Naamloos

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.

"I get it bro. You see those black muscle gods going to the gym and hulking out and you wish you could be one of them. The stench doesn't even bother you that much so you feel like you'd fit right in ! I get you and i'm here to help you realize your dream !"

You suddenly start feeling a soreness spread across you body and, as you look down, you realize that your muscles are growing. Slowly but surely, you can feel your body buff up into that of a true jock : thick meaty thighs, defined abs, prominent pecs, nice round shoulders and biceps. Your developing muscles nicely filled out your once baggy clothes.

Too busy admiring your bulking physique, you don't even realize that your light hair darkens quickly, first into a dirty blonde, then brown and eventually jet black. Your straight hair even starts curling up into a curly black hairstyle with a high fade.

Your changing ethnicity only becomes clear to you once your pale skin gradually tans into a darker tone, eventually leaving you with glorious brown skin. Even your facial features begin to shift into that of a man of unmistakable African descent; with a wide nose and thick lips. You're feel elated. This is exactly how you wanted to look.

You start caressing and fondling your sculpted body, admiring every inch of it. Your hand glides over your skin and you notice a slight dampness caused by a thin layer of sweat all over your body. You raise your arm to take a whiff inside your armpit and smell a faint musk emanating from it. This was the perfect body.

"Fuck yeah bro" you said, in a deep husky voice that surprised even yourself.

But the changes didn't stop there. Your skin darkened even more into a deep dark melanated tone fit for true nubian king. Your muscles continued to swell and bulk up, putting on pounds after pounds of thick meat. Each of your muscle groups differentiated into glorious bulging muscles. Your jock physique was gone, changing into that of an imposing professional bodybuilder.

But along with those physical changes, your body's physiology also rewired. You noticed right away that your new beefcake body produced a much stronger stench than earlier. You didn't even need to sniff your armpit to smell the pungent bo that was emanating from them, instantly hitting your senses and clouding your brain. That's when concern started to creep in.

This wasn't really what you wanted. What you wished for was to be buff and a bit of a slob, not a noxious stinking sweat machine. This was starting to be a bit too much, even for you. A sudden feeling of bloatedness grew inside your tight stomach. You tried to protest what was happening to you, but the only thing that escaped your mouth when you opened it was a loud putrid belch.

BUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRP

The room-shaking belch that just erupted from you kicked in the next phase of your transformation. A growing feeling of distress came over you as all of your glorious muscles bulged and ballooned. Your pecs got even heavier than they already were, thickening into a pair of juicy man boobs. You were now barely able to see past the bouncy meaty pectorals protruding from your chest.

All your other muscle groups followed suit, swelling up to absurd proportions and leaving you looking like a freakish tank. Your delts and biceps exploded in size, leaving your upper body looking like that of a disproportionate gorilla of a man. Your traps swole and bulged, making your neck look as thick as your head. Your butt expanded into a pair of jiggly globes. Your legs surged and became thick powerful tree trunks. Your once delicate feet enlarged into massive man feet that tore through your sneakers. Your tight clothes weren't spared either as your growing body shredded right through them.

You were swelling up like a beastly blow-up doll but, instead of filling up with air, your body filled with thick weighty beef. Your muscle's definition disappeared forever, merging together into thick slabs of meat. You now easily weighed over 300 pounds.

You were panting. The transformation was so intense that you were burning up, beads of sweat forming all over your skin. You breathed in and out, trying not to panic. How could i have done this to you ? This was never what you asked for. You never asked to become some caricature of a muscle-obsessed freak.

BUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRP

Your stomach grumbled loudly as another loud toxic belch erupted out of your mouth and, with it, one final change to your body. The belch seemed to go on forever and, with every second that passed, you felt your tight muscular abs distend and grow out into a prominent roid gut.

You refused to believe what you had become and you tried to suck your muscle gut in. But, no matter how hard you tried, it couldn't be hidden, exposing you as the roided out muscle beast that you were.

