#muscletheft

"Come in!" His bass rumble carried through the door. He turns from the bookshelf, and that same white button-down from the start of semester fits very differently now.

"Your partner couldn't make it again?" he asks, adjusting his glasses.

"Chase texted. Still feeling drained." I close the door. "Third meeting he's missed."

Professor Mitchell frowns. "Poor kid. He was so energetic in September. Must have caught something." He gestures for me to sit. "Let me see the progress report."

I flip open the journal. Our "Biomass Redistribution Study" laid out in charts. Subject A declining, Subject B increasing.

"Fascinating," he murmurs, leaning close. "Subject B continues absorbing resources from Subject A. The passive transfer rate is remarkable."

"Yeah," I say carefully. "I theorize that it will keep accelerating until A has nothing left to offer."

He nods, tracing the projection chart. Week Ten shows completion—Subject A at 5'0", 110lbs; Subject B at 7'2", 300lbs.

"You know," he says, stretching, "I've always been lucky with my build. Never worked for it—just genetics. But this Subject B? Should be a monster by week ten."

"Right. Just... lucky genetics."

"Ha ha should be interesting seeing him next to Chase though, that kid was a beast when I last saw him, hope he starts feeling better soon."

I stand, moving beside him. "Yeah, I'm sure it will be interesting comparing them side by side when he recovers from his *shrinking* bug he has caught."

His chest casts a shadow over me, his face obscured behind straining fabric. His tie nestled deep between the globes.

"Will Chase make the final session?" He stumbles back against his desk. Even sitting, he's taller than me.

"I'll make sure he's there." My hand settles on his chest. "He needs to be present for the final measurements."

His breath catches. "Good. I'd hate for him to miss the conclusion—"

I pull his tie, guiding his back to the bookshelf. My other hand plants on his crotch for support. Something substantial and weighty beneath my palm. He groans as it pulses through the slacks. "Sorry," I say. "Your tie was bothering me."

"Oughhh…" He stiffens fully under my grip before catching himself. "Ahem—no apologies needed. Thank you for the… touch up."

"No problem," I whisper. "We'll hold the final session Thursday. We'll complete the project then."

I step back. He's flushed, breathing hard, glasses askew.

"Thursday," he echoes.

"Get a hold of yourself Mitch..." I can hear him mutter as I pack up. Meaty fingers trying to hide a pipe down his leg. "So damn sensitive lately. Swear it's bigger every day."

I smile as I step into the hallway before noticing a poster. Chase #12 in all his former glory—6'4", 245lbs of quarterback perfection.

One more session. Then Professor Mitchell will have everything Chase ever was and more.

Chase will barely have strength to walk into this office.

But he will. I'll make sure of it.

Another old one-page image and muscle story I found in my archives. Sometimes dark stories are the best....

My neighbor, Michael has been one of my best friends since what feels like forever. We did everything together. As we got older, we promised each other to get fit and buff. Eventually we started going to the gym more often and bulking in food.

But no matter how hard I tried, I was not getting any bigger. I gymmed harder and ate protein powder everyday, trying to catch up to Michael and his level of standard. But to no avail did anything worked. Every day, people would always notice Michael and his amazing adonis bod. They complimented his confidence and room presence. It must feel so great to be an alpha male and command that kind of attention.

One morning, I awoke to find a strange package on my doorstep that had a strange label on it. It was in a symbol language I knew I did not understand, but deep down I understood what it said.

'Never get too comfortable with the ways things seem to be. Everything can and will be changed overnight if you want it to be.'

I knew what had to be done.

That night Michael came over for what he thought was going to be a horror movie marathon. He arrived wearing jeans and a tank top. He was kind to me even though he always loved showing off his body. Michael knew I had a crush on him which he took advantage of. It made him feel so good as an alpha!

Not long later, we started our planned movie marathon, while enjoying a few glasses of alcohol. Horror movies are always better when you are high. I watered mine down so I didn't get drunk. I encouraged him to chill and drink more. He went for it, knowing I will definitely take care of him. The night went on and I managed to carry his hunky body to my room.

I opened the strange package, and there it was. Some sort of suction device and storage with two switches, SUCK and PUMP. I somehow understood what it meant.

