#butt growth

"Ayo, what the fu- uuuuuuugggggghhhh" Corey spat, before his asscheeks began to tingle as his prostate sent off shockwaves of pleasure throughout his straight gym rat body.

His asscheeks rumbled as they turned rosy red and began to inflate and grow with incredible speed. A cool breeze of air brushed past his now semi naked cheeks as his pants became too big for his massive, jiggling globes.

His IQ Dropped sharply, the average, straight biker boy Corey swiftly became a dumb gay himbo who's only purpose was to ride.

Corey stood there. Emptyheaded, caked up and horny.

"DAMN RIGHT BRO! FUCK MY JIGGLING ASS!" He bent over on his motorcycle and presented his jiggling cheeks to his new boyfriend.

“I get it Joshy. You earned this sweat after training me so hard. Now cover up, you look like a whore.” Mike said condescendingly, throwing a noticeably smaller towel in Joshy’s direction. Mike grabbed what appeared to be a letter from his shorts as well. He tucked it into his towel as he led the way to the sauna.

Joshy quickly covered up his manhood, flipping his cock upward and tightly wrapping his towel around his midsection. Once his cock was put away Joshy realized just how small his towel was. His thick bubble butt stuck out obscenely, barely covered by the thin fabric.

“Don’t you think this towel is a little fruity?" Joshy asked.

“Fruity? What a funny word. Joshy. Tell me honestly. What did you think of me before this afternoon?” Mike asked.

“I thought you were a fag. At first I didn’t want to train you. I couldn’t stand fags, especially the girly ones, but you actually helped me realize all fags aren’t bad.” Joshy spoke.

“I thought it was something like that. Joshy, listen up. You changed me for the better. Now I’m going to return the favor. You love ‘fruity’ things. All things ‘fruity’ in fact.” Mike said with directness. Joshy instantly knew that to be true. Man did his client know him! “You especially love acting femme. You now talk with a lisp and mostly utilize your higher register. ” With that Joshy’s gait began to change as they walked towards the sauna doors, becoming wider, more languid, showing off his ass as he followed behind Mike’s gym pumped form. His lips pursed. He widened his eyes, making them appear more doe like.

Mike held open the large glass door to the sauna. Plumes of thick white steam poured forth.

“Thank you, thir.” Joshy lisped, his voice pitching higher. Mike smiled at that, feeling ever more the man.

The spa was exceptional. Atlas Gym sparing no expense on amenities. The walls were covered in aspen, several nooks and benches formed artfully designed areas for members to lounge and talk out plans. However, Mike had different ideas for these spaces. He led Joshy to a particularly secluded section of benches walled off by intricate wicker walls designed to look like birds nests, with woven private rooms and various levels of benches it was perfect for what Mike had in mind. Mike stopped here, removing his towel and letting his long cock splay out over his legs. Joshy opted to keep his towel on, sitting daintly down on the bench and crossing his legs.

“Joshy, you were just telling me how fruity you are.” Mike said smirking, loving how the man before him became completely changed in demeanor.

“Oh right.” Joshy chirped. “it’th tho weird, like, everyone thinkth I’m gay, but I’m as thstraight ath they come, girl!” Joshy giggled.

“Joshy…enough fooling. You’re gayer than a three dollar bill. You’re a walking, talking faggot, unable to concentrate when a real man’s package is visible. You’d do most anything to suck and get fucked by a big dick. Total size queen, you. Why do you think you love the smell of my sweat so much? You’re a fag slut Joshy, just accept it.” Mike snarled. His cock slowly rising like a flag pole as he uttered his latest command at Joshy.

“But I…no…the woman out front? I—I told you how I wanted to bang-“ Joshy sputtered, holding for dear life to his hetero-sexuality.

“Mikey you told me you loved her outfit. How you want to get more into cardio, because you’ve gotten too big.”

“I—You— you’re doing something to me. I gotta get out of here!” Joshy jumped up, his small towel falling to the floor as he swished and ran with his wrists bent. Mike lept up too, moving like lightning, his long legs carryong him faster to the door. Joshy collided straight into the tall jock’s hairy, sweaty chest. The man’s deep musk invading his nostrils.

The wheels began turning in Joshy’s mind as the stench began permeating through his senses. He gasped, realizing it was the smell rewriting his mind. Mike’s funk was controlling him. He covered his nose, breathing through his mouth. He tried with all his might to rub the sweat from his face. Mike only chuckled deeply as he lazily grabbed the back of Joshy’s head and shoved it into his other pit.

“So you figured it out, huh?” Mike said through a smile. “I have you to thank for it, Joshy. It wasn’t until we started training together that I realized the power of my musk. My whole life I never hit the gym, always too afraid to take the plunge. But when I began training with you—something changed, I started producing, what I can only think to call, pheromones…they don’t work on women, but for whatever reason men go crazy around my musk. They fall right in line. Right under my control.” Mikey smirked at the struggling hunk before him.

"I couldn’t believe it at first. I jokingly made commands to friends at work and they’d oddly fulfill them. Small things at first, buying me lunch on their dime and then bigger things like my asshole boss’ need to suck me off under my desk every day after giving me a 15% raise.”

Joshy continued breathing through his mouth, until Mike’s large hand covered it. The smaller, thick body builder held out as long as he could, his face turning red until…He gasped, he sputtered, he lost. Joshy’s hand pulled away from his nose for a deep breath. Mike’s pungent odor filled his nostrils with a burning funk.