You tried to move but everything about your new body felt alien to you, incongruous. Your thick thighs rubbed and chaffed against each other. Your inflated pecs and bubble butt were visible through any piece of clothing you could possibly try. Your arm muscles were so blown up that you struggled to put on clothes or scratch your back. Your neck was so thick that you couldn't turn your head without turning your entire body. As you walked, you struggled to balance your immense bulk and your enormous feet made you move like a clumsy oaf.

Your new body was so big that any kind of physical effort made you exhausted. You burned so much energy that you needed to eat several hefty meals every day which made you feel bloated constantly. You were unable to go 5 minutes without letting out a room shaking masculine belch.

You were so sweaty that you looked like you had just gotten out of the shower at all time, not that you smelled like it. Your biochemistry was on perpetual overdrive, producing a constant stream of sweat that pooled at your feet wherever you went and engulfing you in a thick cloud of rank bo. No matter how many showers you took, you absolutely reeked at all time.

You tried to keep your former friends but they simply couldn't bear to spend any time with your new foul self. You tried to keep your job but your new condition made it impossible for your colleagues to work in your presence. You had nothing left, you were alone and distraught. This was too much ... too much muscle, too much bo .... You never wanted this...

The only place where you could possibly be accepted was the gym and, although normal people kept avoiding you there, you managed to make friends with other juiced up gymrats. Nobody wanted to be around you except them. Other reeking mindless gymrats were the only ones who could understand you now. You weren't a normal human anymore, you were a beast.

They didn't care about your constant sweat production or your inescapable aura of reeking bo or your nonstop belches. Your new bros accepted you as you were. They even encouraged you to not give a fuck, to go further and to just rip one out.

And so you gradually accepted your new place among them as a gym-brained roided out muscle bull. From now on, that was all you were good for.

“Are you sure this will work?” Randy nervously asked as he attached the diodes to Jeff’s chest.

The grad student nodded. “Of course,” he answered confidently. “I’ve done all the calculations and have downloaded all the necessary data. I can use it all to transform this…” He gestured downwards at this chubby body that was topped with a sizable gut that had a large set of moobs resting on it… “…to that.” He then pointed at the computer screen of the muscle hunk who was looking like a natural bodybuilder, except that his ass was slightly bigger than most guys’.

Randy bit down on his lower lip as he finished attaching his friend to the machine. “I guess if you’re sure,” he muttered. “I mean, you could just try the Disney way and find someone who’ll like you for you… or eat some carrots.”

Jeff rolled his eyes at the skinny nerdy guy. “Dude,” he huffed, “no chick wants to fuck the fat guy, and it’ll take me years to turn all this flub into muscles. This is the better way, trust me.”

“I guess…” Randy mumbled, sounding disbelieving as he walked over to the computer that had the picture of the stud on it. “Let me know when.”

Jeff took a deep breath and braced himself. “Do it!” he shouted, balling up his fists in anticipation.

Randy typed in a code and there was a loud hum that sounded out in the small room, lights flickering from the computer and traveling along the diodes over to the waiting chubby man.

Jeff tensed up as soon as the lights hit him. His fat deposits jiggled as he spasmed and he could feel his entire body vibrate as the machine did its work. He looked down at himself expectantly, smiling widely with excited shock as he noticed his gut starting to shudder and pull inwards.

“It’s working!” he beamed, noting the deeper quality to his voice.

All the while Randy stayed positioned behind the computer, keeping a cautious eye on his changing friend.

Jeff’s legs seemingly shrank in width, all of the fat pulling away and leaving behind the toned muscle that had been underneath it. His gut continued to disappear until his abs popped behind his skin that started to take on a tan quality. His moobs morphed into a set of chiseled pecs that no longer sagged, but instead jutted off his chest. Love handles melted away, and his double chin shrank to reveal a square jaw. Once all the fat had disappeared from Jeff’s frame, the changing man was pumped to see his muscles starting to take on size. His legs packed on hard meat, this thighs widening as he felt his ass starting to inflate outwards from his backside. He witnessed his biceps blowing up as his pecs followed suit. The muscled mounds on his chest began to jut out even more from his chest and rounded out to resemble something more akin to muscletits than pecs.

