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Simon Says — Frat Bro

Who doesn’t love a game of Simon Says? Even the hot dads at the backyard bbq are playing 😛

Simon Says — Rich Finance Bro

Another take on the Simon Says tf. This time he’s transformed into a rich, yuppie finance bro.

Simon Says — Surfer Bro

Our hot dads’ transformative game of Simon Says continues. Shoutout @king-craftsman for the surfer bro idea.

People bully u, Ur forgotten because u basic. So u decided to listen to this new podcast from an alpha chav givin advice

Most people digging through the back shelves of a nearly abandoned barber supply store would have looked for something sealed, unexpired, and safe. Owen did the opposite. He crouched in the dusty corner until he found the old brown bottle with the plain cream label: HAIR TONIC. No flashy promises, no modern branding. Just a faded list of directions, a date long expired, and one warning printed near the bottom: Store in a cool, dry place.

He smiled when he read that. That was exactly why he wanted it. Owen had read stories about men using expired tonic. He knew it could cause male-pattern baldness and grey your hair - but he was hoping to push it to the limit.

Owen had spent too long pretending he only admired older men from a distance or, preferably, from underneath them during one-night stands; taking in the smell of their sweaty hairy bodies as they plowed his tight twink college frat boy hole. The rugged ones - the men in their forties with thicker necks, weathered smiles, graying beards, and heavy hair curling out of open collars drove him insane. Men who looked settled into themselves. Men who didn’t seem boyish or polished, but solid. Masculine. Hairy. He wanted that look with a private, aching intensity he’d never said out loud but burned to his core. He was willing to give up everything to pursue that ideal image.

So when Owen found an expired bottle of Hair Tonic, he didn’t just buy it - he took it home, set it on the windowsill of his apartment, and left it there for three full days, baking in the hot afternoon sun until the liquid inside turned darker, thicker and slightly cloudy.

On the fourth night, he uncapped it in his bathroom. The tonic smelled sharp and old-fashioned, herbal and medicinal with something almost metallic underneath. Owen rubbed the first splash into his scalp, especially at the temples and crown, then worked more over his cheeks, jaw, and upper lip. He hesitated only a second before pouring some into his palm again and dragging it down the center of his chest, across his stomach, over his shoulders, and along his arms, legs and back. He thought for a brief second before deciding to apply the tonic to his pubes, cock and balls as well. “In for a penny in for a pound” he thought to himself as his dick chubbed at the thought of the daddy he might become - if all went to plan.

His skin tingled instantly. By the time he rinsed his hands, the tingling had deepened into heat - a steady, invasive warmth that seemed to seep down into the roots of every soft, nearly invisible hair on his body.

It was a couple of hours before he saw the first changes, while preparing for bed. The faint scruff on his face thickened visibly as he watched, turning from a dusty shadow into real growth: coarse, dense, dark at first, then already streaked with silver around the chin and along the sides. He touched his cheeks with a longing fascination as he felt the beard pushing out fast, filling in until it framed his jaw in a broad salt-and-pepper shape. His mustache thickened too, heavier and darker through the middle, silvering at the edges. He reached a hand to his face to admire the beginning of his journey to real manhood.

Before long his attention shifted to the top of his head. His scalp tightened. He watched, wide-eyed, as his hairline began to creep back from his forehead. Not dramatically all at once, but decisively - his temples drawing back, the hair above them shortening and refining itself into something more mature, touched with gray. He looked older within minutes. Not sick older - not ruined. Just undeniably more grown, more masculine, the youth draining out of his face and leaving behind stronger lines, faint crow’s feet, a rougher, handsomer structure.

Then his body hair began to grow in. It spread in rippling waves. Soft brown fuzz across his chest thickened and darkened, then turned coarse and dense, covering him in a heavy pelt that matched the collection of photos he had in his liked images folder on his TUMBLR page. Hair crowded across his pecs first, curling thickly and high, then met in the center and poured downward in a dark trail over his sternum and stomach. More kept coming—across his ribs, around his navel, down his abdomen, along his shoulders and upper arms. He gasped in delight as he watched the color shift: mostly dark brown, but feathered through with gray, less silver than his beard yet unmistakably mature. His forearms grew shaggy. Fine hair climbed the backs of his hands. He stared, breathing hard, as his body took on that older, masculine density he’d always wanted— thick, textured, unapologetically leaping towards middle age.

Owen reached a newly hairy hand down to his dick. It too had started to change. Hi pubic hair was increasing in density and coarseness at the base, with a couple flecks of grey in the mix. His nut sack was now coated in thick dark hair. He gave his cock a little tug, noticing it felt less sensitive, more mature, than his 23 years of actual age should suggest.

Owen was so overwhelmed by the start of his transformation into a daddy that he couldn’t hold back. He grabbed his dick and began to masturbate while watching his beard hair continue to lengthen, new lines form on his face and hair continue to spread across his chest, arms, and up on his shoulders.

His pace quickened as his breathing grew deeper. Images of what he would look like by morning flooding his mind. Thoughts about the man he would become and how he’d use his new body to dominate younger, smaller, less masculine men - men like he used to be. As he approached climax, imagining his conquests to come, he began to talk to himself in his new gruffer voice: "You like daddy's cock, don't you boy?! Daddy worked real hard for this body for you, so be a good son and take it deep inside your twink hole." Just as he finished the thought he felt his entire body tingle and tense up at the moment of orgasm - shooting cum all over the bathroom vanity. After glowing in the afterlight of his virtual conquest for a few minutes, he cleaned up the mess, gave himself one last once over, and turned in for the night - drifting to sleep with his entire body lightly tingling as the Hair Tonic continued to reconfigure him.

By morning, the transformation had settled completely. Owen woke heavier through the chest and shoulders, his features subtly matured into the kind of handsome that didn’t belong to a man in his twenties anymore. In the bathroom mirror, the young fresh-faced guy he’d been was gone. Looking back at him was a man in his forties - a true daddy: shorter, receded hair brushed neatly back; gray at the temples; a full salt-and-pepper beard shaping his face; stronger smile lines; a calmer, steadier gaze.

His torso was lavish with hair — dense over the chest, tapering down the stomach, thick at the shoulders and arms, exactly as he’d imagined but somehow better because it was his. The beard had gone grayer than the rest, giving his face the distinguished look he’d secretly craved, while the body hair stayed darker, richer, and more virile.

He stood there for a long time, palm spread over the new weight of hair on his chest, thumb brushing through the beard at his jaw.

The bottle sat on the sink in front of him, half-empty, its faded label curling at the edges. HAIR TONIC. Innocent words for something that had known exactly what to do with him. Owen smiled at his reflection - not embarrassed, not startled now, but quietly thrilled. He hadn’t ruined himself. He hadn’t made a mistake. He had made himself into the man he’d been longing to become - the perfect daddy.

As he updated his dating profile apps the messages started pouring in. Owen had worked hard and gambled big - and now it was daddy’s time to play with all of the young eager twinks in the greater Atlanta area.

The Church Wants You - Part 2

Chris stood alone in the apartment, staring down at the tie in his hands.

The white shirt fit him surprisingly well. Clean. Crisp. The black slacks felt strange after months of sweatpants and old jeans. But the tie…

That still felt like crossing some invisible line.

The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing a bit of his chest. He kept turning the tie over in his fingers while sitting at the coffee table. The Book of Mormon lay open beside him. His apartment already looked different now — cleaner floors, folded blankets, trash bags gone.

But not fully different.

Not fully them.

His eyes stayed fixed on the tie.

He tried imagining it around his neck.

Tight.

Ordered.

Proper.

His breathing slowed slightly at the thought.

Then the doorbell rang.

Chris looked up immediately, pulse quickening before he even realized why.

When he opened the door, the two missionaries were standing there smiling warmly, sunlight glowing behind them.

“Well,” the blond one said with visible satisfaction, “you look better already.”

Chris glanced down self-consciously at the shirt.

“I… uh… tried it on.”

