scott

Julian and Olivia had just gotten married to each other, and upon returning to their generous suburban home (thanks to their families’ combined wealth), Julian surprised her with plane tickets for their honeymoon in Japan. “Oh my god, babe, you shouldn’t have!” squealed Olivia as she dived in for a hug, her husband smirking as he knew he’d just guaranteed himself some pussy tonight.

A week or so later, they’d arrived in Tokyo, and after the 15 hour flight they were practically ready to collapse. Neverless, they stepped into their chauffeured luxury car they’d booked in advance, which swept them along the urban highways past the dazzling city night lights to their hotel. It turned out, in reality, to be closer to Yokohama, but it was 3am and one of the most luxurious spa hotels in the city - so it’s not like they were too bothered.

They quickly checked in, not having the energy to appreciate the surrounds as they fumbled their bags to their penthouse suite. As they were checking in, they noticed a large group of men in white sports uniforms checking in at the same time - Julian couldn’t tell what sport they played, he just knew they looked like beefier soccer players and were definitely not Japanese.

Arriving at their door, Olivia scanned the key card and pushed the door open, revealing the most extravagant hotel room imaginable, prompting her to gasp, “Oh my god, it’s beautiful,” as Julian smiled smugly behind her. “Sure is, sweetie.” Using the last of their energy, they dumped their cases on the floor and stripped down to their underwear before diving onto the king-size bed with its plump cushions and mattress and within a few minutes falling fast asleep.

A couple of hours later, Julian’s eyes snapped open. His skin felt, somehow, extremely uncomfortable and itchy, “This hotel got fuckin’ bedbugs or something?” he muttered to himself in frustration. He started to scratch himself furiously, and found that his skin had taken on a rough, almost leathery texture. “The fuck...?” he mumbled, noticeably pale. “Babe, wake up,” he said, giving the shape of his wife’s body a nudge through the blanket.

Olivia turned onto her side, and let out a deep groan, which startled him slightly. As she turned to him, mumbling, “What is it...” in a distinctly deeper tone than before, Julian could see her face. It seemed almost squarer, and somehow she had a very light coating of stubble on her chin. Her eyebrows were a little thicker, and her long brown hair was distinctly shorter. Julian could only assume that he was dreaming, after all, how the fuck does someone change like that in a couple of hours?

While Olivia seemed totally oblivious, Julian was able to see the rest of her changes when she pulled over the bedsheet to step out of bed and get herself a glass of water. Her arms and legs were thicker, looking borderline muscular, and her breasts were a bit smaller and flatter. She seemed slightly taller too, and her ass was actually more plump-looking - and was now somehow contained in a pair of boxer briefs rather than lingerie. On top of that, those briefs seemed to have a very slight protrusion in the front, like her clit had swollen up.

Julian stuttered, “You look... different...” as he stared at her in shock. Olivia checked the mirror before turning to face him, responding in her new voice, “What are you talking about? I suppose I might need to shave soon...” while rubbing her chin nonchalantly. Julian decided he was definitely dreaming at this point, and decided to just try and get back to sleep, pulling the covers over himself and trying to ignore his skin.

However, he quickly failed at this, yelling out in agony as his own body started to change - Olivia paying no attention. His body forced himself into a fetal position, while his skin raised into permanent goosebumps and turned porcelain white all over his body. His knees and thighs sunk into his stomach, with his calves and feet wrapping around and merging into his ass. He would have been sobbing if his mouth hadn’t sealed itself shut, at the same time as his hair fell out and his nose flattened into his face. He started losing his vision just as his arms were absorbed into his egg-shaped torso, which started smoothing out and losing any sort of hints of his former limbs. Internally screaming, what was left of his head retracted into his torso, as a blue and green pattern appeared around the pointed parts of Julian’s smooth leathery egg-body, which finally shrank down to about a foot long rugby ball.

Despite his new form, the absolutely distressed Julian found that he could still think and feel, as well see with a limited range. Thanks to this, he could see the happily unbothered Olivia going through her final changes. Her shoulder-length hair rapidly retreated into her scalp, leaving her with a short, practical haircut while her stubble slightly thickened. Her face finished its masculinisation and was now totally unrecognisable, and her neck thickened along with her new Adam’s apple. Her flattened boobs swelled back up, this time as luscious pecs, with an impressive thick set of abs to match them.