“There, there Joshy. Just breath. Breathe deep, slut. Breathe deeper than you ever have before.” Joshy moaned and huffed and huffed and moaned into Mike’s armpit, tears streaming down his face as he succumbed to Mike’s pheromones.

“Mike this is wrong. You can’t just change people.” Joshy pleaded through his huffs and licks. “People have lives!”

“I know-I promise I know. But that’s why I need you. Once I transform you I’m going to use my musk on myself. I don’t want to become the power hungry twats I hated. I just need one guy to ground me and that has to be you. You’re the only one who can reshape me, Joshy. Please.

Joshy looked upon his client’s handsome, pained face. Seeing honesty in his eyes he nodded. He succumbed to Mike’s words.

“Now slut. Accept everything I just told you. Tell me what you are.” Joshy took in one final huff, filling his lungs with the potent mix.

"I’m totally a fag thslut for real men’th dick.” Joshy moaned in between huffing Mike’s sweaty pits. “I’m, like, totally obsethed with your thmelly pitsth, Mike. Fuck Daddy, can I thuck you off?” Joshy lisped, going weak at the knees as he pawed at Mike’s fat cock.

“In a minute Joshy. First tell me honestly about the blonde woman on the elyptical from earlier.”

“She ith like totally fierce!” Joshy responded in between huffs. “I’m jealous because I need to get on her cardio game. I’m, like, waaay too big right now.” Joshy sighed.

“Never fret Joshy. Let’s go back to our room and I can tell you some more fun things. We can even strategize next steps for your fitness game and then I need you to read this to me as I huff my own stink. It will ensure I never use this power on anyone ever again, unless it is deemed valid by you.” Mike said assuredly.

God he was so perfect, Joshy thought and nodded like bobble head as Mike led them back to their nested room. His large hand held Joshy’s smaller one. Joshy knew he was stronger than Mike, but he felt so small around the man.

Mike laid Joshy down on a tall wooden bench, designed as a massage table. Mike placed his now swishy trainer’s thick neck and head into a cushioned pillow for support. His face open to the floor below. Massage oil was conveniently located at the bench’s side.

Mike marvelled at the man before him. Just an hour ago Josh drilled Mike like a machine, relentlessly commanding his body through rigourous sets. Now Mike would return the favor to his sweet Joshy.

"Joshy I want you to completely relax for me. Accept what I say easily.” Mike languidly spelled out. The large bodybuilder sighed out contentedly, his eyes closing, his breathing deepening as he took more of Mike’s musk into his lungs. Mike coated his hands with oil and began to rub the pronated man before him, their sweat acting to further lubricate his strong motions.

“Joshy you are my boyfriend. I am the only man for you. You are my little fag slut, bottom of a trainer. Your cock never gets hard and the pleasure you receive centers from this fat ass.” Mike laid out plainly. beginning to work open Joshy’s soon to be loose hole.

“Oh fuck daddy.” Joshy moaned. “You feel thooo good.” Mike smirked down at the writhing man on his two fingers. He began pistoning in and out of his new boyfriend’s pussy, that girly lisp music to his ears.

"Over the next few months, Joshy, you will completely reshape your fitness program. I like twinks with fat asses and flaccid cocks. Your sole effort will be to shed this bulky muscle, except that of your legs and ass; There I need you to redouble your efforts. Grow big Joshy. Grow a fat, muscle ass for daddy with huge thighs and calves to match. A fat ass with a hyper sensitive pussy.” Mike said, his fingering increasing in speed, a third thick finger added to play Joshy’s boy button.

“Fuck. Feelth thoo good! Yeth daddy, fuck—but wait. My manager. The team. I’m thupothed to be sthrong.” Joshy moaned out as his pussy continued to open.

“I’ll take care of them…In fact I think it is time for you to move on from this company altogether. With you by my side we can start our own gym” Mike said thoughtfully. Without so much as a word, Mike pulled out his fingers from Joshy’s aching twat and continued to roughly massage his new boyfriend’s body. “I’m going to worship these big muscles for the last time they’ll ever be at this size. After today your diet and fitness goals change Joshy.”

Mike poured over Joshy’s thick thighs, kneading into his muscular ass with relentless precision. His strong hands found there way up his posterior chain and into his large, hairless mid back. Mike worshiped the man’s gorgeous shoulders, and crawled his hands down each thunderous arm. For Joshy’s part all he could do was moan femininely as his boyfriend worked his body over.

Joshy’s eyes were closed during most of the massage, but they flew open at the feeling of something wet and spongey at his lips. There under the open massage head rest stood at attention the most beautiful cock he had ever laid eyes on. Joshy moaned as he accepted it into his faggy, slut mouth. The cock quickly became too much for the new gay man. He choked and sputtered, his face glossed with tears and spit. Just when it felt it was too much Mike spoke.

“Joshy, relax. Fag slut’s like you don’t have a gag reflux.” Instantly Joshy accepted the thick cock down his throat. His sputters replaced with girly moans. Mike continued his assault on his boyfriend’s throat even as he reached his hands back to his muscular bubble butt. Joshy began to moan uncontrollably, his body overcome with a sense of fullness as his throat was filled with cock and Mike re-inserted his three fingers into his wet hole. Mike began to piston his cock in and out of his new boyfriend’s throat all while playing his boy button with expert precision. In that moment Joshy’s ass convulsed around Mike’s three fingers. He saw stars as his soft deflated cock began to uselessly puddle cum from his large balls. At the sight of his man’s orgasm, Mike unleashed a torrent of cum down Joshy’s throat, moaning deeply with each thrust.