“We can tell,” the dark-haired missionary said gently.

Chris noticed both of them immediately looking at the tie still hanging from his hand.

“You haven’t put it on yet,” the blond missionary observed softly.

Chris swallowed. “Didn’t really know how.”

The blond missionary smiled. “We can help with that.”

—

A few minutes later Chris was seated again in the chair by the coffee table.

The strange machine sat there once more, humming softly.

This time he didn’t resist when they placed the headset over his temples.

Didn’t joke.

Didn’t question it.

He just leaned back obediently while the low electrical hum filled the room again.

“There you go,” the dark-haired missionary murmured.

Chris exhaled slowly.

The room blurred pleasantly around the edges.

The blond missionary stood behind him while the other adjusted the machine’s dials.

Tiny lights pulsed.

“Feels good to improve yourself.”

“Feels good to become disciplined.”

“Feels good to look worthy.”

Chris smiled faintly.

The blond missionary gently reached forward and undid the remaining open buttons on Chris’s shirt completely. Chris barely reacted, eyes heavy and unfocused.

Then carefully, slowly, he folded the collar upright.

The dark-haired missionary picked up the tie from Chris’s lap.

“You don’t need this anymore,” he said softly. “We’ll do it for you.”

Chris nodded lazily.

The tie draped around his neck.

The fabric slid across his skin cool and smooth.

One missionary held the narrow end steady while the other crossed the wide blade over it with practiced motions. Their fingers moved calmly, efficiently — looping, folding, tightening.

“All the way up,” the blond missionary whispered near Chris’s ear. “Feels proper all the way up.”

Chris swallowed automatically as the collar button was fastened against his throat.

Then the knot tightened.

Slowly.

Firmly.

Drawing upward until it rested perfectly beneath his chin.

Chris inhaled sharply at the snug pressure around his neck.

Not painful.

Secure.

Contained.

His lips parted slightly.

“There,” the dark-haired missionary said approvingly.

The blond one smoothed the front of the tie flat against Chris’s chest, then adjusted the collar carefully with both hands until every edge sat perfectly symmetrical.

“Much better.”

Chris looked down vaguely at himself.

Something deep inside him relaxed.

Like the outfit was finally complete.

The machine hummed louder.

“You feel cleaner.”

“You feel more focused.”

“You feel proud to represent something greater.”

Chris smiled dreamily.

“Yes,” he murmured.

—

Afterward they took him outside for a walk.

Chris moved between them down the sidewalk carrying a Book of Mormon under one arm. The tie rested neatly against his chest, shirt fully buttoned despite the warm afternoon air.

He felt strangely light.

People smiled at them as they passed.

And for the first time in months, Chris felt… respectable.

Then the blond missionary pointed ahead casually.

“We have one more stop.”

Chris looked up.

A barbershop.

He hesitated slightly. “Oh… I don’t know…”

The dark-haired missionary rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It’ll help you feel even better.”

The hesitation melted almost instantly.

Inside, the old barber welcomed them with amused familiarity, like he’d seen this exact scene before.

Chris sat reluctantly in the chair while the black cape wrapped around him.

“You sure about this?” he asked weakly.

Both missionaries smiled at him through the mirror.

“You’ll love it.”

At first Chris watched nervously as chunks of messy dark hair fell into his lap.

But slowly the shape changed.

Cleaner sides.

Neater top.

Trimmed around the ears.

Order replacing chaos strand by strand.

When the barber finally handed him the mirror, Chris blinked in surprise.

He looked…

Different.

Sharper.

Younger somehow.

Like somebody with direction.

The missionaries looked genuinely pleased.

“There he is,” the blond one said softly.

Chris couldn’t stop staring at himself.

And somewhere beneath the lingering hypnosis, a dangerous little spark of pride flickered awake.

—

Back at the apartment, the transformation continued.

The missionaries moved efficiently through the rooms while Chris followed almost automatically behind them.

Old stained band T-shirts disappeared into black garbage bags.

Ripped hoodies.

Wrinkled jeans.

Beer-branded shirts.

Anything sloppy.

Anything careless.

Anything that looked like the old Chris.

“At some point,” the dark-haired missionary said calmly while folding another white shirt into the closet, “you have to decide who you want to be.”

Chris stood silently nearby, fingers brushing the knot of his tie absentmindedly.

The blond missionary held up one of Chris’s old faded shirts with visible disapproval before dropping it into a donation box.

“You don’t need these anymore.”

Chris watched the box fill up.

And strangely…

Happy Pride Month!

Social media man, I hate it, kinda try and keep a low profile even tho I do have it but I rlly don't do a lot with it and only people I follow are usually mates.

Its been a few weeks and a mate of mine I followed on TikTok has been quiet af, and its sooo not like him, last time I got a message from him was when he went to this party near his and then he just like vanished and he's a good mate, bit of a dickhead at times like always a bit of a narcissist but, Matty's always been a laugh to be with.

Same day later on I was looking for his tag on TikTok see if he'd posted but genuinely couldn't find it. What I did find tho and idek where the fuck it came from was this chirpy teenager, like when did I follow this account lol I checked out his profile, yourbroluis, mostly just reviews on tacky gold clothes and trainers and a lotta football content like this dude is such a fanboy, always in the latest kit and clothes and always gold, his last vid 'Yoo my bros so we gonna be doing a giveaway, got some sickk drip for you guys, all yous gotta do is click the link and ur entered' Fuck this haha, I went to click off it, shiiit I pressed the link, ahh well nvm nobody ever wins these things anyways.

I fell asleep on the sofa and managed to stay asleep until like 11:30 when my phone went off 'Yo Lex where are you man, we still down for today?' shit, I slept in like an idiot, I texted back 'Yhyh still down meet you in 10' I also had another message on my TikTok, ugh what now... The message read 'Congrats brooo you won my giveaway! Thanks for entering hermano the delivery be with you today, Luis :)'

Fuck sake, it gonna be something I aint into I know it but I sent back anyway 'Thanks dude :)'.

When I got back later there was a parcel on the doorstep, not mega heavy when I picked it up but not lightweight, part of me wondered what it was, other part was like why tf did it have to be me?

I opened it once I was inside, yep as I expected...

Gold Nike hoodie, basically the last thing I would wear given the choice. It came with a lil note "Thanks for supporting my channel bro, here's a lil something to upgrade ur wardrobe :)" was my size aswell, nahhh tho I'll take my biker jacket every day of the week, maybe I find one of my mates who likes it.

It was late evening since my housemate wasn't back and I'd already ordered and had food I decided to step in the shower for a bit, was so hot in the bathroom when I got out it was freezing in the apartment and dark and I was only wearing my boxers so I ended up fumbling around for my ripped band jumper in the kitchen. After bumping into a couple of chairs I eventually grabbed it and slid if over my head.

After I sat on the sofa and flicked on the light I noticed, shit, I'd put on that fucking gold Nike hoodie I'd left out!

Wtf was I doing wearing this man? Fuck I felt dizzy aswell, I had to lie back on the sofa for a min, kinda like I was sinking into a black hole, like I was passing out...

I woke up in darkness looking round I saw myself stood in a gold spotlight, where tf was I and what was this? In front of me in the light were some clothes. This was creepy af like I was watching myself.

I saw myself walk toward the light. Same as that hoodie that arrived, with matching track pants and Nike tns, what in the actual fuck? I reached out and touched the hoodie. The darkness began to light up, golden light flooding the room.

A voice gently echoes in my head 'Put it on brooooo' who tf was that? 'Who's there?!' the voice echoed again 'Bro u wanna wear the kit don't u?' the voice had a Hispanic accent, was kinda chirpy sounded young 'I aint wearing that dude wtf' I said but my image did different, was like I was watching myself be hypnotised by this thing 'Don't do it man' I took off my clothes, butt naked, I then reached to the table and pulled out a pair of shiny gold Nike boxers and slid them on, he then put on the rest of the clothes until he was fully dressed, gold tracksuit, nikes and underwear 'fuckk me no, this is actually so wrong' This facsimile of me walked forwards, eyes blank, into a golden light he stood there bathing in the glow for a minute and closed his eyes.