Julian found himself getting aroused at the sight of this hunky new man forming in front of him, and yelled in his mind, “What the fuck!? I’m not gay!” which did not make him any less turned-on. Olivia’s arms and already firm biceps bulked up considerably, enough to stretch any shirt she would ever wear, and her hands thickened to complete them. Her legs swelled up with pure muscle dramatically, into those which only a professional rugby player could have, with her new boxer briefs already on the brink of bursting. That was not at all helped with her already expanded ass growing just a little bit more, and her former swollen clit rapidly inflating into a full-blown 9-inch uncut cock, complete with a pair of churning balls.

Julian could think of nothing but Olivia. Despite his internal protests, his mind was now totally rewired so that when Olivia - Owen, rather - approached him and picked him up with his meaty hands, even his touch feeling like a full-body orgasm to Julian. Owen put him down for a moment to pull on his white perfectly tight-fitting rugby jersey and shorts, slid his boots onto his significantly larger feet, before picking Julian back up with a very firm grip - another debilitatingly pleasurable orgasm. “Fuckin’ hate getting up early for games,” the English rugby player groaned, heading out of the luxury of the bedroom for the stadium to meet the rest of the national team with his duffel bag over his wide shoulders and Julian in hand.

(Slightly belated) birthday gift for @grant-spiraltf!

It was Grant’s birthday, and he didn’t really have any plans - just chilling out in his flat in his pajamas and going out for a meal later on. At about 1pm, however, he got a knock at the door. Reluctantly getting up off the sofa, he opened the door to a bored-looking delivery man, who handed over a small parcel and simply said, “Package for Grant.” He then made his way back down the stairs, before Grant closed the door and placed the package on his kitchen counter. He tore the paper apart, revealing a small, flat cardboard box. Intrigued, he lifted the lid off the box to reveal a neatly folded pair of bright blue lycra boxer briefs. Under Armour, from the looks of it. As he held them up to admire the anonymous present, he revealed a flattened black baseball cap in the bottom of the box, and a small card reading simply, “Enjoy, Scott”. Grant chuckled, and discarded the note into the bin, before inspecting the underpants closely. “Bet that cunt’s done something to them,” he laughed, before stripping off his pajamas regardless and slipping the briefs on. “They’re snug,” he remarked, walking over to the mirror in his bedroom to check out how they framed his ass. Not that he was surprised, but as he checked it out, his two cheeks inflated as if someone was blowing air into them. Grant grinned, giving his firm bubble butt a squeeze. He knew that Scott’d pull through with something like this. Next, a sudden squeeze in his crotch alerted him that his balls had just swollen up, and that his cock was thickening up nicely, forming a hefty bulge in his new garment. His skinny thighs then bulked up significantly into those of a bodybuilder, stretching the briefs until they almost seemed ready to split in two - noticeably losing the light covering of hair they previously had. “Wow,” Grant laughed, “This feels fuckin’ great,” in a cocky new tone. His calves followed suit, also losing their hair, making his legs look well-proportioned, before his feet creaked longer, rendering the shoes he currently owned obsolete. Grant was looking forward to the next part. The small amount of fat on his stomach was quickly pulled right, before being converted into a solid six-, bordering on eight-pack, the like of which he’d never seen in person before. Next, his flat chest swelled out suddenly, ballooning out into a bouncy pair of almost breast-like pecs, soft and pillowy in contrast to his firm ass. Grant took his hand and gave his pecs a quick squeeze, his new cock jolting as his fingers brushed against his newly sensitive nipples, muttering, “Fuck, I look good,” under his breath. With a crunch, his shoulders widened and muscle was piled onto his back, and his biceps doubled in size almost instantly, a couple of veins snaking their way down his arm. He flexed his bicep with a smug grin, with his fingers thickening simultaneously. His neck thickened slightly as he was forced to cough, his voice deepening as he did, and his jaw reshaped itself to become wide and masculine. The rest of his face changed rather drastically - his ears enlarged, his brows thickened, and his lips thinned, before it was topped off with a decent coating of facial hair as the cherry on top. Grant lumbered his way back to the sleek, modern kitchen to grab the cap, placing it on top of his new head of short, well-groomed hair, and in doing so rearranged his memories, going from a student to a bodybuilder, and reconnecting all of his relationships and family to match his new body. Returning to the mirror, Ryan admired himself, rubbed his stubble, and in his thick English accent stated, “Fuck, I’m a beauty,” with a wide grin.

