#butt transformation

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.

Ever since joining the Haltmann Works Company, you've been vying for the president's attention. After all this time, you've been invited to join a secret project! But what does Susie have in mind for you?