The light began to get brighter as this version of me began to change, his skin darkened, he became shorter slightly, the hair started to shorten and darken as it twisted into braids, my ears shrank to gold studs rather than my stretchers and the tattoos on my skin were washed out by the new brown colour, the changes continued until he began to resemble a mixed, teenage guy about age 18 maybe, my mind was racing and thoughts were all over the place, I'd just watched myself, my punk alt 27 year old self transform into a teenage mixed dude, braided hair, gold tracksuit, I looked like some teenage football fanboy!

The light began to gently fade slightly as he began to move, his eyes opened, gone was the green now replaced by a dark rich brown he turned and looked at me directly, I found myself back in my body looking at this new version of me, he approached, a swagger in his walk, he then spoke in a voice that wasn't mine 'Yoo broo aint this better?' he said looking at the outfit, I shook my head 'Fuck no change me back!' he grinned a airhead like expression 'Cant do that bro, this the new you, got a pretty sweet upgrade yea?' I started to recoil but I felt my body being pulled towards him 'Noooo! Let me go!' he just grinned at me hands in pockets 'C'mon bro join me you aint gonna regret it' I was being forced towards him, I struggled but I kept being tugged, he then outstretched his arms as I got close.

As we touched my whole body began to heat up, a warmth spread over my skin as I felt the gold glow intensify, my body and his began to merge, we were becoming one, I screamed as my body dissipated into his.

I opened my eyes, except something was off, I was frantic I felt weird tho like I was in my body but not? I then spoke, but it wasn't me 'Broo don't this feel good?' It sounded like the guy from my nightmare. He got up and looked in the mirror, I saw myself, except I wasn't, I was the guy from the dream, same braided hair, same gold tracksuit. I felt my thoughts, they were different though, I saw football, gold sportswear, TikTok and the bros.

It was like I was a passenger in my own body as I felt like my whole personality was being compressed 'Just relax my bro, we one now' I screamed.

I saw my phone and he picked it up but it looked different, gold cover, I had loads of notifications, he opened a message from someone called Luis "Yo Jacari bro you gonna be down for livestream tomorrow, teams playing n I wanna catch it hermano" My, or rather not, hands texted back "Calm my broo gonna be there 💛" I then snapped a picture and sent it to Luis.

My personality felt like it was a memory, like I was slowly melting into the new me, Jacari, I was beginning to lose myself as I continued screaming at every moment Lex began to feel like a distant memory.

After a nights sleep I was all but gone, or more remade into my new self, punk Lex was gone, lil bro Jacari was born. Next morning I texted Luis "Getting ready now broo meet at usual place 💛" me n Luis gonna get some sickk content today bros, our team is playing and gotta be there support the bros, Luis's brother gonna be up today aswell so we get free entry, followers on TikTok gonna be fireeee.

Wasn't gonna do a sequel to last one but my bro @dylangold20 managed to convince me ;)

“Black girls have the biggest tits, bro” Jamie leaned on the bathroom doorframe talking to his roommate.

“You’re always saying racist garbage like that, Jamie” His roommate took offence. “Black girls don’t have the biggest tits. You’ll see that soon enough”

“Yeah right” he scoffed and slammed the door on his roommates face.

Jamie was your average straight bro. Racist, misogynistic, homophobic. He had had it all. He had a face scultpted by the gods, a lean muscular hairless body and gorgeous blonde hair. He was able to seduce almost any woman with his looks. He often bragged to his bros about how many women he banged each night. But all of that was about to change. Jamie’s roommate had been dosing Jamie’s shampoo. Dosing it with something that will help Jamie gain... a little perspective.

On the first day, Jamie didn’t notice any changes. He washed his luscious hair with the dosed shampoo. But what he didn’t realise was, the shampoo caused his hair to get a little darker. A little thicker. Nothing to drastic. But it was enough for his roommate to notice. His roommate couldn’t help but smirk as he saw Jamie’s hair getting thicker and more curled in its appearance. Jamie was oblivious.

After the first week, Jamie’s muscles had grown. Grown to the point where he looked like some kind of body builder. Jamie was freaked out by his new stature. He had always had the lean type of muscle. But now he was bulking up. Bulking up to the point where his muscles rivalled his bros who had spent years body building. Jamie tried not to question this sudden muscle growth. It was just from the hours he spent playing football... right?

The second week is when things got weird. His muscles continued to grow. But only his pecs. His pecs kept inflating more and more each day. They got so big and soft. Jamie slowly became more and more embarrassed about his new chest. By the end of the week, it didn’t even look like muscle. His two pecs looked like two big fat tits. They jiggled hypnotically with each movement. Each step caused them to bounce. No matter what shirt he wore, it just extenuated his new shape. His nipples poked out of each shirt he wore. It was humiliating.

“Looks like you need milkin” Jamie’s roommate laughed.

“Shut up or I’ll break you” Jamie yelled intimidatingly.

Then came week three. The final week of changes. Jamie’s roommate patiently waited outside the bathroom door listening for the final transformation. Jamie got in the shower, obliviously poured the magic shampoo into his hands and ran it through his now thick black hair. The shampoo washed off his hair and trickled down his body. But as each water droplet rolled down his new big body, it took something from Jamie. The shampoo washed away Jamie’s pale complexion. His white skin slowly fading. Fading into a deep, beautiful dark skin tone. His lips became fuller. His hair finishing their transition, becoming authentic black hair. His pecs swelling into a nice pair of juicy black tits.

Jamie sat on the side of the bath, his new black tits weighing him down.

“Damn, brother” he moaned. His new tits so sensitive. Each small movement eliciting a moan from his new thick black lips.

“My tits are extra sensitive today” Jamie smiled as he let out a big orgasmic moan.

Jamie’s roommate sat outside the bathroom door, peeking through the crack. He ran his hand up and down his dick, busting a big load while staring at Jamie’s new perky tits.

__________________________________________

Jamie, or Jayden as he now goes by, was working out as his roommate stared at him. His roommate was rock hard looking at Jayden’s big tits bounce up and down. Each bounce eliciting a soft moan from Jaydens lips. The roommate was leaking at the sight of it.

“So Jayden... do you still think black chicks have the biggest tits?”

“Nah brotha. Black boys have the biggest titties” he smirked pressing his tits together, accidentally hitting off his sensitive nipple. Jayden took a deep breath in and let out a big high-pitched orgasmic moan.

Jayden’s roommate smiled deviously at his new beautiful dark skinned roommate femininely moan and vibrate on his seat. Damn, this really was the life.

Carlisle Moreau was the definition of perfection.

He had himself convinced that if he was to flip open a dictionary at any given opportunity, he would find his picture smiling back at him. Smooth skin, clever eyes, a wickedly sly grin creeping up the side of his face. He was a brilliant young man, richer than his father and his grandfather combined.

He liked to look at himself like he was a product, the result of years of endless studying and careful grooming. Everything about Carlisle was calculated, and carefully planned, and he lived his life following a strict schedule. A light jog in the mornings, a healthy five star breakfast, a long day of work.

Not that the work was ever difficult, not from within his luxurious office, but it was still work. He would always set aside time to go to the gym in the afternoon before booking a reservation at whatever restaurant was trending that day, where he would order a salad that cost way more than it was actually worth.

He was paying for the experience, he liked to tell himself. Just like he paid for his experience at the most prestigious gym in the city. So maybe that was why he was so easily annoyed by one of the other patrons. Frank the Tank/Pussy Smasher, as he liked to call himself, or Ass-Blaster/The Human Gym Sock, as others called him behind his back, was Carlisle's polar opposite.

His name was Frank Lombardi, and how he had even earned an invitation to the gym was a mystery to Carlisle. Let alone how he could afford it, seeing as no matter when the young businessman tried to schedule his evening workout, Frank was somehow always there. Always pumping iron, bloated way past the possibility of looking like a normal person, always grunting and listening to loud rock music.