“Well, thanks for your time, and good luck with the race!” Laura concluded, smiling broadly at the two cyclists. She didn’t really have much interest in the sport, but the local news station she worked as a reporter for needed someone at short notice to cover the cycling race nearby, and she was the only one available.

The two men smiled in return, and turned around to make their way to get ready for the race. As they walked away, Laura couldn’t help but stare at the impressive rear end vacuum-packed into the blue outfit of the English cyclist she’d been interviewing, Matt, as it bounced from side to side as he sauntered away. After a few seconds, she looked away and shook her head. She had a boyfriend now after all, she couldn’t keep looking at guys like this anymore.

The cameraman, Andy, snapped her out of her trance-like state by announcing, “Alright, so now we should head over to the track so we can get in position to cover the race.” Laura agreed, and the pair of them walked for roughly ten minutes to get to the press area by the side of the track, where several cyclists had already gathered and some other journalists were waiting with their cameras, looking rather unimpressed. As she waited for Andy to set up his camera again, one of the other reporters approached her and said, “Don’t bother rushing, apparently one of the racers has disappeared off somewhere. That Matthew bloke.” Laura was a little taken aback, but after talking to a few other journalists and event organisers, none of whom knew where he was, decided to take it upon herself to try and find him.

She left her microphone with Andy as he continued to set up the camera, and headed away from the crowds to the small car park which housed the trailers which the cyclists used as changing rooms. She found the one which had Matt’s name written on the door, and knocked. Not getting a response, she tried the handle, which was apparently unlocked as she managed to swing the door open. Scanning the room, Matt was nowhere to be seen. However, she did notice one odd thing. On the grey couch at the side of the room, the clothes which Matt had been wearing during the interview were spread and wrinkled and - oddest of all - were totally covered inside and out in a strange peach-coloured goop.

Puzzled, Laura stepped closer and crouched down to get a closer look at it. Those were definitely his clothes, and the distribution of the goop was vaguely human-shaped, with most of it seemingly pooled inside the skinsuit, and with clumps at the head and arm openings of the suit, as well as two long clumps roughly connecting the legs of the suit and his shoes. She murmured, “What the fuck...” to herself, and after a few seconds of deliberation gingerly poked her finger into the goo, surprised at the viscosity and stickiness of it. When she tried to retreat her hand away, her eyes widened as the goop stayed wrapped around her finger and formed a firm string between it and the pile. She tried to shake it off, but in response the goop shot up onto her hand, and started crawling up her arm. She shrieked to no avail, as the entire pool of goop around the suit slid underneath her clothes, feeling like a slightly warm slime.

Laura’s heart racing, the movement of the goop slowed a little as it reached the top of her arms, as she noticed something going on. With all of goop from the couch now on her body, the part that covered her hands had gained a skin-like texture and tightly pulled itself around them, so that it seemed as if the goop actually was her hands. However, they were different from her normal hands: bigger for one, and her fingers seemed thicker. A similar thing had happened to her forearms, going from slim and dainty to thick with veins slightly visible under her skin, and her upper arms as the goop flowed onto her torso. The goop pulled itself tightly around her biceps, with more of the substance moving into the area to build onto it like clay, leaving her with firm muscle once the goop settled. Laura wasn’t particularly... opposed to whatever what going on with her body, more just, well, confused.

The goop continued to slip under her dress onto her chest, and she felt her breasts become totally covered. She was forced to let out a groan as the goop firmly pushed them into her chest, flattening them completely and seemingly absorbing them into the goop. In their place, she found the goop piling itself onto her as with her biceps to grow her two pillowy pectorals, almost as big as what was there before, and with two surprisingly pointed nipples to adorn them - stretching the fabric of her dress, along with her shoulders which had also had some mass added to them.

The goop then moved in both directions across her body, with one part going down and swallowing up her abdomen, widening her midsection with goop being piled onto her waist, and firming up her stomach, leaving her with a faint trace of a six-pack, covered by a very light layer of fat. While this was happening however, the goop was also quickly heading up Laura’s neck, thickening it a little on its journey. She was about to let out a scream, before the goop slid up her face and dove into her mouth and nostrils, and completely covered her eyes. With it sliding down her throat, she found herself blinded and unable to breathe for several seconds as she felt the goop’s movement stop at the top of her head. Once her mouth was cleared and her vision was restored she gasped for air loudly, clumsily pawing at her face with her manly hands and looking around the room for a mirror.

