Mostly Reblogs

Samuel was the happiest he had been in years. He had moved into his dream home, got a promotion and he had recently proposed to his soon-to-be wife, Jessica. All of Samuel’s hard work was finally being rewarded. The future seemed bright. He was ready to settle down with his new wife and become a loving father. It was a true happily ever after... that was until the doorbell rang

DING DONG

Samuel was making dinner for his beloved fiancé when the doorbell rang. Samuel couldn’t help but smile. It’s probably Jessica, he thought to himself. He bounced his way over to the door and opened the front door expecting to see his fiancé. But Samuel opened the door to be greeted by a big hulking stranger.

“Hey” the man smiled. “Is this Jessica’s house?”

“Um... yeah, she’s out at the moment. Is there anything I can do for you?” Samuel was suspicious.

The man pushed by Samuel and charged into his house.

“Um, excuse me!” Samuel yelled at the man. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Samuel ran after the man who was now exploring his house. Who did this man think he was? Barging into someone’s house like this. Samuel grabbed the man’s shoulder only for the man to turn around swiftly. The man softly held the back of Samuel’s neck. He then took his finger and pressed it against Samuel’s forehead and let out the heavy powerful word:

SLEEP

The word knocked Samuel out. Samuel stumbled into the strangers arms, falling into a deep sleep.

The next thing Samuel knew, he woke up lying on his bed. Had it all been a dream? Did that actually happen? Suddenly, Samuel heard heavy footsteps coming from the bathroom. A big hulking man strode out. The same hulking man that had barged into his house. This wasn’t a dream. This was actually happening.

Samuel jumped up from his bed only to realise that he was naked. He grabbed the sheets covering his 7 inch penis. Why had the man stripped him out of his clothes? What had happened?

“You see Samuel... me and Jessica were highschool sweethearts. We were a happy couple... until you came along” he said resentfully.

“But I’m not going to let you take her away from me” The man growled. Samuel coward in fear. “I need you out of the way... and I think I’ve got the perfect solution for that”

GET ON YOUR HANDS AND KNEES LIKE A GOOD BITCH

The man’s words digged deep into Samuel’s subconscious. Embedding itself deep inside his mind. His words were powerful. They were everything. It felt so good to just give into the man’s words. It felt so... right.

The man motioned to the bed. Samuel’s body disobeyed Samuel’s mind. His body complied to the man’s commands. Samuel walked to the intruder. He stared him directly in the eyes as he crawled onto the bed in the doggy style position.

FUCKTOYS DONT HAVE A GAG REFLEX

Samuel had no time to react. The big man took his three fat fingers and forced them down Samuel’s throat. His fingers violating his mouth. His fingers diving deep down his throat. Normally, he would have started gagging. Started coughing. But Samuel’s throat took the fingers with ease. It accepted them. It was almost as if Samuel’s throat was used to it. As if it loved having fingers stuffed down it.

The man grinned. His fingers stuffed down Jessica’s fiancé’s throat. The man slowly slipped his fingers out of Samuel’s throat. Samuel gasped for air. He threw himself back on the bed. Disgusted by what he had just done. Ashamed. His fiancé would be disgusted. Would she ever forgive him?

“Now, Samuel. Let’s start the transformation, shall we” He grinned. “Do you want me to transform you into a fucktoy?”

Samuel tried to resist. But he couldn’t help it. His head started nodding. Samuel tried to stop it but he couldn’t. It just felt so good to give into Master.

“Jess dumped me because I wasn’t ‘masculine’ enough. Well let’s change that”

OPEN YOUR MOUTH. LET ME FUCK THAT MASCULINITY OUT OF YOU

The hulking man jumped onto the bed and jammed his under average sized cock into Samuel’s straight mouth. He started forcefully face fucking Samuel. Samuel had no choice but to just let his throat get savagely fucked.

With each thrust, Master’s cock went deeper down Samuel’s throat. It was almost as if... it was growing. It went from a 4 inches, to 6 inches, to 8 inches, to a full 12 inch cock. It inflated becoming thicker and thicker. It forced Samuel’s mouth open wider and wider until he couldn’t take it anymore. It was filling the entirety of Samuel’s mouth. With one big grunt, Master forced his cock as deep as he could go, holding it there. Letting his cock rest in Samuel’s fuckable throat.