The two separated from one another. Mike grabbed the aforementioned letter he had written for Joshy to read to him.

“Babe. I need you to read this to me. It will ensure I never become corrupted by my power. I will forever be devoted to you and our community. It’s all up to you now.” Mike smiled. He handed Joshy the letter, took a seat on the bench and began to huff his own musk in earnest. His pupils dilated, his jaw went slack, and Joshy began to read in his new girly voice.

… Six months later …

Joshy moaned loudly. Bouncing his fat ass up and down like a basketball on Mike’s thick, muscular body. His man’s huge, 9” rod disappearing up his sloppy hole with masterful skill, his now slender body covered in a sheen of sweat. The muscle he retained glistened on his hairless frame, his pecs bounced in time with each quivering landing he made. Joshy’s dick now permanently soft and leaking, slapping his man’s thick, jizz covered abdomen.

“God babe—fuck—just-like-that! Fuck!” Joshy squealed almost losing it as he rode his man’s dick. Mike, feeling himself getting closer, took control. Playtime was over. He grabbed his man’s fat ass and began thrusting upward, lifting his man like a human fleshlight, his huge hairy guns bulging with muscle as he pounded the eager bottom’s hole. Suddenly Mike stopped his thrusts, watching his man’s angelic, blissed out face as he bottomed out. He held him there, moaning uncontrollably in heat.

“Whose ass is this babe?” Mike smirked, keeping a firm grip on Joshy until he answered.

“Fuck! Yours!” He moaned and with that Mike again began hammering away.

“That’s-right-this-ass- is- MINE!” Mike grunted. His cock began to pulse, it wouldn’t be long now. With all the strength he now had, he easily rolled the lighter Joshy onto his back, his cock never leaving his man’s hole. Now in missionary he began pounding in earnest. Joshy reached up, tweaking Mike’s thick nipples as his hole was pummeled. Joshy’s own dick was left untouched, the fullness in his ass was all the pleasure he needed.

Mike hit a fever pitch. His thrusts becoming erratic, Joshy’s hole squelching as Mike pistoned in and out.

“Fuck Joshy. Fuck, you make daddy so happy fuck. FUCK! Gonna breed that slut hole babe. Fuckkk babe. TAKE IT!!” Mike screamed and babbled incoherently. Pulse after pulse of cum erupted from Mike’s dick. His huge body giving Josh its full 250 lbs of weight while Mikey’s lean 160 lbs took it like a champ!

“Daddy fuck!!! You’re so fucking big!! Fuck me daddy. Fuck my HOLE fuckkkk meeeeee!!” Joshy squealed, his 3” flaccid cock gushed forth as his hole quivered around Mike’s shaft until it finally clenched down, not wanting the fireworks to end.

Mike left his still hard cock in Joshy’s thick ass, as the two lovers panted and gently kissed. Mike slipped onto Joshy’s side, cradling the smaller man in his huge arms. They spooned as his cock continued to spontaneously convulse in his man’s hole.

Life was bliss for the gym owning power couple. Pretty soon after Joshy’s initial changes began, Mike’s own changes took effect. Mike purchased a local failing gym in the gayborhood and became its CEO. He made careful hypnosis files for himself to let Joshy mold him into the perfect Dom Daddy. As he sniffed his own musk and heard his voice, the changes were sealed and day by day he became the monster Daddy he was today. They both promised themselves to love and honor the other. Not only did they come to honor one another, they became the conssumate daddies of the gayborhood.

The couple gave back to the community, fostering change and Mike made good on his word. Joshy was his guiding light…everywhere except the bedroom and neither would have it any other way.

| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Next Turn |

Chapter 4 – It’s Starting to Show

The air in the room was starting to feel… different.

The game board glowed a little brighter now, as if feeding on their attention. Four tokens gleamed, pulsing like they were alive. There was no denying it anymore — the game was doing something. And it wasn’t slowing down.

Zack grabbed the dice, still trying to act like he was in control.

“Let’s go. I better not get another stupid hair card.”

He rolled.

The dice clattered across the board and landed on a deep red space. The token lit up and a card popped out with a familiar mechanical click.

“Your backside is growing. Your pants won’t fit quite right anymore.”

Zack raised an eyebrow.

“What the hell kind of card is that—?”

But then he felt it.

A weird warmth in his lower body. Pressure, spreading out across his hips. The waistband of his pants tugged tighter across his backside — and then started to slide. Slowly, unmistakably, the fabric shifted downward. He yanked his jersey lower, but too late — Ty was already snorting with laughter.

“Yo… dude.”

“Shut up,” Zack muttered.

“You’ve got full plumber crack, bro!” Ty cackled. “You gonna fix a sink or something?”

Zack scrambled to adjust his waistband, only for his thicker, rounder butt to keep pushing it down again. His pants just didn’t fit the same anymore.

“I think your plumber job’s catching up to you,” Logan added with a smirk.

“It’s just the padding from practice,” Zack snapped, but even he didn’t sound convinced. He adjusted again, tugging at his pants, his expression growing tense.

Ty took the dice next, still grinning.