He threw slurs around like they were free candy, fondling his dick and his balls like manners didn’t apply to him, trying to pick up chicks at any given opportunity. His eyes always looked a little too cloudy, his mouth a little slack, like he was just a few strokes away from losing his load. He just needed to explode.

And he did, often. Much to Carlisle’s disgust. He was called Ass-Blaster by the other gym patrons for a reason, gassing out all the guys throughout the day with his booming protein farts. It was easy to ignore his rancid armpit stink in the gym air, but not the toxic fumes wafting from Frank’s meaty ass. Carlisle was among the few souls who couldn’t handle the latest blast of the day, excusing himself to the locker room and still clutching his nose tight.

He had made so many complaints, offered so many bribes, but nothing got done. He never really stopped to consider who Frank was, or why he was there, he just focused on the fact that he was so far beneath him, beneath everyone in that gym, a walking barrel of beef jerky that had spoiled long ago. Maybe if Carlisle had done a little research, he would know that Frank was the son of the gym owner. Also rich, also a pedigree, just not so fucking uptight about it.

His dad bought him a gym so he could make gains all day, whereas Carlisle’s helped him put down a down payment for a private jet. They were just two different types of guys, and that should have been okay, but Carlisle couldn’t accept it. The spicy scent was still lingering up his nose, only just fading, when the locker room door swung open and Frank stomped inside.

He was such a douche. Piss burnt yellow hair from a bad bleach job, diamond studs, a backwards cap, the aftermath of his fart and sweat still hanging thick around him. Carlisle took a step back as the giant approached, and Frank laughed at the sight of the squeamish businessman. He didn’t ask for permission before throwing his arm around Carlisle, squeezing so tight that other guy couldn’t escape the embrace, laughing even louder like they were best bros just sharing the love.

“Dude, why do you always run from me? We could be buds.” Carlisle couldn’t choke back his scoff, breaking free from Frank’s grasp at the first opportunity. Literally nothing sounded more unappealing than being friends with this gorilla. He didn’t even deem the young man worthy of a response. This hurt the meathead’s feelings a bit, though his dumb grin never really left his face.

He just pulled off his shorts and scratched at his massive dong through his jockstrap, grunting as he did so, louder and louder. “Fuck, bro You ever get jock itch like fuckin’ crazy?” Carlisle didn’t mean to glance over, but he nearly gagged when he did. The white fabric was anything but, long since stained yellow from abuse, torn at the edges and straining against the hardening cock. The smells in the room just got that much worse.

“You are absolutely repugnant. How do you even live with yourself? How can you be okay with this? Learn some manners.” Carlisle couldn’t understand how one person was so carefree, to the point of being a human garbage disposal. He was gross, and rude, and so stupid. Nothing like Carlisle. And what made it worse was that Frank had the means to be somebody, but he chose this. He chose being a muscle pig.

Carlisle was trying to excuse himself when Frank replied, voice still dumb and chipper despite the loneliness in his words. “Bro, I just wish I had a guy to chill with. Someone that actually fuckin’ gets me. You know how hard it is being around you uptight fuckers all day?” He threw his arms out in frustration, flaring his large chest. “Y’all need to take the sticks out of your asses and let one rip!”

The more polished of the two could only roll his eyes, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder and tilting his head to the side. “Wow, Frank. That’s sweet. I really wish I wanted to follow in your footsteps sniffing up your farts all day. Sounds like a great life.” He shoved past the giant as he tried to exit the room, but his bony shoulder hardly did any damage.

It almost felt like it had done more to him. A few steps later before reaching the door and he nearly fell to his knees, pressing a hand to his slim stomach and wincing as a gurgling sound moved through him. “Oh, gosh.” That was all he could think to say, straightening himself back up. He didn’t like to curse, he believed that it was a sign of low intelligence. He could feel gas building up in him, out of nowhere, so he tried to excuse himself quickly.

He didn’t even notice his stomach was bloating until he tried to open the door and hit himself right in the gut, causing a burp to rocket past his lips. The stench of his breath was meaty, and rancid, like he had eaten five steaks already. It didn’t make sense, why his fumes were like someone else’s, or why suddenly he had a small gut resting above his narrow hips.

“Oh, my goodness. What’s happening?” He could hear Frank chuckling, and despite himself, he backed away from the door and closer to the big oaf. He couldn’t risk leaving like this, he didn’t want anyone to see him. Not when he still felt like he was inflating, like he needed to let loose in the worst way. Frank could clearly see the struggle, watching the prissy guy scrunch up his face and rub his stomach anxiously.

“Dude. You clearly need to take a shit.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing, and it was. But not to Carlisle, not to a young man that never passed wind in front of strangers, who followed manners at all time. Frank lifted a leg in response to this, squeezing out a squelching fart like it was the easiest thing. “See, man? That’s all there is to it. Better do somethin’ before you pop.”

Carlisle wanted to turn on his heels and accept the judgmental glares right then and there, but when he tried to move it felt like his body was betraying him. He was just standing there, staring at Carlisle, until he started to mimic the giant’s movements. “What? No,” he whimpered, confused, unable to stop as he lifted a leg and let rip a booming fart. It kept coming out of him, a deep bass with a spicy protein stench, still rocketing out of his ass when he started to belch, too.

The whole time he expelled the gas, his body started to change. The small bloat started to lessen, giving way to a solid muscle gut made for holding rank farts, and a light dusting of facial hair formed around his lips. His eyes were full of fear, and shame, but Frank look delighted. “DAMN. I didn’t know you had that shit in you. That’s power, bro.” There was something eager, and almost hopeful about him. Like this was really what he was wishing for. Maybe he had finally found someone just as gross as he was.

But Carlisle didn’t want to be like this, and he was confused why all of this was happening in the first place. He tried to talk, but the aftertaste of his belch just made him want to retch. He started coughing before it turned into dumb laughter, the same sound Frank had made, hands falling to his now shredded abs and then to his stretching shoulders. He felt himself grow, and change, his ideal physique becoming that of a gym rat’s.

He looked like he could have been Frank’s younger brother, a muscle pig in the making with his thick muscles and douche style. That was when Carlisle finally got control of his body again, shaking his head and glancing down at himself. His feet were huge, his legs long and thick, he looked like he had just finished a good pump. He walked to the nearest mirror, nearly tripping over himself. He was stunned by what he saw. “That’s not me. I don’t want this.”

Where had these clothes come from? Why was there hair and tattoos suddenly all over him? He started to panic, but he couldn’t control his face. It just kept smirking, his control waning once more. When Frank plodded over, wrapping his arm around his bro’s shoulder, Carlisle could see the resemblance in all its glory. He looked like part of the Lombardi family, well on his way to being just like his bigger, grosser brother. He had to fart again. And burp.

So he did.

Frank just laughed, not even waving the scent off. “Dude, that’s a 10 out of 10. You’re more rank than me.” Carlisle couldn’t believe what was happening, he didn’t understand it, suddenly there was a stranger in the room and he was trapped in his body. Out of nowhere there was another meathead with horrible hygiene, just like Frank, and he was stuck inside without any control.

“Bro, there’s no fucking way. No one could ever live up to your stank.” He sounded so dumb, and so crass, and he hadn’t even moved his lips willingly. He was so scared, banging at the walls of his brain as he felt himself leaning forward, nudging his nose against Frank’s closed armpit. The bigger guy just laughed, looking around to check that the locker room was still empty.

“What, piggy? You hungry for this?” He lifted his arm, and Carlisle wanted to scream. He tried to pull away, he tried to run, but all his body could do was dive into the sweet musky forest. His tongue lapped at the matted hair, drinking in the divine sweat, all the while Carlisle could taste everything inside his own mind, gagging and crying and begging it all to stop. Not that Carl wanted to, he was grunting and moaning and grinding his hips against Frank’s leg the whole time.