“Um, I’m n-not sure they’re still supposed to be growing like this!” Jeff began to panic as he witnessed his pecs continuing to inflate. His feet shuffled nervously and he winced as his bubblebutt jiggled behind him, and the new stud glanced over his shoulder to witness his ass comically rounding out to look like a pair of beach balls. He reached behind himself to grab at it, an electric shock rippling throughout his core, making him spasm and moan wildly.

Something was going wrong. Jeff’s pecs and ass were not supposed to wind up this big, nor were they supposed to be this sensitive. In his panic, he gripped at his bouncing muscletits and was horrified to feel the same sexual pleasure that emanated from his overly inflated features.

“T-turn it off!” he shouted at Randy, who frantically began to type away at the computer.

The humming stopped and Jeff ripped the diodes away from his curvy, himbo body. His heart fell as he caught sight of his reflection. All of his fat was gone, sure, however he looked utterly ridiculous. His massive muscles were overtaken by his hyperbolic pecs and giant bubblebutt that made him look like some fetish drawing. Worse was that he was rock hard, his much larger cock that was now about ten inches, jutting straight out in front of him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t enjoy it because no matter how much he grabbed it, it failed to produce anything close to the pleasurable tidal waves that his muscletits or bubblebutt did, rendering it virtually useless.

“Something went wrong!” Jeff cried, rushing over to the computer, cringing as he pecs and ass bounced with every hurried step he took. “I shouldn’t be looking like this! What happened to the guy in the photo?!”

Randy typed away and did a quick search before he paled, looking up at the new himbo before him. “Um,” he muttered, “we used the data from the actual model, not the picture.”

“And?”

“And apparently he’s a gay porn star who specializes in pec play and bottoming… and he’s had lots of work down to accentuate those features.”

Jeff felt his heart race wildly at the thought of being stuck in the body of some gay porn star. All he’d wanted to do was lose weight, he didn’t want to be some pec-loving gay guy! “What should we do!?” he worriedly cried, frustrated that even the air from the A/C brushing against his bare pecs was turning him on.

Randy slowly walked over and ran a thin hand over Jeff’s bulging pecs, making the other man shudder and his cock twitch with want. “If it’s any consolation,” he smiled, “I think you look really hot.”

“What are you doing?” Jeff panted, completely humiliated by the sensations he was feeling, but too turned on to do anything about it. He unconsciously thrusted his chest outwards to feel more of his friend’s hands. It took him a second to even register that he’d reached back and had began to fondle his own massive asscheeks, moaning loudly at the dual sensations. This wasn’t how things were supposed to turn out. All he’d wanted to do was lose weight and look like a total muscle hunk to get any girl he wanted. Instead he was some curvy muscleslut who begged for other men to fondle his muscletits or play with his bubblebutt. He was humiliated over what his life had become, but he couldn’t stop the loud moans that escaped his mouth.

So you used InstaJock, an app that is supposed to change you into a jock instantly, but the change wasn’t instant, and now your hair is gray and you have an urge to… breastfeed? I’ll admit, out of the many, many weird things that happen involving that app, this might be the weirdest. Just to be clear, I’m not kink shaming. Pecs are my favorite muscle group myself, and I’d be lying if I didn’t find the concept of ‘muscle tits’ hot as fuck. What shocks me is that the guy who's been messing around with InstaJock is getting so… daring! Most people in the TF community wouldn’t dream of messing around with InstaJock, since it and the guy who created it are so dangerous, but whoever has been using it to mess with people seems to be exclusively using it. My best guess is that either they’re someone who worked on the app and still has access to it, or that they specifically want to mess around with The Master, or… both. That doesn’t leave a lot of people. I looked into the programmers, but that lead went nowhere, so I’m moving onto people who are personal enemies of The Master. Hopefully I’ll have some concrete answers soon. But for now, let's get back to you. 