“Alright, my turn. Let’s see if I grow a mustache or something.”

He rolled — blue space. The token slid. A card popped out.

“Your muscles are filling out. You’re stronger than ever.”

Almost instantly, Ty felt his jersey tighten across the chest. His sleeves creaked slightly as his biceps swelled — not ridiculously, but noticeably. His shoulders got broader, arms fuller, legs thicker. His body filled out fast, and he could feel the strength in every inch of him.

“Whoa…”

He flexed, watching the sleeves pull tighter.

“Okay… okay, this is kinda dope.”

Zack blinked.

“When did you get that jacked?”

“Like… now, apparently.” Ty laughed, giving a flex that made the fabric strain. “Guess I’m leading the scoreboard.”

Zack didn’t say anything, but he was clearly bothered.

Logan grabbed the dice next, looking curious now.

“Alright, let’s see if I finally sprout gills or something.”

The dice rolled — another blue space.

“Your glutes are growing stronger. Power comes from the hips.”

Logan raised a brow — but then his face twisted slightly.

“What the—?”

His lower body felt tight. Compressed. Like someone had just inflated both sides of his ass.

He stood up quickly, turning in place.

“Are you kidding me? What the hell is this?”

His football pants now clung to a massive, solid bubble butt that practically bounced with each step. It was round. It was heavy. It was impossible to ignore.

“Damn,” Ty muttered. “That’s a swimmer’s butt if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Bro, you got dumptruck upgrades,” Zack said, finally cracking a grin.

Logan groaned and flopped back onto the couch — slowly.

“It’s like sitting on two pillows. I don’t hate it. But still. What the hell is this game?”

Zack looked at the board. All eyes turned toward the hallway.

“Alex!” he called. “Let’s go — it’s your turn.”

They expected him to stomp in, all attitude like usual.

But when Alex stepped into the room, everyone froze.

He looked… different.

His posture was taller. Shoulders broader. Jaw more defined. There was a hint of muscle in his chest and arms now, subtle but definitely there. He looked like someone who could be on the team — not just the annoying little brother tagging along.

“Whoa,” Ty said. “Wait. When did you get older?”

Alex blinked, confused.

Then he caught his reflection in the mirror near the entryway. He stopped cold.

“What the—?”

He stepped forward slowly, touching his face. Looking at the thickness in his neck, the slight new edge in his arms.

“I’m… I look like I’m in college.”

Logan whistled.

“Guess the board decided to fast-track puberty.”

Zack didn’t laugh.

He was staring — jaw tight, eyes narrowed. For the first time, his younger brother was starting to look like… him.

Or worse — maybe better.

“Well,” Zack muttered, “you’re here. Might as well roll.”

Alex stayed silent for a beat. Then he nodded and stepped forward. He rolled the dice.

Blue space.

“You’re filling out fast. Muscle looks good on you.”

The glow surged. Alex flinched slightly — and then grunted.

He looked down as his shirt pulled tighter. His chest pushed forward. Arms rounded out. His shoulders bulged slightly as new mass spread across his body.

He flexed instinctively — and his eyes widened at the result.

“…Holy crap,” he whispered.

“Little bro’s getting stacked,” Ty said, impressed.

“Guess he’s finally becoming a man,” Logan teased.

Alex, still stunned, looked at himself in the mirror again.

And this time, he smiled.

“This… this is kinda awesome.”

Zack’s eyes narrowed even more.

“…Yeah. Awesome.”

Content warning. This story contains some light homophobic language, themes of body horror, gassiness and implied toilet use. Please enjoy kinks responsibly.

Room A55, your new home for the semester. Everyone, including you, were surprised to be accepted into the fraternity. They suspiciously agreed without question, even being rather eager for you to join them. You worried about how well you’d fit in, not being particularly ‘dudebro’ in nature. Reading books on college football seemed like an oxymoron, but at least you now understand the general concept behind ‘touchdowns’. Your options had been limited, it was the last space available; so here you were, about to meet your college roommate.

Looking for the right door, you pass by all the pumpkins decorating the dorm building corridor. Superstitious as it may be, but moving in on Halloween seemed like a bad omen. Especially considering the frat was known for its…tricks more than its treats. Eventually you find the right door - the number hanging loosely from a metal placard. You go to knock, but instead your clenched fist pushes the door ajar.

The frat dorm was a mess, clothes piled up on the floor and take-out packaging sat like historical artifacts. On the bed lay your new frat roommate. Brett, a 20 year old jock. Shirtless, his fit form was on full display, chest glistening in the warm sunlight bouncing through the closed window. He looks over briefly and barely pays you any attention, instead he seems focused on cleaning his sneakers with a…towel. A football game screeches out from a nearby radio

You’re knocked back by a wall of humid, acrid air - swirling with the scent of sweat and feet. You turn away from the room and take a big gulp before entering the hotbox.

“Uh…hey dude.” You call out and then recoil, regretfully. Each word meant swallowing down a mouthful of body odour. “Ack. Mind if I crack the win—”

*Brrrpp* A loud burp interrupts you. “Hey queer, was wondering when you were gonna show up. The names Brett.”

You are taken aback by how casually he threw that insult at you. Sure, you weren’t expecting the frat to be the most progressive of places but you didn’t expect to get clocked so quickly. “Wh—you can’t call me that! You…meathead.” You attempt to clap back, but your slightly wheezy voice failed to convey much confidence. Brett’s bemused expression didn’t help.