Michael was out like a rock. Sturdy and unconscious. I slowly stripped off his clothes, and let my fingers wander around the crevices of his abs. I made my way up to his chest and felt his nipples getting hard. Circling around them, I pinched one, Michael spasmed with pleasure. I took off his pants and saw the massive tool he had. I knew he was big, I did not know it was this impressive. Boy, am I going to take care of him. I rubbed his tip and stroked his shaft, increasing in speed. I could tell Michael had not released for a few days as the slightest touch made him close. A few more strokes, and his balls was tightening up. I knew it was time. I placed the suction end on his 10 incher and switched it on SUCK. The pressure was strong causing Michael to climax. His moans were deep and strong. I could sit there the whole night just listening to his alpha mating sounds. The suction was absorbing everything; his height, feet size, muscles and cock size were deflating, leaving with a device filled with pure Michael-Alpha DNA.

I removed it off his now 5 incher and licked off the the residual DNA. My body jolted as Michael's sweet alpha juice pumped up my body. Imagine how a drop could be so powerful. What a whole device of his pure muscle and alphaness can do to me.

I couldn't wait any longer. I was already hard from the immense pleasure I got from the residual. I placed the suction device on my bare 6 incher, took a deep breath and switched it onto PUMP.

I started screaming in pain as all of his DNA and manhood pumped into me via my shaft. I felt levels of pleasure and pain simultaneously. It felt warm and comfortable. I fell onto Michael's drunk self, moaning away as my body started to change. My muscles were pumping out everywhere, with each pop, my muscles got real tight and hard. My feet grew from a size 9 to a size 11.5. I grew slightly taller by 4 inches. My cock was growing in size and girth to almost 12 inches long. It was an amazing feeling to gain such confidence and alpha manhood. I feel powerful, like I can do anything. My muscles were twitching with energy and cock was oozing with enthusiasm. The boost in testosterone caused my voice to get deeper and sexier.

I stood up like an Alpha God and flexed. These muscles were perfect; biceps bigger than my face, chiselled six pack, defined muscle all around, and my grand family treasures! Feeling confident, I started to think more like an alpha and all the things I can do to show off my body! I stumbled towards the nearest mirror I could find. This body was so big, I almost lost balance. I proceeded to spam my phone with new selfies. This life is going to be sickkk!

It's going to be morning soon, Michael is going to wake up and see the new me. I shall flex for him and show off what he once had. I kinda feel bad for him as he is still my best friend. Maybe I can figure something out for him too since I still have the suction device.

I can't wait to show off my pumped up alpha status at the gym later! Gawd, I feel like I'm on top of the world. Haters gonna hate. Potatoes gonna potate.

Panel one shows the captive muscle hunk and the captor Twink.

Panel two shows the total removal of manhood from the captive, body hair, muscle mass, cock and ball size are totally drained from their respective locations and are stored in the stomach of the captive. The stomach bloats with the contents, humiliating the captive, who has been muscular for so long, and has been reduced to a fat ass.

Panel three demonstrates the twinks removal of the attributes from the captive, leaving him an emasculated frail and skinny Twink.

Whenever he stepped in the gym though, a small group of jocks mocked Gibby for his weight. They tormented him, telling him to walk back to the McDonald's where he came from and leave the weight lifting for the pros. Gibby always went to the showers crying because of the jocks hurtful words.

One of the trainers, Chris, always observed Gibby and his tormentors. Chris hated bullies, he would have told the jocks to stop the bullying but he had an idea. Chris' family was 4th generation wizards. He could make a spell that could both help Gibby and teach those jocks a lesson.

Chris went home and dug up an old book from his grandparents room. He flipped the pages and stopped at a page that said one thing in English - "Bod transo"

The next day Chris saw Gibby on the treadmill walking at the slowest speed. The jocks walked in and made a mean comment about Gibby walking in the gym when he should be walking to his next meal. Gibby looked sad yet again and stopped his workout and rushed to the showers. Chris then took out a piece of paper with the spell on it and recited it word for word.

He pointed at the jocks and then to Gibby before he got out of Chris' sight. The lights of the gym flickered for a second and the jocks looked up and them went with their workout right after.

As time passed on, the jocks started to complain to each other. They spoke to each other asking if they looked smaller than usual. One even asked if his beard was thinning out, which it was. The jocks stopped using the large weights and went to the lightest ones that the gym had. Chris assumed that the spell had half worked and went to the bathroom to check on Gibby.

Chris knocked on the door and opened it calling out Gibby. But as soon as Chris opened the door, he saw that the spell fully worked.

Gibby had taken all of the jocks best qualities. Gibby now stood way past 6 feet, his head almost grazing the shower head. He had also grown a dark beard on his now sharp jawline and sported some nice curls on his chest.