From what you’ve described, I’m pretty sure that you’re transforming into a very specific kink. I could probably find a better way to say this, but I’ll just call it what it is: you’re turning into a  muscle Daddy with milky mega muscle tits. If you think my word choice was a little crass and kinky, then I should remind you that everything about this is kinky. I mean, the main focus of my work is men being turned into dumb jocks, what were you expecting to see? But I'm getting off track again, and you probably want the specifics of what is happening to you. The physical transformation is, surprisingly, the most simple part of what's happening. You’re becoming a classic Muscle Daddy, with slightly thinning salt and pepper hair, a respectable amount of body hair, and thick manly muscles that will have bubble butted twinks drooling over you. The only big difference between you and a classic Muscle Daddy is, while, your pecs. Or I suppose I could call them your tits, since that's what they are. They’re bigger and beefier than any pecs have any right to be after all, and with how they keep leaking milk, tits is the best word for them. Normally you’d probably be embarrassed if someone called your pecs titties, but for some reason the word itself seems to make you shiver with pleasure. Which brings me to the more complicated part: your mental changes. You’ve already experienced the beginning of your mental changes, your strange urge to ‘feed the youth.’ I’m afraid to say that that urge you mentioned, that strong desire that is already digging its way into your every thoughts? It’s only going to get stronger and stronger. It’s going to worm itself into your mind and fill every thought, until it gets so overwhelming that it's all you can think about, and it will only fade once you’ve found some unsuspecting, kinky twink to drink your titty milk.

That brings me to the most complicated aspect of your transformation. It's contagious. Anyone who drinks your tit milk will slowly transform into a pec obsessed muscle daddy, just like you. The good news is that after you’ve transformed someone you’ll start thinking properly, at least for a little while. But it won’t be long before both you and your latest victim are on the prowl for another man to convert. In a few months your group will have grown exponentially. However, there is some good news. While you will eventually become overwhelmed by your desirees, there is a way to calm them, and put off transforming anyone as long as you can. By milking your pecs, you’ll be able to relieve some of the pressure. Just make sure you dispose of your milk properly. And don’t drink it if you can. That could have some… unexpected consequences.

😉 _________________________

Sweat Virus Series

Mostly Asian

____________________

The pandemic has been out for a long time, the government is now strictly governed by woman and men have been downgraded to a low social class. Now many are still successful, but most are claimed by the sweat virus or are socially seen as "weirdo's"

Most sweat victims attack at day but few of them act at night, when no one expects them. Lurking in the shadows but no matter what, are still visual due to there shiny body and huge pecs.

Scientists have done digging into the parasite and it runs in the sweat men produce, as soon as they breathe it in it takes effect. Either slow or fast, numb or sensational. No matter what, the brain is corrupted and the man's chest is enlarged. This is exactly what the virus does to a man. Some like it while some stay out of harm's way.

Now that we have that clear, we can start with . . .

Ryan . . .

Ryan is one of the many victims to the "night sweaters", we will let the story recorded and printed on "Ryans Phone" explain the events of 5/19/27 . . .

Mp3.My_First_Transformstion-0_2

Start ->

______________

Zack looked down at his massive jiggling pecs, when this first started Zack was thrilled. He was more energetic and had a better sex drive but his pecs kept getting bigger, an he had turned to his roommate Jason for help. Jason was a science major an he really knew how to help him out. He helped him get on the college wrestling team. "Just keep it secret man." Zack spoke in a hushed tone as Jason zipped his lips.

"You're secret is safe with me." Jason reassured him as he grabbed the milker. Who would have thought a tool made for expectant mothers would help out a swelling jock! Jason hooked up the machine to the massive tits as the full hum filled the room. Zack would never admit it to anyone, but Jason knew. Zack bit his lips as he stifled moans that filled his throat. Jason however would never admit he found the other one attractive...

"Have a lot this time." Jason observed as he filled up bottle after bottle. His eyes watching the massive pecs decrease ever do slightly as Zack's cock stood at attention. Jason paid no mind though as he collected the milky substance. "Alright you got practice an I've got to study."