“Don’t get all worked up princess. It’s a matter of fact. It’s just how things work here, you’ve been assigned as my gay.” Brett sits up, giving you a full view of his muscled chest. “Chill. I’m not like most of the others here, I have nothing against the gays, you have your place on the hierarchy. And i’m an ally. Count yourself lucky bro.” How kind, you think. Today’s off to a great start.

You try to assess the seriousness of his declaration, but once again, he just smiles back at you. “Yes, how very supportive of you. Brett. I’m not sure our definition of ally is the same…”

“So, gay.”

“My name’s actually—“ You start to correct, before Brett loudly clears his throat.

“So. Is that your Halloween costume?” Brett questions, looking incredulously down at your pastel coloured hoodie and baggy trousers. He tilts his head towards your messy hair that sits just above your eyes - dyed rather flamboyantly with blonde highlights.

“These are my normal clothes?” You respond, though it sounds more like a question than a statement of fact.

“Cute.” He says, with obvious sarcasm. Brett on the other hand looked like the typical all American jock. If anyone was wearing a costume, it was him. But you wagered he enjoyed playing into that stereotype. That it was part of the persona he liked to display. The toxic fuckboy. But with secretly a heart of gold? God, you hoped so.“Enough with the fucking pleasantries though brah.” Ah. Perhaps not. Maybe a bronze heart at best. “So, do you like it up the butt hole?”

“What!?”

“Oh learn to lighten up and laugh at yourself. I’m a butt guy too. Although maybe not quite in the same way. What makes YOU like ass so much?” It would have been easier to argue if Brett wasn’t so hot. And oblivious in a annoyingly cute way. Well intentioned but clearly falling short on the brain cell lottery. You catch yourself hopelessly blushing in front of him.

“I—I’m not gonna explain my love of butts to you. They’re just nice. Soft, round and big in all the right places…ahem.”

“Uh huh. Don’t let me stop you. How about mine? How would you rate my pumpkin, as a gayboy?” Without giving you a chance to profusely refuse, he confidently turns away and flashes his rear end in your direction. You think to look away for a second but a stirring in your groin won the argument in your head.

“It’s fine. Not bad, just a lil flat perhaps.” You utter casually, as if giving your thoughts on someone’s cooking. Christ alive, why are you standing here discussing the merits of ass with some straight meathead? Maybe he’s secretly closeted?

“Yeah it could be better for sure man. But come closer, get a better view buttlover.” Failing to hold back a smirk, he leans forward so that his ass sticks out more.

“Ugh, why you gotta be such a dick. We literally just meet and this is your first impression to give me.”

“Oh give me a break, you guys love a toxic fuckboy. Don’t think I don’t see all the gay thirsting I get on my social media posts. Hell, you’re probably one of them, ey bro.” Brett looks at you with an intense, knowing stare. You didn’t like how you were bereft of any witty response to that assertion. Like he had just caught you dead to rights and you had no defence or grounds for denial. It was hard - nigh on impossible, to explain his sexual appeal. But yet there it was.

“Can—can we talk about—“

“And it is quite adorable how flustered you lot get in my presence. Don’t worry, you’ll be treated well with me. You’ve already stalled enough, so hurry up and get on your knees so you can rim me.”

…

The request hangs in the air. There’s a second of silence, being caught at a loss for words. “What the hell! I’m not doing that!” You finally insist, although, your stiffening dick may have a different opinion on the matter. It was shameful, but being used by this douchebag was turning you on. You tried your best to maintain some sense of dignity. “No.” You reconfirm, though your voice was noticeably more shaky and the tenting was becoming harder to hide.

“Look buttboy, we both know that you’re gonna eat my ass, sooner or later. Want to stay here, you gotta pass this simple test. Every frat gay had to do it.” Brett strides over to you, places a hand on your shoulder and smirks. You swallow, avoiding all eye contact with him. Were you about to do this? It seemed insane that you were even considering it. “So let’s just skip the fake indignation and get to the part where I sit on your face. Then we can both go about our day.”

“Stupid hazing rituals. Gotta put it like that…why you need to be a jackass.” You can’t help but smile slightly. Despite his overt toxicity, there was a certain charm exuding from his laidback personality. From the way he just spoke his mind. Having a nice body might have had some influence too…

“You love it though. I’m real easy to like. Huhuh. We’ll be an inseparable duo in no time.” Oh yes, the new Laurel and Hardy routine. He’s a loveable dick and you’re the comedic foil for his braindead antics. Damn, this was nuts. “Time’s wasting. On the floor now, boy. Please.” He says with overdramatic sarcasm, shining his perfect white teeth through a wide grin.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing, and yet, his dominant voice has you feeling…things. Without a word you kneel down in front of him. Embarrassed by how easily you caved to his request. You justify that it must just be a hazing method, a way to get his respect. You’ve heard this kinda of thing happened, at least he was upfront about it. Somewhat refreshing, honestly.

He backs up, eclipsing your vision with his tight rear. Again, it could do with a bit more heft. Though for someone like him, I guess it’s not important - it’s not like he’s bottoming, you rationalise. Brett stops an inch from your face. Geez, he was really milking this whole exchange. This close you could discern every bump and pore on his rear. You see your blurry shape reflected in a drop of sweat shimmering on his cheek. On the upside, at least his ass was clean-shaven. The downside was an uninterrupted view of his clenched hole. Something your cock seemed quite pleased about, despite what your brain tried to tell you - the two weren’t on speaking terms seemingly right now.