As she jogged to the mirror, she could feel that her face was certainly shaped and textured differently, and her long blonde locks no longer fell over her chest. Reaching the mirror, she realised that her face was that of an entirely different person. First off, this was the face of a man, clearly. She had a wider and firmer jaw, and her long blonde hair had disappeared somewhere only to be replaced with a head of short brown hair. Her nose was wider and her nostrils more flared, and the tip of her nose had taken on a red tinge. However, one thing become quickly apparent to her - this was Matt’s face. She was turning into Matt.

This was further backed up as the goop descended to her hips, and coated her ass generously. Trying to look around to watch, she watched as it swelled up further and further, until the back of her already-strained dress was pushed out by the unmistakable bubble butt belonging to Matt which she had been staring at just a short while prior. Her mouth gaped at the sight of it, and her first reaction was to reach a meaty hand around and give it a squeeze - wow. If that was even possible, that felt better than she expected. As terrifying as this change was, that was one part she really appreciated.

In contrast, the next area the goop covered brought on the changes that Laura was the most scared about. She shivered as it covered her clitoris and moulded it underneath her dress with piles of the goop, shaping it like a clay vase thicker and longer, becoming more phallic and firm as it grew. While this was happening, her labia reshaped itself into a scrotum with two decently-sized testicles appearing within. By now, her dress was tented by what was very much a penis, which had reached an above-average - she guessed - length, and a hefty girth, definitely bigger than her boyfriend’s, at least. She tenderly gave it a couple of strokes through the fabric, and gasped at the fantastic sensation she felt from this new part of her body. However, she decided not to go all the way with it just yet.

The final stages of her changes started as the goop began to pile itself onto her slim thighs. Judging from what she’d seen of Matt earlier, these legs were going to be something to behold, and she was certainly not wrong. Her quads continued to swell up further and further, and as they finally settled to their new size, Laura’s eyes widened. She hadn’t had time to appreciate them when she first saw Matt, but now she realised that these were probably the biggest legs she’d ever seen on anyone - never mind herself! The goop continued onto her calves, expanding them to similar extents to her thighs and making her legs as a whole look more well-proportioned. Finally, the last dregs of the goop covered her feet, expanding them several sizes to what she’d expect for this new body.

Laura stared at herself - or rather, Matt’s self - up and down in the mirror and tried to get to grips with the situation. One thing that stood out was how poorly her dress, ripped in several places, fit her new body. Testing her strength, she managed to totally tear off the dress with her hands, triumphantly throwing it on the floor, and after managing to squeeze herself out of her underwear found herself naked in the mirror. She flexed a bicep in the mirror, and grinned to herself, laughing, “Maybe I could get used to this,” before covering her mouth. Woah. She was not expecting to sound like that. Her voice was deeper, naturally, and now had Matt’s charming accent.

After a couple more minutes of checking herself out in the mirror and giving herself a squeeze here and there, Laura realised that she’d probably have to turn up and pretend to be Matt so the organisers wouldn’t think that he’d gone missing. Scanning the room for something to wear, her eyes settled on Matt’s previous outfit that’d been covered in the goop, which was now miraculously clean, as if it had never even been there. She grabbed the shorts, stepping into them, and wriggled them up her legs until they were wrapped around her monster thighs as tightly as possible, managing to tuck her now-calmed cock into them. She pulled the shorts’ straps over her shoulders, before managing to pull the event jersey over her shoulders, zipping the front up and pulling the sleeves up until her biceps were snugly covered. She then strapped on the shoes and pulled on the gloves, before putting on the sunglasses and strapping in her helmet to prepare for the race. Laura checked herself out in the room’s mirror one last time, before heading off to the race.

Now, she wasn’t totally sure how she’d actually be able to do this race, considering she hadn’t been near a bike since she was a child. On the other hand, she also had vague recollections of participating in many cycling racing throughout her life. These conflicting memories confused her, unable to tell which was the truth, but as long as she could get through this race she’d be fine. As she walked across the car park towards the arena, she felt more and more confident about her ability to participate in the race successfully, remembering details about some of her competitors even. However, she did find even walking in this body a struggle, the size of her legs forcing her into more of a waddle, so she didn’t really know how she could expect to do well cycling. Also - how was her boyfriend going to react? She wasn’t sure she could even go back to him like this, and after all, didn’t she have a girlfriend back home in England? That didn’t sound right - did it?