"Oh yeah! Thanks again buddy...see ya!" Zack spoke as he grabbed his duffle bag as he shut the door to their dorm Jason looked at the bottle in his hand. He smirked wildly as he brought it close to his lips. "And I got a date with Jenny." He cheered to himself as he gulped down the warm substance. It was thicker than normal milk, it had a salty aftertaste to it as he chugged the entire mixture. He let out a hearty belch as he quickly took off his shirt. He looked at his reflection in the mirror as he flexed his feeble muscles. With each flex he could feel a growth spurt hit him, his muscles popped with each flex. "Its- working!" He moaned out as his voice dropped lower as his pants stretched out to their limit. "C'mon...just a lil more...put on a show for me baby." He grunted as he flexed his legs causing his pants to rip to shreds. "Oh fuuuuck yeah." He moaned as he flexed his pecs in the mirror.

He lifted his arms up hitting another pose as his cock strained against the flimsy fabric of his underwear. He slipped them off as he started to jerk his cock, a thick vein snaked it's way up his shaft. His balls were filled with cum, as he stroked himself viscously. "C'mon baby feel up your jock cock...you got it baby..." He moaned as he pinched his nipple shooting his load down the mirror. He knelt down as he scooped up the cum in his hands licking it up savoring the taste as he felt his abs popped more. He picked up the jock he kept hidden an inhaled the scent. "smells so fuckin good." He grunts slipping it on as he shook his impressive package as he got dressed. Unlike Zack, Jason regained his intelligence, he looked at his style and snapped a pick sliding his glasses up. He sent the picture to Jenny.

[Text:] Hey beautiful I'm on my way.

[Text:] Can't wait, see you tonight stud 🥰😘

Jason was apart of the tutor program at his college. Usually the leaders of the organization tell you a bit about who you were tutoring and, this was when he conceived his plan. He needed a test subject, and we'll his roommate was always...well complaining and he decided that a change up was in order. Now the side affects of his new muscled buddy producing a body altering milk? That wasn't in the cards, but for Jason it provided what he needed to impress Jenny. He grabbed his bag filled with the usual textbook and condom combo and went on his way. Knocking three times on her door Jenny pulled him in by the collar.

Studying was the last thing these two were doing, lips crashed against each other as Jason took his large meaty hands gripping up her plump ass as he grinded against her. With little studying done Jason had taught we her new was of pleasure instead. In the midst of their fucking Jason asked quickly.

"You on the pill?" To which Jenny moaned out an out of breath yes. He pulled out ripping the condom off with a snap as he moved infront of her as he then bred her tight cunt. This was not without reason, he wanted to see if his sperm was as potent as Zack's. He stayed upright as he watched and waited for something to happen if anything. To distract her Jason connected their lips in a post coital moment as he glanced down to her stomach, there was only minimal changes, less body fat...that's it. He pulled out with a sharp moan as he laid with Jenny for a moment.

He returned to his dorm, not expecting Zack to be back yet. They both had their vastly different schedule so Zack had remained ignorant to Jason's use of his Milk. Jason quickly stripped down to his jock once again, his eyes falling down to his impressive muscles that would be gone soon. His rands ran along his sensitive nipples humming a little as he did. He was for a moment lost in thought as he heard the shower stop, and a devious smirk came to his chiseled face.

"Jason?" Zack asked, his voice was filled with confusion as he turned his head back. 'Yeah it's me." He mused turning around pulling Zack closer into a harsh kiss. "Gotta tell ya buddy, your milk makes me pretty fucking horny....an I am craving it from the source." He whispered pulling on Zack's sensitive nipples causing the wrestler to squirm as Jason slowly dipped lower to hover over one nipple. His mouth gently licking around it as he sucked on it. The other hand squeezed on it with a firm grip as he took in more milk. His mouth was full of the savory liquid as some even dribbled down his neck. He pulled off with a satisfactory sigh as he locked eyes with Zack as he pulled down the other's towel. His mouth quickly going over his dick virtually attacking it so that the slobber would be the best lube. Zack himself was in a daze from the milking as his hands just held Jason's head still as he thrusted deeper into his friends throat. He pulled off with a gasp as he pushed Zack onto the bed, he hovered over the slicked up cock an forced his ass over it grunting as he did through the pain. He started to ride on his roommate's cock making his muscles bounce with each pounce. "Cum in me damn it." He urged through gritted teeth as his ass was pounding away at Zack's cock. Zack was a hot sweaty mess as he just gripped onto Jason's building forearms as he let out a harsh moan as he came, with an inhumane amount. Jason was in shock his body felt like it was on fire from the inside out as his insides were filled with Zack's potent cum. His gut ballooned out before suctioning back in with an even deeper cut of muscle than he had before. This caused the man to shiver an moan as he felt his pecs pop even harder as he could feel his cock twitch as he shot his load all over Zack's sweaty torso. Jason wondered in his sweat and cum covered state, if this would make the change permanent....but as of right now he felt fine staying still with Zack's cock filling his tight hole.