You take a long deep breath and push your face into his crack, muffling the seemingly distant sound of him snickering above you. It was simple, easy. Just close your eyes and…lick.

It wasn’t too bad, at least that’s what you tell yourself. Or what your dick is attempting to assert to you. It’s just like licking an ice cream cone, only more salty and rank. Ass flavoured.

“That’s it, get right in there buttock boy. Fu—fuck. If I cum, you better not tell anyone.” Ugh, you wish he would just stop talking, because now you really wanted to make him cum.

The pressure above you intensifies rapidly as Brett pushes down lower onto you. He sighs loudly to ensure you hear his open enjoyment of your humiliation. You seem to lower impossibly closer to the floor, the weight of his rear getting heavier as your body feels lighter and lighter as each second under him passes. With your hands you attempt to push back, palming each round globe of his rear as they seemingly inflate under your touch, ballooning around you. “Mmphhh!” Your moans are muffled under his increasing weight. It was like your whole body was being sucked into him like a vacuum, your legs magically lifting from the ground as they kick helplessly at the air.

It felt as though you had been spun around, now facing out against the room, seeing his dirty laundry strewn across the floor. Your form contorts and twists below you, pulling into one large sphere of mass that centres around your face. That twinky figure you were proud of dissolving into pure fat that effortlessly rounds out. With a pathetic squirt, your cock unloads into the air before becoming immediately flaccid, pulling up against your changing shape. The small bump soon flattens into a perfectly smooth surface.

A bundle of clothes falls below you, crumpling messily across the floor. The bright pastel colours of your hoodie taunt you from the corners of your vision. Looking straight ahead, you see your cheeks swell and begin to obscure your view. Expanding like two giant swollen basketballs. They double and then triple in size. The tissue around your face becoming pillowy and soft, burying any hint of facial features - smoothing out any imperfections on your skin. Not a single hair remains on your body. Your lips tighten and pucker, nestled deep beneath the two mounds of flesh. You feel yourself stuck in place, suspended in the air, somehow floating effortlessly above the floor. You get the distinct impression that your form - whatever it is now, is part of something larger. Merged and absorbed like some horror experiment gone wrong. Indeed, something had gone very wrong, that much you couldn’t deny as much as you wanted to. Your sense of being felt…wrong, alien. Sensing phantom limbs you no longer possessed. Somehow, you were different. Changed. You don’t even want to dare imagine it, to think about what could have possibly just happened.

“You finished back there bro? Aaaah. Yeah…mmm, you’re finished.” Wait did he just climax, what the hell happened? Where are you? You feel your weight shift as he stands up, still perplexed as to why you couldn’t see anything. You desperately struggle to move, to no avail. A hand seems to grab at you, filling you with pleasure. Just then, a blinding ray of sun lights up your world and you are greeted to a shocking sight. Bretts ass. You are staring out at his huge cheeks being pulled apart in the mirror. And then it hits you like a truck. Wait, no, not his ass. You. It’s you! You are looking out between those huge cheeks, your cheeks. Your face was now Bretts bubbly backside. A rear that had seemingly doubled in size since you last saw it, just a minute ago. It looked impossibly big, fake even. Like it had undergone extensive plastic surgery. You could feel his cock and balls hang heavily just below you, pulling your lower skin taught. The sensation is surreal, as if in a lucid dream. You go to shout out, but the only response is the twitching of his hole, a tiny squeak escaping your puckered anus mouth.

“Enjoying yourself, buttface? What’s it like being an ASS? My ASS.” The way he emphasised THAT word wasn’t making things any easier. “My thicc booty. My smelly butthole. My shitter.” Great, he’s a monologging narcissist too. Why did he have to take pleasure in making you his disgusting rear? It made it so much worse. This, in a word, stank. In many respects. “Happy Halloween by the way. I love what you’ve come as, looking like a phat pumpkin. But bro, I think your new look will be more permanent than most costumes. Hahaha.” It was hard to find the humour in what seemed like a twisted horror story come to life.

Brett gropes at you again, his fingers digging into your jiggly, sensitive flesh. Every touch is like pure pleasure coursing through you. His hands pull you apart, parting your giant cheeks and letting light flood your view once more. It only lasts a moment. And then he suddenly lets go, your cheeks immediately clapping back like an elastic rubber band pulled too tight. Your displaced weight bounces against each other and quickly tightens back to firmness against your ‘face’.

You had been fully absorbed into him, adding a bunch of fat to his now enormous butt. Your face nestled between two huge globes of sensitive flesh. He does a few squats, lowering your partially obscured view to the ground and back up again on repeat like hanging from a bungee cord - just to hammer home your helplessness as his living rear end. No longer was he a fratbro, but by definition he was your owner. In the same way a person owned arms and legs, he owned you as a butt.

“Damn boy. Dunno if you’ll fit inside my shorts anymore, you are one XL meat surprise.” He laughs, slapping his booty, causing you to wobble and jiggle comically in the reflection. You don’t think you’ve heard a straight guy talk so much and with such adoration about his own butt. Whether that was a good thing remained to be seen.

It’s really starting to sink in. You’re a literal ass, a toxic fat ass belonging to a toxic straight fuckboy who’s hygiene seems questionable, if not nonexistent. Fuck. What do you even do now, aside from the obvious? Is he gonna wedge a pair of underwear between your clapping cheeks and go about his day like nothing happened?