Master took his 12 inch cock out of Samuel’s throat. Samuel began gasping for air only to notice something... missing. He noticed that he couldn’t feel his penis resting by his leg anymore. He looked down in horror. His penis was nothing but a nub now. Just a tiny 1 inch nub. The stranger had stolen Samuel’s cock. Samuel then saw his ballsack begin to shrink. It deinflated. Growing smaller and smaller. Samuel then glanced up to see Master grunting. Master’s balls were growing. Inflating. Getting heavier. Fuller. Alpha sperm filling his balls. It drooped with the weight of it.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about” Master laughed looking at his new massive ballsack.

“These alpha balls are gonna get emptied into your fiancé tonight, Sammy boi. I’m gonna fill your fiancés pussy with my alpha sperm. I’m gonna impregnate her. And Jess and I are gonna raise those kids together”

Sammy began tearing up. Master saw the tears welling up in Sammy’s eyes.

“How about I reward you, huh? You’ve been a very good boy so far. Good boys get rewarded”

GROW BIG HIMBO BOI

Sammy began to inflate by hearing those very words. He began to inflate like some kind of sex doll. It was like his body was a balloon and Master was blowing air into it. His biceps grew big and muscular. His hands became thick and meaty. His fingers like fat sausages. His face became more boyish looking. Almost as if he was getting younger. The 32 year old slowly regressed into a 19 year old teenager. A teenager that spent all his time in the gym. His mind began emptying. His memories of working hard and running a business faded away. They were replaced by memories of downing protein shakes, working out and dropping out of highschool. Sammy couldn’t even read anymore. He couldn’t write. He could barely think. All education was erased from his mind.

“Eh, you still look too... masculine. I know how to fix that” he deviously grinned.

THOSE IMPLANTS MUST HAVE COST YOU A FORTUNE

Suddenly, Sammy’s chest began to inflate. His two pecs began to grow big and heavy. Master sat down beside Sammy and began to playfully finger the space in between his pecs. His pecs grew and grew. Until eventually Sammy’s new tits enveloped Master’s finger. But there was something off about Sammy’s new pecs. They didn’t feel real. They were implants. Implants that made him look like some fake sex doll. A fake sex doll with big fat tits for men to tittyfuck.

Sammy’s face began to change. His face becoming more... fake looking. Sammy’s small lips plumped up. They grew into beautiful plump pillows. Pillows that looked so inviting. They looked like they were begging to be wrapped around a big fat cock.

Sam giggled. He looked like the biggest, most dumbest slut alive. He looked like a human sex doll. A sex doll that was ripe for the fucking. It’s only purpose was to be fucked and came into.

But the implants didn’t stop there. Sammy felt his ass begin to inflate into the size of two big beach balls. His ass becoming comically large. Big and fat. The implants made his ass look so big and extremely fuckable. It was built for fucking. It’s purpose was to be fucked. To be bred by alphas. Master clicked his fingers and suddenly the most feminine gay clothes materialised on Sammy.

“That’s a good fucktoy”

“I so horny, Master. I need to fuck Jessica so badly” Sammy moaned through his new filled lips. His ass bouncing with every movement. His tits on full display.

“Tut tut tut. You’re still straight? After all that? We have to fix that, don’t we... fucktoy” Master said condescendingly.

Sammy’s mind began to get filled with images of cock and cum. Images of getting his big fake ass stuffed full of cum filled his head. Thoughts of getting tittyfucked by daddies were buried inside his mind. The more he thought about it, the harder his one inch cock became. He began absentmindedly rubbing his nub.

“Don’t bother with that, boi. The only way you can cum now, is through this up here” Master smacked Sammy’s ass and forcefully stuck his finger up Sammy’s loose hole. Master began ramming his fingers against Sammy’s prostate. Sammy femininely squealed and moaned.

“UGH, FUCK MY PUSSY DADDY” Sammy screamed pushing himself against Master’s fingers.

Sammy pushed harder and harder until OHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKK. Cum shot everywhere out of Sammy’s small nub. Thin weak sperm squirting everywhere. It was nothing compared to Master’s alpha sperm. Sammy was never going to be getting anyone pregnant. His sperm was weak. It only exists to be fucked out of him. It exists to be wiped up with a tissue and thrown into a bin.

Sammy stood up still shaking from his intense orgasm. His lips plump. His ass shaking. His tits bouncing. He looked like the most perfect sex toy.