A few minutes later, she had made her way to the starting line at the track, after being shouted at by a couple of the organisers for disappearing out of nowhere. She did retort back to them, something she’d never really done before, but otherwise didn’t make a fuss. She noticed the cameraman on his own, looking slightly worried - what was his name, Aaron? - but now she was focussed on trying to win this race. She was still nervous about it, of course, but she felt this newfound adrenaline and cockiness - had remembered how to actually cycle! The referee shot the starting gun, and Laura sped along the track with the other racers. Not that she was focusing on them, anyway, but she managed to overtake them one by one.

After a few minutes of intense physical activity, Laura crossed the finish line in a respectable second, which she was more than happy with! She smacked her firm chest with her hands, before spreading her arms apart, basking in the (albeit fairly small) crowd’s cheers. At that moment, she felt that this future life wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Secret Santa for @santaclaraproject! Not really Christmas themed at all, but consider this my Christmas special regardless ;)

Allen needed to get into shape. He’d been putting it off for so long now, but now he was going to take action. He signed up for a membership with his local fitness centre, and was going to start swimming at its pool before work every day. Once he arrived for the first time with his towel and goggles in hand, he walked into the disgustingly yellow changing rooms and came to a realisation. He’d completely forgotten his shorts. Sighing, he turned around to head back home, when he noticed something on one of the benches - a pair of swimming trunks! Okay, just using some random’s shorts was kind of gross, but he was really dedicated to starting this habit. Fuck it, he’d have to put up with it for today. He looked around nervously, before snatching them and ducking into one of the changing rooms. Once he’d removed his clothes and slid on the trunks, he realised that they were pretty baggy on him, but he shrugged it off and walked towards the poolside. After all, if he was going to actually try to make an effort for this, he couldn’t just go home straight away!

Allen pulled the goggles onto his head and approached the pool - it was totally dead thanks to arriving so early in the morning, and he noticed one thing in particular. The diving board was free! He’d always wanted to try it out, but there was either a ridiculous queue, or there were far too many people around for him to not be scared of making a fool of himself. But now, he had free reign. He pulled himself up the ladder, and gingerly walked to the end, where it dawned upon him that he didn’t actually really know what he was doing. Should he just bounce and then... jump off? Fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen. As he bounced over the edge, he tried to get into a more aerodynamic position in the few seconds he had before plunging into the pool, and then... smack. He must have passed out for a moment, because when he recovered from his daze, he’d surfaced and was treading water. His vision was blurred and his hearing muffled, but he could make out... clapping? Once his eyes adjusted a bit more, he saw that on either side of the pool were several rows of seats filled with people clapping and cheering, and in front was a panel of people clapping also. In addition to his heavy and slowed movement, which he could only put down to tiredness, he felt like he was dreaming or something. Regardless, Allen swam to the side of the seemingly larger pool, finding that the previously baggy shorts he had borrowed felt perfectly comfortable now. As he reached the side of the pool with the panel, he lifted himself out with newfound upper body strength, and an excitable man thrust a microphone in front of him, and started blabbering in a language unfamiliar to Allen. Russian? Ukrainian? He had no clue.

However, his eyes drifted away to scan the scene around him, noticing a huge TV screen showing a stocky, well-built man dripping with water, wearing only a red swimsuit - the same one that Allen had picked up in that changing room. As he scratched his itchy chin, the man mirrored his actions. The truth started to dawn on him as he realised that the microphone in front of the man’s mouth was the same that was in front of his own - the man... was him? He noticed that the microphone-man had stopped talking and looked at him expectedly. Unsure how to respond, he simply shrugged and muttered, “I-I don’t know,” which prompted the audience and microphone-man to laugh heartily. Hold on, he didn’t say what he meant to - he said it in the foreign language. The man started talking again, but Allen found himself being able to pick out a few words, he was talking about a fantastic dive or something along those line. However, he found his eyes drifting back to the screen, which panned up the legs of the man - his own legs, his thick, tree trunk-like legs stuffed to the brim with muscle.