“Better go over the basics now, won’t have much cause to address you directly going forward, just being a part of my body after all. Like bro, who talks to their butt? To be honest your role as a straight fratboy’s ass is pretty simple. To put it bluntly, your only purpose will be to let out farts and expel my shit. That might seem messed up right now, but you’ll come to look forward to it and savour every instance of use.” Please no, you internally scream. There was no way in hell you would ever enjoy that. This was so fucked up. “Oh, and of course, you’re to remain as tight as humanly possible, cuz nothing is ever gonna penetrate you. Breeding is me and my cocks job. Your pleasure comes from fulfilling…lower needs. Sorry about that bro, but only a minor drawback to the luxury of being my sweaty rear end.” That was genuinely…disappointing. Admittedly, you felt so empty. Like there was just a huge space inside of you ready to be filled. A cock stretching you out wouldn’t be the worst thing. Instead you’d be a fart machine, forced to gulp at his scent and listen to the foul noises leaving your mouth. Rather than being fed dick, you’d only be filled by his half digested meals.

Brett walks around the room, each step causing you to wobble hopelessly from side to side. You hear the unmistakable sound of his stomach rumbling, accompanied by a sensation of bloated fullness filling your body. The humiliatingly familiar feeling gives you a daunting sense of dread at your inevitable fate.

“Of course after I break you in with a few…tasks, that mind of yours will be mushed into nothing more than waste for me to fucking dump. You won’t have much use for it anymore bro. Those thoughts, those personality traits, that stupid sense of individualism. Those misplaced ambitions of being a functioning human being. You will be much better being of service to me, your charming, hot as fuck, straight bro. Each time I use the toilet a little more of you will be gone, until you’re just a mindless dumper - loving every use I have for you. Blissfully serving your purpose. Fuck bruh, that’s gonna be so satisfying…for me.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. There was no way you would lose yourself, your identity. For your mind to be churned and disposed of like it was nothing. And yet the idea was shockingly appealing to your increasingly warped desires. A part of you understood that it wasn’t strange at all, that you were an ass and being used like that was your intended purpose. You were a thing of practicality. A tool. A hole.

And you needed to be emptied.

Brett interrupts your wandering thoughts with more self aggrandising. “But I know you’re a total gay. You probably would love to filled as well huh. You know, by like a big juicy cock or a dildo. Yeah?” Shamefully he was correct. “Well bro, I’ll let you in on a little secret, as long as you don’t tell anyone. Huhuh. But i’m actually bi. Kinda. At least, i’ve fucked a couple of guys before. And honestly they give better head, if you know what I mean.” There was some embarrassing hint of hope sparked by his admission. Maybe he could…play with you. Occasionally. Maybe.

Abruptly, you feel Brett’s fingers pull at your sides, rubbing your surface like some magic lamp. The touching was heavenly. It felt like your cock being treated to the best hand job imaginable. That’s if you still had a cock to call your own. He leans forward, giving his hand better access to you, his fingers now moving within your narrow line of sight - peering out between the two eclipsing spheres that were your cheeks. One finger seems to target your epicentre - your hole. Slowly and pointedly filling your view as it slides between the crack. The tip lightly grazes against your big empty hole, gently stretching the tightened skin around your pleasure centre. Every feeling of embarrassment and shame leaves you. Every thought and feeling other than the pleasure he could give you dissipates. Right now he was everything to you. You would do anything and everything to have him fill you. You would be the best fucking ass imaginable if only he broke that cherry. You would happily let out his toxic gas and be his waste disposal every single day if he would just let you have this one moment of satisfaction. His finger begins to push upon the seal, feeling your ‘mouth’ begin to forcibly open around his intrusion. And then it stopped.

“But i’m only a top.” Brett admits, breaking the news as if someone had died. His finger retracts and an all encompassing sense of emptiness fills your body. “But be a good butthole for me and who knows. Maybe i’ll find it in my heart to reward you. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe you’ll just have to witness me plowing some other tight ass instead.”

Great. At least his obsession with butts made a bit more sense now. And the idea of him fucking men in your presence was kinda strangely hot. Even if you could only hear and feel him piston in and out. Thrusting you back and forth. Enjoying his sex like some hopeless cuck.

“If it’s any consolation, this whole arrangement is not my idea. All the resident frats here are capable of enhancing themselves in such ways. Using their assigned roommate. Preds or whatever the fuck they call it. And you have the privilege of being my first…volunteer.” You hear him sigh in satisfaction, taking clear pleasure in his conquest over you. And you hated how small it made you feel. How horny your mind went at Brett's abrasive language.

Despite everything, his endless well of confidence was admittedly an attractive trait for you. That imaginary cock would be stiff as a board, if not for the fact you were now just a mound of flesh jutting from his hips.