"Hey Jason?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we keep this secret too?"

The locker room was empty except for the rhythmic *drip-drip* of a leaky shower head, the sound swallowed by the hum of the ventilation system. Peter stood in front of the fogged mirror, his broad shoulders still glistening with sweat from the workout, his breath steady but shallow. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the tiled walls, the scent of chlorine and industrial cleaner clinging to the air. His gym bag lay open on the bench, a discarded towel draped over the edge, but he wasn’t reaching for it. Not yet.

His fingers traced the damp, defined curves of his pecs—no, not just pecs. They were fuller than they should’ve been, heavy in a way that made his back ache if he went too long without support. The muscle was still there, the hard-earned definition from years of lifting, but beneath it, something softer had taken root. His thumbs found his nipples, already stiff, the dark buds elongated, much thicker than the eraser end of a pencil. He pinched one between his knuckles, a sharp inhale hissing through his teeth as the sensation lanced straight to his groin. His cock, still soft, twitched against his thigh, but it wasn’t the focus. It never was anymore.

“Fuck,” he whispered, rolling the nipple between his fingers, watching in the mirror as his chest flushed pink, the flesh around the bud puckering. His other hand slid down his stomach, fingers curling around his pathetic limp length.  It was much too soft and small to stroke like guys normally did.  Peter didn’t mind, he had long ago learned to sneeze and rub his… he no longer thought of it is a cock or penis.  It was what he rubbed while using his nipples.   Peter knew it would be a lie to say he didn’t often think of his former cock.  It’s hard to remember how guys drooled of his once big, thick cock.   

He’d been called him hung, being told his cock was 8-9 inches, and quite thick.  It was a sense of power and authority,  it gave him confidence of knowing that while he may not have the biggest dick, he had nothing to be shy about.    Now he looked down and saw how small it was.  His once large low hangers were also casualties of him seeking to develop his tits.   He had not been hard in several months.  Peter knew that no longer having regular erections had caused his cock to shrink.  It was difficult to see if this was true as he could not get hard, and even the few times he had, it would only last a minute or two.  

His cock was clearly smaller now, previously he hung thick and had an impressive bulge.  Erect he was now 4-5 inches, on his large frame it looked tiny.  He no longer wore underwear with any pouch.  It wasn’t the lack of a bulge that embarrassed him as much as having an empty pouch.   The front of his jeans now felt as though they had an empty pouch.  Whether true or not, he felt anyone who looked at his crotch would see the fabric hanging loose end empty…a negative bulge.  This is why Peter now wore woman’s underwear.

Peter had most often gone commando back when he considered himself a masculine male.  His confidence meant he had never thought about how his crotch looked.   He knew guys looked and liked what they saw.  This now often embarrassed him when they saw his crotch.  It was the feeling like he had let down men everywhere for having given away his masculinity.  He had betrayed his brothers by becoming a sister.   Yet, it aroused him knowing that no man would ever feel threatened  or insecure about having the smaller cock.  And, some men would be even more aroused to see how he now had large breasts with the barest hint of anything in the bikini snug against his crotch.   