“I love that my best bro is such a gross fag.” And he really did, Frank was more than happy to keep Carl satisfied. The new jock never really asked for much, but he had a thing for smelly guys, and Frank was the smelliest. Frank was a pussy hound, through and through, but if Carl wanted to choke on his fat cock then who was he to stop his best bud’s enjoyment? A mouth was a mouth. He was just grateful to have such an awesome friend.

“Dude, let’s go to Taco Bell. If you’re that horny I need to load up.” Carlisle didn’t understand what that was referring to, but Carl replied with an excited moan and a dumb chuckle. He scratched at his bull nuts, pulling away from Frank and not bothering to wipe the sweat and stray hairs away from his face.

“Oh, fuck yes. Suffocate me with your smelly ass, bro.” Then he understood, and he was terrified once more, but he soon learned that he would never regain control. He wasn’t Carlisle anymore, Carlisle had never existed, there was only Carl. And Carl was gross, and beefy, and Frank’s perfect little lackey. They did everything together, no matter how disgusting, how degrading. Both of them had gotten their wishes granted.

Carl was such a good bro now. The perfect spotter at the gym, the only guy who could dig into ten burritos without stopping, also the only guy who didn’t care about the hours of gas afterwards. He was so gross, and so dumb, and so chill. That was what Frank wanted. He wanted a dude who was just like him, and he got it. He got his mini me, his best pal, someone who wouldn’t run away when he made a complete ass of himself.

And Frank was everything Carl wanted. A bigger guy to follow around, to do all of the thinking for him. Huge and gassy and always willing to help him with his gross desires. He was so excited for tonight, he couldn’t wait for his bro to let one rip right in his face, over and over, he’d clean that hole until it shined. Anything for his best friend.

Poor Carlisle had a solo ticket to the most exclusive, disgusting muscle pig cam show on earth. He’d be around Frank for the rest of his life, breathing in his essence, laughing at his dumb jokes, helping him pick up chicks with the stupidest pick up lines, never again attending a meeting or following a strict schedule beyond the daily farts. He should have just kept his mouth closed.

John Andrew was, to say the very least, a bit uptight. It was the first thing anyone could tell about the young collegiate scholar. But when you insisted on going by both your first and your middle name, it became pretty obvious that there was a stick lodged up your ass.

But he was rich, and brilliant, so he saw those things as a free pass to being an unpleasant person. He had every right to hold himself above everyone he met, because to John Andrew, that was exactly the truth. He was superior. Top of his class, always wearing designer clothes, a great family name at his disposal.

If not every single student in his university, there was at least one particular individual that he knew he was several heads and shoulders above. Travis James, or as he insisted to be called, “TJ” was a waste of an already worthless athletic scholarship. John Andrew wasn’t positive the guy had even passed elementary school, let alone qualifying for the same prestigious college as he did. At least the meathead could throw a ball around, right?

John Andrew could forgive the fact that TJ was dumber than a bag of bricks if not for two reasons. One being, there were too many other flaws to give just one of them a free pass, and two, John Andrew was trapped in a shared dorm with the disgusting idiot. The star athlete and the star academic, in one space, even his parents couldn’t argue the reason behind it.

But they weren’t the ones forced to swim through TJ’s sweaty gym clothes abandoned on the floor, they didn’t have to listen to him moan out some bimbo’s name as his bed frame knocked against the wall, they didn’t have to cover their noses and wretch whenever he let out a booming fart. The guy didn’t even realize how repulsive he was. He’d just smile, and burp, stretching out his arms and letting his pit stench waft into the air. “Dude, I need to take a shit.”

John Andrew could care less if TJ tried to be friendly, if he tried to invite the outcast nerd to all the coolest parties in an attempt to bring him out of his shell. One of them actually had a future to seek out, the other could afford to throw all of his ambitions away. So John Andrew kept telling himself to wait it out, that sooner than later he’d be free. He’d be on the top, where he belonged, and TJ would end up working construction on one of his many buildings later in life.

Then the prank happened. Or, at least, the prank that broke the straw on the camel’s back. John Andrew was trying to sleep before his big exam that next morning, already tucked away long before midnight. When TJ stumbled back into their dorm, drunk and gassy, he walked into John Andrew’s room while looking for the restroom. “Fuck,” was all he could say as he rubbed at his bloated stomach, looking down at his roommate’s exposed face sleeping soundly. He couldn’t resist it. It was a classic prank, he and his best bros had gotten lots of great laughs out of it over the years.

TJ stomped over and swung his big meaty body in position, almost graceful in his movements. Like he knew exactly what he was doing. And when he let a squelching fart rip right in John Andrew’s face, it was the scream heard all around the campus. The nerd was frantic, and furious, and gagging, and all TJ could do was let out another one. “Bro, I need to take the biggest dump. You want me to take a pic so you can see?”

No, he didn’t. He didn’t want to see TJ ever again. When he stormed out of their dorm that night, it was nearly a week later before he returned. He had aced his exam, but the memory of the rotten egg-like stench and the humiliation still wore on him, and it took him time to gather his thoughts. Now he had a plan, tucked away in the bags under his arms and the incantation scrawled across the piece of paper in his back pocket. If TJ wouldn’t fix himself, then John Andrew would.

It had taken many online searches and a few calls to close family friends, but he had learned an occult ritual to bend a person into the image of another. His traits and goals could be imprinted on TJ’s caveman brain. He didn’t think the jock was quite worthy of being his second coming, but people always said that two was better than one. What was the harm in two self-obsessed nerds with superiority complexes? Maybe then John Andrew would finally have someone he could hold a conversation with.

Setting up the ritual was easier than he expected, just a few chalk lines and one of TJ’s many abandoned gym socks at the center of the circle, candles burning all around the room. All he had left to do was add his essence to the air, transferring his energy into the thing that represented his roommate. Just a simple exhale, and he would have someone worthy of calling a companion. He was excited, voice rising higher as he went ahead with the incantation.

And then the door swung open, and TJ stumbled in drunk. “Bro! You’re finally home, fuck.” He was clutching his beer gut again, like he always was, smiling like an idiot. “I missed my best dude!” Then he noticed the candles, scrunching his face together and chuckling. “Bro, I missed Halloween? Fuck, we should get wasted.” He stomped forward, chuckling as his big feet tore through the chalk lines. John Andrew was sputtering, trying to stand up before tripping over himself and landing in the center of the circle. The slip of paper slid over to where TJ was standing.

All at once, everything went wrong, and so suddenly. His nose was hovering right over TJ’s sweaty sock, and the jock himself was looming over John Andrew in the circle. The big oaf bent down to pick up the paper, making his trademark “I don’t get it” face once again. He tried to repeat the words on the paper, getting eerily close to how they were meant to be pronounced. John Andrew couldn’t move, at first because he was stunned, but then because an electric charge was moving through him.

When TJ was finished, nothing changed, and John Andrew let out a breath of relief. He looked down at the sock, exhaling a bigger breath. Wasn’t that what the spell asked for? Wasn’t he still in control? Then TJ’s massive legs were on either side of his head, and he was in a headlock, the sock being crammed into his mouth. He gagged on the salty, sour flavor. TJ just kept laughing, letting a fart slip out. And then another one, because why not.

“My prank is better than your witch shit, bro!” But this wasn’t meant to be a prank, and now it was ruined, and... Was John Andrew higher off the ground? He found it more difficult to turn himself over than it should have been, spitting the sock out of his mouth and rotating his body to look at a developing shelf of pecs. The stench of TJ’s fart was still heavy in the air, thick with his essence, and John Andrew was still lying in the center of the circle. Covered in the stench, sweat dripping from his lips.

He tried to get up quickly, but tripped over his stretching feet. “Fuck. No.” He never swore, but this situation called for it. His hips flared out, thighs straining against his pant legs. It was like the air from the fart was inflating him, like he kept getting taller and thicker with every inhale. “Help,” was all he could whine, but the only person to hear him was TJ. The big jock strolled over with a light chuckle, throwing his sweaty bicep around his roommate’s widening neck.