While still engaging in small talk with the apparent presenter of a TV show, now in fluent Russian, Allen watched his crotch come into view on the screen, with his seemingly expanded cock bouncing from side to side in those tight red shorts. A low ‘woo’ sound emerged from the audience at this view, which caused the presenter to remark about his ‘package’ with a chuckle. Allen gestured towards his shorts, and laughed, “I guess this new outfit shows it off better,” in his new foreign tongue.

The camera then switched to a new angle of him from behind, which prompted an outright cheer from the audience, as Allen’s new firm, thick ass was shown on screen, barely contained by his shorts. An elderly woman on the panel cried, “Он красивый!” to raucous laughter from the rest of the panel and audience. Allen grinned, and the presenter exclaimed, “Looks like someone does his squats!”

Next, the screen started to pan up Allen’s chest - or was it Alexei? To be quite honest, he couldn’t really remember. Either way, he stared at his abs - although they weren’t particularly defined, it was clear to see that they were still muscular. His pecs were firm and perfectly smooth, moreso than he ever could have dreamed of previously. Now almost completely draining out the sound of the crowd, Alexei admired his veiny and hefty arms, clearly the result of many hours well-spent in the gym.

Finally, the camera focussed on Alexei’s face. The presenter paused expectedly, so, still dazed, he started rambling on about his workout routine, while he admired his handsome visage. His facial structure made him look masculine and mature, and his firm jaw was lightly coated in a light-brown beard. He thought to himself about how his smouldering eyes could seduce anyone with just a glance, which made him grin while he spoke. God, he was one fine specimen.

After a couple more minutes of rattling off ways of working out his quads, the presenter finally managed to wrestle the mic off of Alexei. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, there you have it. Alexei Petrov, the nation’s sweetheart. Judges, may we have your scores for Alexei’s dive?” Naturally, all five members of the panel lifted up a card reading simply ‘10′, to the pleasure of the audience, and the presenter announced, “Congratulations Alexei, you are tonight’s winner by the biggest margin in our show’s history!” to which he simply smiled and nodded, his mind already pre-occupied with dozens of ideas for what to do with this new body and life.

Chris was about three glasses of wine into the new Mamma Mia film, and having been focussing more on the beautiful landscape and perfect blue water of Greece than anything else, he impulsively booked flights to some Greek island he’d never heard of to get some sort of escape from his draining call centre job. A few months later, and Chris found himself strolling along the harbour of the most picturesque little town he’d ever visited, nestled in a cove lined with olive groves and packed with charming pastel-coloured houses. As he walked and enjoyed the cool sea breeze, his eyes were drawn to the fishing boats gently bobbing in the harbour. He noticed one in particular which was painted gaudily with the words ‘TURTLE TOURS’ and some writing in Greek on the side, which piqued his interest. After all, if he was coming all the way to Greece to see its waters, then why not experience them fully?

He made his way down the wooden pier towards the boat, with seemingly nobody on it. Thinking that it must be closed, Chris was about to give up until a well-built middle-aged man, very Mediterranean in appearance, stepped out of the cabin. He approached Chris, and held his hand out for a handshake which he returned excitedly. “Tour?” said the man, with a friendly grin on his face. Chris nodded in return, and stepped onto the boat. The man signalled towards the bathroom, which Chris took as him being told to get changed. Fortunately, he had his swimming trunks in his backpack, which he quickly changed into before walking back out of the cabin to find that they were already speeding away from the harbour.

After a few minutes moving along the coast, they slowed to a stop a few hundred metres from the bottom of a steep hillside. The man left the cabin to shout across the boat to Chris, “Turtles here, you jump.” Eager to see what the sea had to offer, he quickly placed a scuba mask on his face, and positioned himself at the back of the boat before plunging into the turquoise sea. A cold shock went through his body, causing him to shiver, but he quickly adjusted to the temperature, feeling more like a swimming pool after a few seconds. He opened his eyes, and had to stop himself from gasping at the sight of the rainbow of fish and coral in front of him. Moving further down, he even noticed a pair of loggerhead turtles swimming past him!

Chris was completely embroiled in his surroundings, and slowly swam around the seabed, getting into a good rhythm.

Arms to the side, then pushed forwards. To the side, then forwards. Side, forwards.

His strong, powerful arms, his tense biceps helped propel him through the water faster and faster- wait, what? He knew that his arms weren’t strong by any definition but for some reason it felt true to him. Distracting himself, he tried to think about the rhythm again.

Bending the knees, then kick legs. Bending, then kick. Bend, kick.