Peter also liked how the shape of women’s underwear felt as he moved, the high waist fit his more feminine shaped ass, hips and thighs.  Peter always had long shapely legs….not the sexy thighs of a male soccer player, but the long curved thighs below what had become more and more the heart shaped butt of female fitness instructor.  He Peter how his ass looked in the mirror and now dressed to accentuate and lure men in.  

The mirror showed him everything—the way his pecs jiggled with each tug, the way his nipples darkened as they swelled further, the damp sheen of precum already beading at his slit despite his lack of full hardness. He bit his lip, his free hand moving to his other nipple, pinching harder this time, a whimper escaping him. “Yeah, just like that…”

His voice was rough, but there was a breathiness to it, a neediness that didn’t belong to the Peter his friends knew—the guy who bench-pressed his weight, who cracked jokes over beers, who never once let slip how much he *ached* for this. His thumbs worked his nipples in slow, deliberate circles, his cock finally stirring in his grip, thickening just enough to give him something to stroke. But it wasn’t the main event. It never was.

“I love having big tits,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky growl as he squeezed his chest, making the muscle flex, the weight of them more obvious. His nipples throbbed, the pleasure almost painful, his cock now enlarged somewhat and leaking steadily. “Fuck, I want them *bigger*.” His fingers dug into the flesh beneath his pecs, imagining the way they’d spill over his hands if they grew, the way they’d bounce when he moved, the way they’d *ache* with milk. The thought made his breath hitch, his fingers rubbing his limp cock faltering as his hips jerked forward involuntarily. “I want my tits at least twice as big. Fuck, I’d let anyone see them. Anyone *touch* them—”

While playing he fondled and grope his right breast, Peter rubbed himself through the wetness of his panties.   Yet another feminine problem he had now… his panties were often uncomfortable wet whenever he became aroused.  Because of this, Peter knew he would have to change into pair of clean panties he now always carried with him.   Often he changed into fresh panties from being wet and smelling of sex, he had also needed to replace panties ripped off in frenzied matings and kept  as trophies by some alphas.  Peter was lost in waves of pleasure that washed over his body.  His orgasm was building.  He fingered pre-cum from the large pool his limp cock oozed onto his engorged sensitive nipples.

A sound.

Peter froze.

Not the shower. Not the vent. A *footstep*. His heart hammered against his ribs, his nipples tingling violently, his cock suddenly fully hard in his grip. He didn’t turn. Couldn’t. The mirror showed him everything—the flush crawling up his neck, the way his chest heaved, the dampness on his thighs where precome had dripped. And then, in the reflection, a figure.

Rob.

Rob was an Alpha male known for his conquests.  While Rob only gave a knowing smile to other males when asked.  The women however spoke of how much passion they had experienced.  They spoke of how Rob had used them.  Rob never failed to fuck them and deliver orgasm after orgasm.  Rob had fucked they hard, yet the women often said they were the aggressive with pure lust for Rob making they beg for Rob to breed them.  This is how Rob recognized he was under the influence of Powerful pheromones, yet surprised him  as they were coming from Peter.

Rob, his best friend. Rob, who was straight. Rob, who was *married*. Rob, who had walked in without a sound and was now standing just inside the locker room door, his gym bag slung over one shoulder, his eyes locked onto Peter’s chest.

Peter’s breath hitched. He should’ve stopped. Should’ve covered himself. Should’ve *done* something. But his fingers betrayed him, twisting his nipples harder, his cock throbbing in his grip as he stroked himself slower, deliberate, his hips rolling in tiny, needy circles. “F-Fuck,” he gasped, his voice cracking.

Rob didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His gaze was *burning*, tracing the lines of Peter’s body—the broad shoulders, the thick arms, the muscles that had always made him the strongest guy in their friend group. But then his eyes dropped. To the way Peter’s pecs *swelled*, the dark, elongated nipples standing out obscenely against the pale skin. The way they *jiggled* when Peter pinched them, the way his back arched, his ass clenching as he fucked his own fist.