“Man, you been working out? Sick gains.” John glanced down, and he couldn’t help but agree with TJ. He tried to tell himself it was more the fact that what was happening to him was sick, and twisted, but then he flexed a bicep without meaning to. It swelled in front of him, and he was smiling, for just a moment. Then he pulled away from his roommate, trying to run away, but all of the bulk and girth made his legs like jello. It didn’t matter that they were shredded, or that he was an absolute unit of a man.

When his cock started to swell in his gym shorts, which he didn’t remember ever putting on, he fell to one knee. He couldn’t stop himself from shoving a big meaty hand into his jockstrap pouch, fishing out the python now growing in his hands. “Oh, fuck. I’m so fucking horny, bro.” His eyes were so full of fear, he couldn’t believe the words that had just left his lips, but TJ was thrilled. It was nice having someone who understood him. The jock was starting to forget that this was a nerd who always tried to avoid him, that he enjoyed pissing off because he was such a prissy little fucker, and was remembering that they really were best bros. And now his best bro was jacking off right in front of him.

“Ha, dude. You should have went to the party. This one chick had the biggest rack of tits.” John, or Andrew, or whatever the fuck his name was could only grunt, laughing for no reason because that was what TJ did. And TJ fucking loved girls with huge racks, so JA - AJ? - did, too. Yeah, TJ and AJ, best bros since the first time they met and had a farting contest in front of the college scouts. It was kind of hard to tell them apart. They played the same position in football, on opposite sides of the field. They went to the same parties, wore the same clothes, lived in the same filth and flunked all the same classes. They even banged the same chick, once or twice. At the same time.

John Andrew and all of his superiority welled up like cum in AJ’s nut sack, every trace of him had disappeared from the room. All of his clothes, all of his books, even the signs that the ritual had even occurred in the first place. The stench grew heavier as if two jocks had been living here all along. All AJ could do was laugh, busting his nut in his shorts and wiping off the globs of cum on the outside of his shorts. There was hair all over him now, tattoos on his chest, a cap on his head. He was so fucking hot. All it took was a selfie to make the girls cream themselves.

“Dude, I’m an absolute tank. You wish you had guns like these.” TJ just chuckled, punching his best bro in the arm and walking into the kitchen to fix a late night meal. White chicken and rice, pure protein, now AJ’s favorite snack, too. He kept scratching his balls as he followed his bud, licking his lips as the food was being prepared. It wasn’t until TJ set his plate aside that AJ leaned over, trying not to chuckle and ruin the joke. “Dude, do you want some special sauce for that?”

TJ just blinked, like an idiot, because they were both idiots. “What special sauce, dude?” Then AJ turned on his heels, bending over and pressing his big ass right over his roommate’s plate on the table. He let a protein fart rip right into the air, right over the food, and TJ couldn’t even be mad about it. He plugged his nose and guffawed. “Dude, you are fucking rank!” And he was. AJ was a pig, and a stud, and he loved it. He was so lucky to have TJ as his friend and roommate.

He was lucky to be just like someone who was so fucking awesome. Thick, dumb, and gross as fuck. Because he had a right to be. Maybe he still had a superiority complex, huh?

David has been a real pain since he turned 18. The kid refuses to get a job, skips school, and spends his time playing video games on the couch. The only effort he puts into anything is girls, and even that he quickly loses interest in.

I love my little brother, but I expect more from him than that. When our parents stepped out of the picture, I was the big brother who stepped up. I dropped out of highschool and got a full time gig at a garage. It was grueling work, but I always put in overtime to make sure David could finish school and play basketball.

Now my lazy brother rarely does either of those things.

"David, did you really just sit on the couch all day," my voice rises as I get home from a long day, "You had chores to do around here."

"I'll get to them tomorrow," he mumbles, staring at the screen.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I stomp over to the TV and turn it off.

"What the hell, bro!" he snaps, "Turn it on."

"No TV until you mow the goddamn lawn!" I roar.

"Lay off me, dad." he scoffs sarcastically, "You used to be fun, bro."

"Oh, am I not fun anymore? Sorry, I don't enjoy putting in 7 days of work a week so you can bum around all day!"

"Whatever, bro," he resigns. I can already tell I'm not going to win. He's already staring at his phone, and there's no way in hell David is picking himself off of this couch tonight.

"I didn't want to resort to this," I explain, "But I don't have a choice, do I? You're going to take on more responsibility from now on, and your going to like it," I say firmly.

"Shut up, bro," he rolls his eyes at me.

"No, you shut it! I'm tired of paying for our house, our food, our lives while you refuse to appreciate any of it! It's my turn to be lazy!"

"Your nuts, bro," David groans, but he shifts in his seat, suddenly growing uncomfortable in his own skin.

"Maybe I am, but you can feel it happening, right?"

"What's happening, bro?" my little brother laughs, but his smile lines deepen as the skin on his face becomes more tired and loose.

The kid's shoulders broaden beneath his t-shirt and his legs lengthen as he fidgets awkwardly on the couch. Then his skin roughens before it looks like it's almost inflating. A small layer of pudge fills out his cheeks and then his neck. His entire torso thickens as his metabolism weakens. David's previously flat stomach grows into a paunchy belly that his now heavy pecs can finally rest on.

"What's happening?" David cries, but his voice cracks and the second word is said several octaves lower than normal.

"It's your turn to play dad," is all I say.

"What?" the deep voice in his throat whimpers, as a thick patch of wiry hair bud around his jaw and neck.

"And I'm tired of our lack of finances" I add, ignoring the desperate look on my brother's rapidly aging face, "You work at the bank. Don't you, dad?"

"I'm not dad!" he says firmly, but between his deeply commanding voice and matured body, it was hard to see him as anything else.

His t-shirt eventually transforms into a collared button up as a wide tie rolls down from his thick neck. A heavy brown belt appears beneath his gut, tightly tucking his slacks into his soft body.

David holds a hand to his creased forehead and groans, "Bro, what's going on?"

"Bro?" I laugh emphatically, "Why are you calling me bro, dad?"

David pauses and then let's out an amused chuckle, "I don't know, son. It was a long day at the bank."

"You're such a weirdo, old man," I add, taking on the bratty tone David had previously been using with me.

My new dad let's out an exaggerated groan as he pulls himself off the couch, "Why are you dressed like a grease monkey, son? You finally get a job?"

I glance down at the worn blue clothes that make up my mechanic uniform. I won't be needing these anymore.

"Nah, dad," I laugh, "I thrifted these. They're vintage."

David let's out a chuckle, "You kids are something else. I'll start on dinner. Chicken sound good for tonight?"

"Whatever," I answer heading for the gaming console in David's old room, "I'm gonna play some videogames. Just let me know when the food's ready."

"Sure thing, pal," my new dad feighns a smile as he steps into the kitchen.

I spent the rest of the night relaxing in David's old room while my father cooked dinner before going straight to bed. He had to be up early to shower and shave before heading to the bank.

“Delete TikTok, son. It’s a waste of time”

“Dad, you don’t understand!”

“I said delete it!”

“Maybe if you had millions of followers like me, you’d understand”

“Well keep on dreamin, son. That’s never gonna happen”

———————————————————————

Richard was disappointed that his son had developed an addiction to this new app called ‘TikTok’. It was a waste of time. He spent his entire day shirtless doing stupid dances in front of his phone. Richard had to put a stop to it. Encourage him to do something more productive. Who cares that he had millions of followers, right?

“Dad, I want you to understand why I love TikTok”

Richard’s son balanced his phone against the wall. The phone camera staring directly at the father and son.

“No, son. I don’t want to be in your stupid Tikto-“ Before Richard could finish his sentence, music began to blast from his son’s phone.

Richard’s son started dancing in front of the camera. Showing off the latest TikTok moves he had been practicing for hours. The music caused a warm sensation to flow through Richard’s body. The 41 year old’s body felt as if it was on fire.

