank top look as though it was going to burst from his frame. His traps rose like mountains on either side of his neck, which thickened and became more pronounced. Turning to the side, Jared caught a glimpse of his back in the mirrorâit was wide, a tapestry of ridges and grooves that looked like theyâd been carved by years of hard work.
The sensation moved down to his core. His stomach tightened and hardened, his abs popping into view one by one. A deep V-shaped groove appeared, leading down from his chiseled obliques to his hips. He ran a hand over his stomach, marveling at how solid it felt, the faint sheen of sweat highlighting every ridge.
Then his legs began to change. Jared stumbled, grabbing the squat rack for balance as his thighs expanded, the muscles growing so fast they pushed against the fabric of the once-too-large sweatpants. His quads and calves flared out with each stumble for balance, now thick and powerful, while his ass ballooned to gargantuan proportions, tightening his sweatpants even further and taking up valuable space for his swelling cock, which grew longer and thicker. A soft moan escaped his lips before he could stifle it as his now massive cock began to leak.
Through his orgasmic bliss while leaning against the squat rack, caught a glimpse of his reflection. His face had changed, tooâhis jawline was sharper, his cheekbones more pronounced. His once-boyish features now carried a rugged, masculine edge. His neck was thick and corded with muscle, tying the whole look together.
He couldn't take it anymore. He let out an animalistic gruntâjust like the men who weightlift in the gym always doâas he cummed intensely into his too-tight sweatpants. His vision blurred with the orgasmic pleasure induced by his sudden shift in physique. Drool escaped from his lips as he was consumed by the unadulterated euphoria he now felt. Finally, with one last buck of his wide, muscular hips, he finished, and he began to try and compose himself.
He breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling with power. The tank top clung to his body now, soaked with sweat and reeking of effort. His scent filled the airâraw, earthy, and undeniably potent. Jared would have been embarrassed by it before, but now it felt like part of who he was.
He reached up to adjust the tank top, marveling at how his fingers grazed against the boulder-like mounds of his pecs. Turning back to the squat rack, he loaded more plates onto the bar. This time, when he lifted it, it felt like nothing.
Jared racked the barbell with a satisfying clang, stepping back to catch his breath. The weight heâd just squatted was something he wouldnât have dared to attempt in his wildest dreams. Now, it felt like he couldâve added double the plates. His chest heaved as he inhaled deeply, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and cum.
He turned toward the mirror again, marveling at the sheer size of his new physique. Every inch of him seemed sculpted as if chiseled from stone. His tank top clung to his massive chest, the sweat-soaked fabric outlining every groove of his pecs and abs. His biceps bulged with each subtle movement, and his shoulders looked broad enough to fill the entire mirror.
âDamnâŚâ Jared muttered, his voice low and resonant now. He grinned, unable to resist flexing his arms for the mirror. The peak of his bicep rose like a mountain, veins snaking across the surface. He turned slightly, watching how his back flared out like wings, tapering down to his impossibly tight waist.
Jared glanced around, then pulled his phone out from his gym bag. This body wasnât something he could keep to himself. Standing in front of the mirror, he adjusted his stance, planting his legs wide to show off his tree-trunk legs. He flexed his arms again. The lighting in the gym was perfect. He snapped a photo, making sure to catch the curve of his biceps, the sharp cut of his jawline, and the unapologetic confidence in his smirk.
Satisfied, he tossed his phone back into his bag, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. For the first time in his life, Jared felt not just strongâbut unstoppable.
Jared slung his gym bag over his shoulder, his massive arm flexing with the motion. The straps dug slightly into his broad, muscular shoulders, but he barely noticed. His chest still glistened with sweat, the tank top clinging to him like a second skin. Each step he took toward the exit felt heavy with purpose, his powerful thighs threatening to burst from his sweatpants and his calves popping with every stride.
As he pushed open the gym doors, the cool air hit his sweat-drenched skin, refreshing and invigorating. Jared took a moment to breathe deeply, his massive chest rising and falling. He grinned to himself as he strode across the parking lot
His car was, dwarfed by his hulking presence. Jared swaggered toward it, moving with an effortless macho bravado. His biceps brushed against his sides as he walked, forcing his arms to swing slightly outward. The scent of his workout still hung around himâsweaty, musky, and undeniably masculine.
Sliding into the driverâs seat, he felt the car groan slightly under his new weight. The steering wheel felt smaller in his powerful hands, and the seatbelt stretched tight across his chest, barely able to contain the bulk of his pecs. He caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror and smirked. The jacked, curly-haired bodybuilder staring back at him was a far cry from the skinny kid who had driven here earlier.
He adjusted the mirror to take in more of his reflection. His jawline looked razor-sharp, his hair wild and tousled from the workout, and his shoulders seemed to crowd the frame. Jared couldnât help but flex a little as he reached for the ignition, veins popping along his forearm.
The car roared to life, and Jared revved the engine, enjoying the vibrations running through his chest. He shifted into gear, peeling out of the parking lot. His smirk widened as he turned onto the main road, his car rumbling like a predator on the prowl.
Jared didnât know exactly where he was going, but it didnât matter one bit. His new life wasnât about the destinationâit was about the ride. And, man was he ready to take his body for one hell of a ride.

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