Peter’s mouth fell open, a broken sound escaping him as his orgasm crashed closer. He couldn’t stop. Didn’t *want* to. “I—I want them bigger,” he panted, his voice raw. “I don’t care if anyone sees. I *want* them to grow.  I want the tits of a female porn star.”  As the words left his mouth and they echoed off the walls of the shower, his eyes went wide. “Fuck, Rob, I—”

Rob’s bag hit the floor with a thud.

Peter’s entire body jerked, his cock leaking heavily, his nipples so sensitive it was almost unbearable. He watched in the mirror as Rob took a step forward, then another, his jaw tight, his eyes dark. Peter’s breath came in short, sharp gasps, his fingers still working his nipples, his cock aching. “P-Please,” he whimpered, his voice breaking. “Fuck, Rob, *please*—”

Rob’s hand went to his belt.

The sound of the leather sliding through the loops was obscenely loud in the quiet locker room. Peter’s knees nearly gave out, his cock twitching violently, his nipples throbbing in time with his pulse. He turned—finally, *finally*—his back pressing against the cold mirror, his chest heaving. Rob’s cock was already out, thick and veiny, the head dark with blood, the scent of him musky and *male* in a way that made Peter’s mouth water.

“You’re a fucking *slut*,” Rob growled, his voice rough, his fingers wrapping around the base of his cock, giving it a slow stroke. “Aren’t you?”

Peter’s breath hitched, his nipples aching, his cock dripping. “Y-Yes,” he gasped. “Fuck, *yes*, I am. I’m your slut. I’m *anyone’s* slut. Please, Rob, *fuck me*—”

Rob didn’t hesitate.

One hand grabbed Peter’s wrist, yanking it away from his cock, the other slamming against his chest, shoving him hard. Peter stumbled, his ass hitting the bench, his chest heaving as Rob loomed over him, his cock jutting out, already leaking. “On your hands and knees,” Rob ordered, his voice a dark rumble. “Now.”

stumbled, his ass hitting the bench, his chest heaving as Rob loomed over him, his cock jutting out, already leaking. “On your hands and knees,” Rob ordered, his voice a dark rumble. “Now.”

Peter obeyed instantly, his body moving before his brain could catch up. The cold tile bit into his knees as he turned, his ass in the air, his chest pressing against the bench, his huge nipples dragging against the damp surface. He could feel Rob’s gaze on him, *burning* into him, and when Rob’s hand landed on his ass, squeezing hard, Peter moaned, his cock dripping onto the floor beneath him.

“Fuck, look at you,” Rob muttered, his fingers digging into Peter’s flesh. “Big tits, pretty little hole… you *want* this, don’t you?”

Peter nodded frantically, his face flushed, his nipples *throbbing*. “Yes,” he gasped. “Fuck, *yes*, I want it. I *need* it. Please, Rob, *breed me*—”

Rob didn’t make him wait.

The first thrust was brutal, his cock slamming into Peter’s untouched hole with a wet, *filthy* sound. Peter cried out, his fingers clawing at the bench, his back arching as Rob bottomed out, stretching him open, filling him completely. The burn was intense, but the pleasure was *worse*—deeper, darker, his nipples aching, his cock leaking, his entire body *alive* in a way it never was before.

“Fuck, you’re *tight*,” Rob groaned, his hips snapping forward, his cock pistoning in and out of Peter’s hole. “But you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna take *all* of it.”

Peter could only whimper in response, his body rocking with each thrust, his tits swinging beneath him, the weight of them making his arms tremble. Rob’s hands found his hips, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he fucked him deeper, harder, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing off the tiles.

“You like that, slut?” Rob growled, his voice rough, his cock swelling inside Peter. “You like being *used*?”

Becoming Milky Muscle

Niku breathes deeply, eyes half lidded as his sight almost swirls. The ropes dig into Niku's thick bulky body, suspending his bared body in the corner of the collection room. His thoughts were so murky, there was no way to tell how many hours have passed. Or was it days?

A deep whining escapes Niku's lips as a wave of pleasure pulses briefly through him. His heaving pecs quiver. Drops of white leak from his nipples, streaming down the bulging flesh in thin white streams. A man in white enters the room, holding a clipboard.

"It's time for your extraction."