“Son, I need to sit dow-“

“DANCE DAD”

Richard’s body began to move against his will. His hips gyrating. His tongue sticking out as he winked at the camera. His arms meticulously moving as if he had been practicing the TikTok dance for hours. The 41 year old dad looked so out of place. But he couldn’t stop. It just felt so good to dance sexily in front of the camera.

“THAT’S IT, DAD. I CAN TELL YOU’RE LOVING IT”

Richard’s face began to get younger. His entire body regressing. His age decreased from 41 to 35. His skin becoming smoother and less blemished. His wrinkles becoming less pronounced. His laugh lines fading. His age slipped down further and further the more he danced. The more he humped the air, the more he regressed. Age 35 to 33 to 29 to 24 until eventually he slipped down to a young fuckable 20 year old.

The 20 year old’s hair began shifting to match his younger appearance. It became long and shaggy on top. Showing no signs of receding. The 20 year old ran his hands through his curled hair and gave a wink to the camera. Richard was screaming on the inside. Why was his body changing? Why did he look like he was in his teens? He almost looked as young as... his son.

Richard gained back control of his body... his new 20 year old body. He tried to run away from the music. He ran out the front door but the music was still perfectly audible. The music kept changing the 20 year old. As Richard tried to run away, his body grew. Richard stumbled down the street as his biceps grew. They grew until they were the size of a quarterback’s. Richard’s chest began inflating. His flat pectorals inflated like balloons. Becoming fat and juicy. His nipples becoming more sensitive. His new pecs now bounced with each step. Richard’s beer belly flattened. His flat stomach was then replaced by clearly defined abs. His ass grew more and more. Becoming round and fuckable. It jiggled with each and every step. As he ran away, his juicy tits jiggled and bounced as his fat ass swayed from side to side. It was humiliating.

No matter how far he ran away from his house, the music still played. He could hear every lyric. Every beat. His mind knew every dance move. His body just wanted to dance. To just rip off his shirt, stick out his tongue and hump the air. But he had to resist.

The music began infecting his mind. With each beat in the song, Richard’s IQ dropped. His IQ went from 130, to 100, to 90. Richard thought his IQ was safe at 90. But the beat began to get more intense. It began to build up more and more until eventually... the beat dropped. As the beat dropped, Richard’s IQ was drained out of his head. The beat drop in the song caused his IQ to plummet to a generous 40. Richard stopped running. He stopped panicking. He just stood blankly in the street. The music still blaring.

“Me so fuckin dumb” the jock chuckled. He sounded so dumb. So vacant. He couldn’t think about anything other than the music.

Richard... or was it Noah... Richard is too smart a name for a dumb jock like him. Noah began to follow the music. It was so inviting. So enticing. He followed it all the way back home. Noah entered the front door to see his son still dancing in front of the camera.

“Dance with me... BIG BROTHER”

Noah jumped in front of the camera, joining his little bro. It felt so good to be showing off his sexy body. Noah couldn’t help but feel so horny as he danced suggestively with his brother. Noah lifted up his t-shirt showing off his new fuckable body. Noah knew what he was doing. He was giving his 8 million fans exactly what they wanted.

“Damn” Noah dumbly chuckled as he danced with his little brother.

“I love TikTok”

The cafe had seen a lot of better days, times when, the boss admitted, that it was a great place for college jocks to hang out and chill, but throughout the years it became “sophisticated”, a place where boring people came, ordered their drinks and left, leaving the cafe a place for dwelling hipsters, like Andrew and Rob here. The two of them sat down, Andrew barefoot not minding as he was complaining to Rob about the useless “jocks” on campus, needless to say things needed to change. Rob and Andrew were once again sat on a casual day, most of the people by now were leaving which was odd for the afternoon, and they swore they saw the appearance of more jocks in the cafe then they were on campus, which of course made it all the better when they complained.

“God what are with the meatheads today,” chuckled Andrew, beginning to sip into his chai tea (because of course he would be the type of person to order chai tea at a cafe), his feet still barefoot as he began scratching at his beard, feeling like it was slightly rougher against the skin, even skinnier he supposed.

“Yeah, I don’t know, maybe they put steroids in the coffee here,” smirked Rob as he drank his own chai tea, feeling a bit of a tangy taste causing him to smack his lips, his eyes narrowing as he shifted in his seat. “From the taste of it, sounds like some of it slipped into our tea.” Rob joked, both him and Andrew laughing, neither noticing that their laughs had become deeper, almost more full as they were the only ones in the cafe by this point, that was, beside their new manager who was watching them earnestly as he wiped the tables.

“God yeah, man this tastes awful,” grimaced Andrew, noticing his grip on the cup had become weaker, like his hands were feeling numb and he swore the cup was smaller than before. “I’ll go see if we can get a replacement or something.” Rob nodded, shifting in his seat as a sweat was breaking out on his brow, hoping Andrew didn’t notice. Andrew had walked up to the manager, still barefoot, not minding showing off his body now especially when there was nobody left in the cafe besides him and Rob, “Excuse me, sir, is it okay if we can get a replacement please, these just taste a bit…” The manager ignored him, though Andrew swore he could see a smirk. He was horrified as he dropped both the cups, glancing at his hands as he saw tanned skin began to appear, the tone travelling down his fingers which elongated.

“Andrew!” Rob was behind him, his own hands doing the same. Before the two could even begin to run away, they both looked down, watching their feet expand, growing to be similar footsize as Rob’s own pair of feet broke through his shoes, the toes popping out of the seams as the leather all but buckled upon his feet, the musky odour that began to emanate from them causing him to stifle a deep moan, as his feet all seemed to move on their own, instead of running away like he wanted them to, they were getting closer to Andrew. Andrew witnessed the change, unable to stop smelling his own musk that even began to make his cock erect.

“R-Rob, we need to, to get out of here…” Andrew groaned, feeling his now larger and toned hands began to caress Rob’s body, slowly tearing off his clothes as Rob’s hands did the same to him. Both their hands exploring one another’s bodies, exploring each other as they began groaning and moaning together. Andrew felt Rob’s torso begin to creak, his own fingers seemed to almost create the crevices that defined themselves in Rob’s belly as his body became thinner, his shirt falling away as pectorals began to jut out, and Andrew felt Rob doing the same to his own, Rob’s fingers coming down to create the perfect navel and defined abs for himself. “R-Rob…” Andrew moaned before he felt Rob’s lips on his own, the two of them unable to stop themselves as their cocks pressed up against one another. Andrew’s fingers traced on Rob’s shoulder blades watching as a tattoo began to form.

It was then when they felt their bulges expand, their cock elongating and lengthening against one another as their pants seemed to fall apart, Rob’s hands came to grasp Andrew’s ass and he suddenly felt his own inflate, his ass thickening and becoming somewhat wider as if the fingertips and hands that brushed it were crafting it, shaping it into the perfect bubble butt as Andrew did the same to Rob. They both glanced down as new underwear appeared, tightly fitting around their cock and ass, outlining themselves. Andrew even teased Rob, his fingers diving into the crevice of his new large ass, slapping it slightly and smiling as he did so, Rob yelped and groaned at the spanking and the fingers that continually teased diving into his ass to rub against his prostate, almost arching his back as he wanted more. Yet instead both their hands continued to explore each other’s cocks, fingers caressing the very head and the tip, rubbing against them to hear the other groan just that much more louder.

“You like that bro?” smirked Andrew as his finger came and playfully caressed the throbbing underside of Rob’s cock, his fingers making Rob tingle as he pre-cum was beginning to jut out, staining their tattered pants as Rob began to hump and thrust into Andrew’s hand.

“Andrew b-bro…I need…need more…” Rob continued to hump at Andrew faster, wanting more, hoping his collea- his bro could shove his cock down his ass, but with a seductive wink from Andrew, Rob knew that was later.