“Honey, I’m home” a voice called from downstairs. Jessica made her way to the bedroom.

“Babe!” Jessica screamed excitedly. She ran over to the stranger and gave him the most passionate kiss. “I missed you. I’ve been thinking about you all day”

The old Samuel was screaming inside his own mind after seeing his fiancé kiss the man who had transformed him into this himbo monster.

Jessica looked at Sammy. “How’s my gay best friend doing?” She smiled excitedly.

“I’m, like, totally doing amazing sweetie. I’m like totally gonna get my pussy fucked by some big dom on Grindr tonight” Sammy smacked his big fat ass. It jiggled hypnotically.

Sammy made his way out of the house. The house now belonged to the stranger. The stranger took his cock. His masculinity. His house. His fiancé. He took... Sammy’s entire life.

Sammy is now nothing but a mindless sex doll. Filled with implants and cum. No reading. No thinking. All Sammy does is get fucked and serve his Masters.

“Wait Sammy, before you leave...” The man called to Sammy right before he left.

“You’re coming to me and Jess’ wedding, right?”

“Totally, like, I wouldn’t miss it for the world hehehe” Sammy dumbly giggled as his fake ass jiggled behind him.

The old Samuel was trapped inside his own mind. Completely disconnected from his body. Crying. Screaming. Helplessly watching the man and Sammy’s fiancé live happily ever after... while all Sammy can do is get his new fake ass stuffed full on cum by dom daddies on Grindr.

Hey everyone! Putting together a winter weather series I think. Here is the second out of the three total I have planned. The first can be found here: The Snow Storm. Hope you enjoy!

"You for real, boy?"

Jake's smile faltered as his fiance's voice cut through the frigid winter air. There were a lot of things that Jake loved about Lindsey. There were a lot of things Jake loved about Lindsey's family. But her father? Greg? That was a whole other story. And Jake couldn't really understand it. Jake took care of his body, had a good job, went to church, and loved Lindsey with every ounce of his being. But Greg never warmed up to him, never seemed to like him all too much.

"What do you mean, Mr. Anderson?" Jake's smile returned as he tried his best to be polite.

"My daughter sends you over to help shovel and you're sittin' hear shiverin' like a little bitch." Greg scoffed.

"I run cold at baseline." Jake replied quickly, "And it's freezing out here."

"Aww, poor little Jakey is cold." Greg mocked, "This ain't nothin'."

Jake frowned. Despite the frigid temperature, his soon to be father-in-law was shirtless, kept warm by a thick pelt of manly chest hair. Despite his age, he was built- one of the only things Jake hoped he could emulate when he got to Greg's age. But that was about the only thing he wished to emulate about the man before him.

"Yeah, but..."

"Here, take this hat and shut up, boy." Greg smirked, shoving his warm winter hat into Jake's hands, "This'll do you better than whatever it is you've got on your head."

"Uh, th-thank you."

"But no more bitching, alright?"

Jake nodded and exchanged his hat for his soon to be father-in-law's. Mr. Anderson was right- he certainly felt warmer. Well at least his ears and head did. Jake smiled- Mr. Anderson was tough but maybe he was warming up to him. But as they continued to trek through the snowy landscape of Mr. Anderson's massive property, Jake was growing more concerned.

"Maybe we should head indoors" Jake said, trudging further behind the man, "The snow is starting to come down harder. We should wait..."

"Who raised you? Gotta shovel while it's comin' down." Greg replied, his voice sounding more distant, "Come on boy, try to keep up!"

Jake could barely see a few steps in front of him as the blizzard intensified, "Mr. Anderson, I can't... what the fuck?" Jake watched as the snow clung to his legs, accumulating rapidly, "Fuck... I can't move... Come on!" He tried desperately to move his legs, but the snow packed on at an alarming rate, "Mr. Anderson! Somethings wrong! We need to get inside!"

Greg's laughter echoed from somewhere ahead, distorted by the blizzard. "Quit your bellyachin', boy! You'll be nice and warm soon enough!"

Jake could barely see Mr. Anderson in front of him anymore. But that wasn't what worried him. It was the snow. He felt his arms grow heavy as it stuck to them, forcing him to drop his shovel as his arms fell to his side. Jake's movements grew sluggish as the weight of the snow hindered his limbs. Panic began to set in as he realized the severity of his predicament.