“See, the frat has limited space and we can’t be seen as exclusionary. Fucking guidelines, you know? So we found a way to satisfy everyone, I get the room to myself, we preds adhere to the rules and you, you get to join the frat and be of appropriate use. Admittedly, most of the frat use their assigned gay to enhance their cock, but what can I say, i’m an assman. I want it fucking big. Pretty sweet deal, eh butt.” The exposition ‘dump’ didn't particularly help you come to accept your new form, particularly because of what said form would undoubtedly involve…

“Bro, I could get used to this power though.” He continues, while pulling a pair of Calvin boxer briefs up his legs. Brett snaps the waistband over your face and buries you in total darkness, suffocating you with the air of your own musky rear scent. Even still, you couldn’t deny the pleasure of the fabric brushing against your skin, digging into your tight crevice as he sits down and splays your girth like a cushion below him. “Ye broski, I could improve my body to be superior in every way. I have a taste for it now, screw those stupid frat rules. ‘Assigned gays only’ my ass.” Some adage about great power and responsibility enters your mind, but you don’t think Brett would fully get the point.

Brett moves again, carrying you in tow as he walks across the room to the door. From infront - or is that now behind, you hear muffled words. “Whatsup bro, how’s your gay working out? That idiot seemed completely oblivious.”

“Pretty good, he actually willingly ate me out, if you can believe it! Take a look.” Your swollen cheeks momentarily part, letting sunlight reach you for a second as your puckered lips stretch open and against your will let out the only noise you are now capable of.

Fbbbtt. You toot, like a sad trumpet. A subtle haze begins to settle upon your thoughts as the stench seeps out, deflating your mind like a balloon. You couldn’t even control yourself, it just happened without a second of consideration. Brett ultimately was in charge of how you would be used. It was hard to come to terms with what had just transpired, what had just left your - for lack of a better term, ‘mouth’. Farting for an audience was such a shameful act, and yet you had no say in it. Worse, you suspected this would be a common occurrence. That this was something you would…get used to.

“Hrhhh, nothing more manly than just fucking letting it all out. Hold on, he can do better.” Brett leans over and pushes you out. The other frat bro is looking down at you in anticipation. You feel that sensation coming on, like a burp rising in your chest, stronger than it was before. You can’t stop it. God, this was gonna su—

Bbbbbrrrrttttttttt! You proclaim, like a proud trombone. The hazy grip upon your physique intensifies. A bit of yourself dislodges from your mind, emptying out your mouth as noxious gas. Poking holes in your brain. Your thoughts filling the room and dissolving into nothing. Both jocks laugh uncontrollably above you. The rank smell settles in front of your face, overwhelming your senses - unable to stop yourself from inhaling his and, or, your farts. It was…satisfying? Like you had achieved some great feat. You were doing your job, fulfilling your purpose. You shouldn’t feel bad about that, should you? It’s just what a butt does. You secretly hoped he was proud of your performance. Darkness quickly takes over again as your cheeks clap back together.

“Nice brah. Butt gays are the best.” You felt weird at how brazenly they talked about you, like you didn’t matter at all. Butt gay, that was you. Coming to terms with that was perversely comforting. “Oh by the way, think your girl is waiting for you outside, dude, she’s wearing these tiny cut-off shorts for her Halloween costume. Tight as F.”

“Dayum. Just a minute. Got something to take care of first. Yeah. Bout to take this dump truck for a test drive, if you catch my drift. Been saving up so he can get a proper good load ready to go. Help loosen up his shit for brains, ready for emptying. That takeaway is his problem now.” You hear what sounded like a fist bump between the two braying jackasses.

“Fuck yeah bruh. Show him your superiority by loosening his pucker up haha!” The other jock shouts before slamming the door closed behind him. What intelligent conversations you can look forward to overhearing, you think, as Bretts underwear covers you back up.

Brett moves about in silence, something that was refreshing considering his long diatribe. That feeling didn’t last long. After a few minutes, the next thing you see is the water of a toilet bowl as your body hangs over it - lowering down upon the seat. You were about to be put to work. To be used. To be…useful to Brett. Suddenly your mind feels so heavy, so burdened. The insatiable need for relief frays the edges of your thoughts. Your intelligence, your personality, your sense of self - all loosening as Brett’s stomach tightens and unfurls

“Open wide, Shitbreath. This dumptruck is about to unload your useless fucking mind.” Brett grunts as you feel your mouth start to stretch apart.

Two weeks later:

“B—Brett. Uhh, how do I say this? Why is your butt so much bigger than it normally is?” You hear the high pitched voice of some guy Brett had invited over. You’re still a bit dazed from the big ‘job’ you had to handle for your owner this morning. Filled with that strange sense of contentment that seems to grow more by the day since becoming his perfect rear. Your mind becoming simpler and empty, enjoying the most basic of pleasures. And getting noticed by other guys only helped to heighten your sense of pride.

“Who knows, too much Halloween candy or some shit. Why, are you jealous? Just shut up and present that little tushy of yours for my fuckstick.”

“Jeez. Why you gotta be toxic like that man.”

“Because we both know it turns you on. Also you’re a dick guy.” With Brett’s nonexistent foreplay out of the way, you feel his hips begin to thrust back and forth. The moaning was clear confirmation of their ‘relationship’. You can do nothing but watch the room zoom in and out of focus as you piston forward and back. “Speaking of, I think my cock could do with some enhancing. Don’t you agree?”

“Ugh, I mean sure. I have no complaints tho—“

“I wasn’t talking to you, future fuckstick. Let’s get you finished quickly so I can cum those pretty boy brains out. Then I need to take a piss with my new cock. You’re gonna be as thick as a fucking paint can.”

Shit, you think, that guy was gonna be so lucky to become just another part of Brett. Unconsciously parting your cheeks, you let out a loud, mind numbing fart while your owner climaxes with his new improved tool.