They moved even closer, feeling both their legs almost tangle as they brushed against one another, becoming thinner, much more muscular as their calves defined themselves, their bulges still rubbing against each other as they were leaking. Andrew kissed Rob once again, unable to stop as his mind was altering, his groaning and moaning becoming much more apparent as the tatters of their old ‘nerdy’ clothing disappeared, their rough beards were gone as their jaws became chiselled, as their hands ran through each other’s hairs, their locks were gone, instead their hair was straightened, each other’s fingers almost combing through and styling it on their own.

The musk was far too much, their feet both being confined to sandals as the two sniffed deeply, their fingers were clutching and grasping at each other’s cocks through their new underwear, rubbing the very head with their palm as Rob looked up at Andrew, biting his lip at the man’s blonde hair as he stared at them with brown eyes.

“B-Bro…I’m gonna…”

“Gonna cum for me bro? Do it.” And with that, Rob couldn’t stop himself as he felt Andrew’s fingertips pull at his cock one last time before he stained his underwear with heaps of cum, upon seeing this Rob quickly did the same to Andrew, only giving him barely two strokes before Andrew did the same, the two of them cumming and leaning into each other’s touch, reality bending around them as their old lives were forgotten, lost upon them, no longer the hipsters that they were but the dumb bro jocks they once resented, once were jealous of, and that they now once were.

By the time Andrew and Rob came back to be, they were both standing up, the manager facing them as he gave them their new drinks.

“Yeah bro, don’t give us any of that chai tea shit again, I’m telling you we don’t drink that,” Rob noted as the manager smiled, giving his most sincere apology as he waved goodbye to the two new jocks, the both of them laughing and flexing in their new bodies as they left the cafe. Needless to say they weren’t going to be lingering around any longer, they had frat parties and other “cool shit” to be doing.

Jimmy watches Adam, a wrestling jock, everyday secretly with hearts in his eyes because despite Adam bullying him for being a nerd, he can’t help but go mad over him. After the latest case of bullying, an old man, which Jimmy recognized as the janitor, saw and gave him a powder, telling Jimmy that, if he uses this powder, he can change whoever he wants in whatever way he wants. Jimmy took it, thanking him, but was unsure if it would work or not. He figured that he should at least try it out to see if it worked or not because he figured that trying and it doing nothing is better than not trying at all.

While Adam was practicing with a friend, Jimmy slinked up to Adam’s drink without being noticed and snuck the powder into it. After finishing practice, Adam’s friend, Shawn, left and Adam grabbed his drink and chugged it out. Adam finished the drink but dropped it after finishing and grabbed onto himself, as his body stated to feel sick and and started hurting.

Jimmy couldn’t believe his eyes because the powder was legit - it was actually working. He saw Adam’s hair darkening into a brown, his muscles deflate and his clothing changed as well. Adam’s memories of his bros, all the bangin’ hot babes he’s fucked, joining the wrestling in middle school and playing ever since and all his competitions disappeared and were replaced by reading comics, playing games, watching anime, not doing too well in anything physical, meeting his boyfriend, Jimmy, in middle school and both of them being constantly beat up and bullied throughout school.

After his changes have finished, Artie, formerly Adam, pulled himself together, picked up his glasses up off the ground and saw his boyfriend waiting for him. He ran up to him, gave him a kiss and they left out to head back to Jimmy’s place to study each others bodies. Artie may not know his previous life, buy Jimmy does, and he finally has the boy he’s always wanted to be his and his alone.

“Look I just came to check up on my son, s-stop this!”

Dave had been excited about his son going to college ever since he enrolled with his own 4.0 GPA. His kid was smart as he could be, but he was “different”. He was nothing like his good ol’ dad during his college days, he wasn’t into sports or frats or anything like that. 

However, when he hadn’t heard from his son for weeks on end he finally tracked him down to some frat where some muscular man stood in his way and was now doing something to him. Dave couldn’t move, his large body shuddering as he removed his underwear, the last article of his clothing to reveal his pudgy body. His hand slowly came to put on a hat. 

“That’s good, that hat will start the process bro” cooed the jock as he watched the naked man, his hand coming to caress the man’s cock. Dave moaned as he felt the hand of the muscular jock on his own length, he knew this was wrong but it felt so good.

“N-No, what is- fuck! It’s growing!” David moaned as he started to feel his shaft being jerked slowly as the shaft lengthened growing longer and longer in the man’s hand, inch by inch it snaked forward and continued to grow wider, throbbing in the jock’s hand. “What are you doing?!” 

The jock only smiled up at David and that’s when he realised the same heat was beginning to reside in his own feet.

Similar to his cock, his own toes started to lengthen and grow, splaying forward, thankful that his shoes and socks had been taken off as he began to see his own toes had grown so long they looked disproportionate to his own feet. That was before he shuddered as the soles started to enlarge to great lengths, mostly growing wider and thickening to fit the size of his newfound bigger toes.

His own skin was smoothing with a youthful finesse as the jock’s hand brushed over his meaty thighs.

“Yeah bro, you’re gonna make a good addition to the team!” said the jock.

“No! I’m not some stupid jo- Aw god, please!” David groaned as he started to see his own fat and meaty thighs beginning to meld and merge into muscularity. His own legs started to grow leaner and longer, making him somehow grow even taller than he already was as he started to feel like he had just come from the gym. His own legs churned and continued to fatten up slightly, growing with muscular quads and calves.

Every part of his body continued to grow younger and younger, age sapping away from him as wrinkles from his visage soon faded to reveal a more youthful and handsome face. His own jawline grew sharper by the moment as his grey chest hair started to become shorter and a rich brown. 

His chest heaving with the muscle of his past days as a quarterback with meaty muscle mounding its way with deep crevices to form his large pectorals and a light six pack of abs.

His own biceps were being massaged by the jock and David moaned out loud, enjoying the sensation of his own self getting younger, no longer having biceps made out of fat and more so rock hard muscle.

“Oh fuck! Make me a fucking jock!” cried David as his own cock throbbed and he felt himself being jerked off by the jock with his own tongue beginning to lick and lap at his head. “God yes!” 

Cum rocketed out of David’s fat cock as he started to feel his own self continue to wane the years away as he was reverted back to his early twenties. Back to when he was a college quarterback, he flexed his muscles and looked down at his fellow frat bro. 

“Thanks man, fuck that was good.”

David’s nostalgia got the better of him, as he sat down and smiled with his pearly white teeth, fond memories coming back to him as he was now just a simple jock back in the prime of his college days - ready to enjoy reliving his youth again, and making good use of his bros along the way.

My mother tends to sleep with a lot of guys. Ever since my father left her for his secretary things have not been easy. For starters, me coming out to her was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. Then going off to college was just as difficult because I always felt like I needed to protect her. 

Coming home from College was always awkward, mostly she would have me do chores while she disappeared. I never understood why but I didn’t argue with her because I knew she was going through stuff. I had discovered some old things in our attic that belonged to my grandparents and when I asked about them my mother insisted I don’t go up there again. What could she be hiding? 

I studied psychology at our community college while I worked to earn enough money to transfer to a University next year. I always had a thing for Hypnosis and found myself watching video after video on the subject. Out of all of Mom’s boyfriends her latest one Chet was someone I couldn’t help but admire however, Mom broke up with him and he comes by a lot begging for her to take him back. I thought maybe I could persuade Mom to keep him around for awhile even though personality wise we are like oil and water. 

I had the video running on my laptop on the table and instructed Chet to go into the Kitchen and I would go and get my mother. Knowing very well she wasn’t home and hopefully I will only need to be gone a few minutes before Chet’s fully in trance. After a few minutes I went downstairs to find Chet completed out. I always wanted a brother so I figured I would make him a part of the family. Luckily from listening in on conversations he didn’t have one of his own so no interference. 

I inherited a couple of old books from my grandfather when he passed away. He was a warlock but my family didn’t want me to associate myself with him so I secretly visited him while I was away at college and he taught me everything he knew. I flipped through the pages and found an appearance spell. I figured this would do nicely later.