He felt that surge once again, as if his scrawny legs were packed with muscle, with bulging thighs and thick calves; but of course, that couldn’t be true. But then again, they felt so good, like he had a firm ass to go with them, as if his feet were twice their size.

Come to think of it, why did his trunks feel so tight? They felt thicker, and like they clung close to his skin. Like they were stretching down his legs and up his torso and arms, clinging to every crevice as they went. Like his body was totally covered by them. His cock even reacted to the sensation, and even seemed to feel like it was growing longer...? Of course not, that would be ridiculous. Although, it did feel thicker and warmer as it was pressed up against his skin...

Losing his focus slightly, Chris accidentally took a large gulp of seawater and started spluttering, desperately trying to reach the surface. He surfaced took a deep breath, rubbing his sun-coated face as he did. His smooth, defined, handsome face. What was he saying? He wasn’t some sort of narcissist.

His mind now filled with thoughts about what was happening, he decided to swim back to the boat. He swum powerfully, his wide, masculine shoulders and large, hard pecs pulling him ahead. Almost feeling like he was about to pass out, he pulled himself up the ladder, his hefty body dripping.

The man approached him with a towel with wide eyes, and gingerly handed it to him before ducking back into his cabin and starting the engines. Chris took a seat on the edge of the boat, heavily panting from the strange experience he’d just gone through, absentmindedly rubbing his chest and feeling something that wasn’t there before - a thick layer of neoprene, and below that, only muscle. He looked down, and he almost forget to breathe as he saw what he had become.

“W-Wow...” he mumbled, feeling up his body and quickly becoming erect from the feeling. He started to smirk and thought to himself, “This is going to be a good trip.”

Cody and Ryan had been going on holidays together in the Rockies ever since they were teenagers, and after almost ten years of being friends they’d finally managed to gather enough money together to watch their home country of the US perform at the Winter Olympics in Pyeongchang. However, when the pair got to South Korea, they’d quickly spent all of their ticket money on beer and prostitutes and so they were forced to simply watch the events on TV at local bars by their third day there.

On the evening of their fourth day, they were sitting at the bar watching the highlights from the day when Cody noticed that the quiet man sitting next to them was wearing a Team USA uniform. He tapped the well-built man on the shoulder to strike up a conversation. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to be on the American Olympic team, would you?”

The man laughed, and replied, “Yeah, I am actually. I do luge, my name’s Chris. You boys come here all the way from the states?” At the mention of the two of them, Ryan leaned forwards on the bar to enter the conversation, and replied, “Oh, of course. We’ve been wanting to come for a while and we finally got enough money together to actually do it recently.” “Ahah, we’ve ran out of money to actually watch the live events though,” Cody blurted out, “We’ve already spent it all.” Chris raised an eyebrow. “So you’re looking to see the events live? I can’t quite get you tickets, but I can definitely help you see the events up close if you want.” Cody almost shouted in response, “Sure! That sounds great!” Chris stood up from his seat, downing what was left of his beer, and gestured for the two men to follow him. Cody followed him eagerly, and Ryan cane close behind.

As the three of them walked through the snow, Chris leading, Ryan whispered to Cody, “Dude, what were you thinking! How do you know he’s not trying to mug us or something?” “Relax, he seems legit. Anyway, we’ve got nothing to lose.” Ryan sighed and picked up pace to keep up with the other two. “Alright, it’s this building over here on the right, the team HQ for these Olympics.” The trio walked over to the large building with an American flag hung in the window, and Chris quickly unlocked the door to let them in. “Alright, so it’s just through here…” he muttered, swinging open a large door to reveal a huge locker room. The cavernous room had lockers on each wall, benches in the middle, and a doorway leading to a gym and showers. “Alright guys, if you just wait here for a sec I’ll grab what you’ll need,” says Chris before rummaging through a couple of the lockers. Cody and Ryan exchange glances for a second, before Mike returns to them with two wrinkled pieces of material. He grins, handing Ryan the black one and Cody the blue one, and says, “If you wear these then you’ll be able to get front row seats easily, whenever you want.”

The two men unfolded the fabric, unleashing a pungent scent of sweat in their faces, causing them to cough loudly. “Dude, this smells like crap!” groaned Cody, holding it away from his face. Ryan grimaced, unfolding it to reveal a large black Under Armour-branded skinsuit, clearly well-used. Still cringing from the attack on his nostrils, Ryan tried to protest, “You can’t seriously expect us to wear these just to get out of paying for tickets, besides, this is way too big for me.” He looked to Cody for backup, but to his horror saw him deeply sniffing his red white and blue suit, and rubbing it on his face. Cody grinned stupidly, and blurted out, “We’ll take them!” “Excellent,” smiled Chris, “Now you just need to try them on to check the fit and you’ll be ready to sneak into the events.”

Ryan groaned and reluctantly stripped off his clothes, while Cody did so much more willingly. As Ryan took his time to pull the suit on, he watched Cody whip on his own as fast as he could, zipping up the front before Ryan had even got his on his legs. Despite the strange behaviour, he had to admit that Cody did look pretty hot in the uniform, with every detail of his lean, athletic body visible underneath the tight material. His friend walked over to him and - but pulled the suit’s arms over Ryan’s, making him blush as he zipped it up and forced him to stand up. Cody slapped his arm onto Ryan’s shoulder and took him to the large mirror on the wall. Ryan sighed at his reflection, the suit was way too baggy for his size, just like he predicted, and it still smelled like- actually, kinda nice. He pulled some of the fabric up to his nose to take deep breath, and felt himself growing erect. He looked in the mirror at Cody who was doing the same thing while rubbing his hand down his body- but he looked different somehow. His face looked strange, more masculine and square than before.

Ryan was drawn by Cody’s movements down to his crotch, when he noticed his swollen cock growing bigger and bigger as he stared. Cody chuckled stupidly, placing one hand onto his bulge and ran one hand through his hair, the one stroke styling it immaculately and turning it a pleasant shade of ginger. He groaned in a mixture of pleasure and pain as his already defined muscles strained against his tight attire as they grew. He rubbed his gloved hands around his chest, groaning as he pressed against his nipples and ran his hand down his popped-out abs. Ryan looked his friend up and down, admiring the new man he had become, though he looked somewhat familiar. He fit the skinsuit perfectly now, having filled it all out. Cody removed his hand from his cock, placing it on his hip, and turned to Ryan, who got a full view of his lingering erection.

Ryan watched Cody lick his lips and look him up and down, and backed away slightly, blushing. As he moved away from his advancing friend, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, causing him to stop and turn around. He gasped at his reflection, Cody definitely wasn’t the only one who changed. He looked about half a foot taller at least, and his hair had turned a dark shade of brown. He rubbed his chin to feel the light stubble he seemed to have gained when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his face, causing him to yell loudly. He watched closely in the mirror, tears forming in his eyes, as his jaw widened and became square with a loud crunch, and as his nose shifted around to become straight. He felt another crunch as his shoulders widened, making the fit of his suit feel more natural. He tried to rub his shoulders to relieve the pain, but his arms were forced back to his sides by the swelling of his biceps. He groaned as he watched them pulsating with muscle, thickening until they started to stress the sleeves of his sleek black skinsuit. As he flexed them in the mirror, his chest followed suit, his nonexistant pecs expanding out to become huge slabs of muscle, erect nipples poking out.

Ryan grinned and started squeezing his thighs as he felt his legs tighten, his hands pushed apart by the muscular pillows bloating out, along with his formerly slim butt. His calves and feet both grew to appropriately large sizes for his new form, but Ryan realised the last thing that needed to change and unzipped the front of his skinsuit in preparation.

He grasped his cock in his new thick hand and started to stroke it like always. He felt a orgasm-like shiver before his cock quickly became erect, but kept on growing beyond its usual length. As he pumped it faster and faster, it stretched up to become the longest penis that Ryan had ever even seen in person, at what he could only estimate to be at least eight inches long, and thicker than his meaty wrist. Generous amounts of precum dribbled down his shaft, providing lubrication for the main event. With heavy panting and moaning, Ryan finally let go and let himself be covered by the seemingly endless volleys of cum squirting out of his dick, along with several other items in the room.

Breathing heavily, Ryan finally took a good look at himself in the mirror. Huge, manly, and handsome, what the former Ryan could only imagine being. And now he was living his fantasy, along with the improved Cody by his side. Chris emerged from the gym, as sweaty as the other two men, and exclaimed with a smile, “Ah, you’ve both finished changing! Let’s get you some practice done before we sneak you into the events tomorrow, you’ll both have front row seats!”