"Help! Mr. Anderson!" Jake managed to choke out, his words muffled as the snow covered his face, "Please..." But it was too late- he was covered entirely.

Inside the snowy cocoon, Jake's mind raced with fear and confusion. Why wasn't Mr. Anderson helping him? Where was he? Why did it feel like the snow was right against his skin and not the layers of clothing he had on?

Jake shivered violently within his icy prison, the cold seeping deep into his bones. His teeth chattered uncontrollably as he tried desperately to conserve body heat. Fractured thoughts flitted through his numbing mind:

"F-fuck, it's so c-cold…" Jake mumbled to himself, his speech slurred, "I-I can't feel my t-toes… or my fingers…"

He struggled against the snow enveloping him, but his efforts proved useless. The frigid white powder had totally encased him. Fear crept in as strange sensations tingled across his skin and muscles. Was this what hypothermia felt like?

"No no n-no, th-this can't be h-happening..."

And as the bitter cold consumed Jake, a fleeting thought crossed his mind. He imagined the comforting heat radiating off Mr. Anderson's muscular, hair-covered body.

"He's so warm..." Jake thought deliriously, "His big s-strong body… so much h-hair… I bet he'd k-keep me warm in th-those arms…" Jake recoiled mentally at the foreign desire, "Wh-what the fuck am I thinking?" Jake protested weakly, even as he longed for that masculine embrace, "Fuck, fuck, fuck... what's this cold doing to me?"

A sudden rush of warmth flooded Jake's body, causing the snow around him to begin melting rapidly. As the icy layer receded from his head, Jake gasped in shock. Bristly hairs tickled his cheeks and chin - a full, coarse beard now adorned his previously smooth face.

"What the hell?" Jake mumbled, not used to the tickling sensation from his newly sprouted facial hair.

Jake's arms burst free from their snowy confines next, revealing bulging muscles that made his jaw drop. Thick biceps and triceps rippled as he tensed his arms. His newly meaty forearms bore intricate, yet all too familiar, tattoos - the same ones he'd seen on Mr. Anderson countless times.

"Holy shit…" Jake breathed, running a calloused hand over the unfamiliar facial hair coating his cheeks and chin. He marveled at the texture, so different from his usual baby-smooth skin, "Oh my god what the fuck happened to me?" He nearly yelped when he ran his hand over his now completely bald head, "I'm bald?!" He recoiled at the sound of his more gravely voice, "No, no, no… this can't be real…"

But Jake's attention quickly turned to the melting snow along his torso. And as is melted away, Jake's eyes widened in shock. A thick, matted pelt of dark hair blanketed his broad chest and abdomen. Intricate tattoos swirled across his abdomen- now a hard, defined slab of muscle and fat, all blanketed in manly hairs.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck…" Jake chanted under his breath, his eyes wide with dawning horror as the terrifying realization crashed over him. "There's no way this is happening. There's no way I'm…"

He was cut off mid-sentence as the last of the snow melted away, exposing Jake's lower half. He looked down and nearly screamed. There, swinging heavily between his muscular thighs, was a massive, throbbing cock - an exact replica of Mr. Anderson's own impressive endowment. Jake's balls hung low and full, churning with unfamiliar heat.

"This can't be real... How is this even..." Jake cried out, tears of panic and revulsion streaming down his face. He tried to cover his cock with his large calloused hands, "This doesn't even make sense! I'm not…"

"Well well well, what do we have here?" Jake nearly jumped as Mr. Anderson clapped him on the shoulder, his hand lingering perhaps a moment too long, "Looks like the cold ain't botherin' you much anymore, eh boy?"

Jake shuddered at the touch and felt his massive cock twitch and start to swell as he gazed upon Mr. Anderson's naked upper body.

"I… I don't know what's happening to me," Jake said, his voice now a deep, resonant baritone, "I'm you... I'm..." He stared at Greg, drinking in the sight of the older man's physique, "I'm so warm..." A strange sense of admiration and self-absorption started to creep into his mind.

Mr. Anderson smirked, noticing Jake's wandering gaze and growing arousal, "Maybe we should take this inside." He leaned in closely, "And I can show you what this ol' body of mine can do."

Even as the last shreds of his former identity screamed in protest, Jake found himself nodding in agreement, his new cock throbbing almost painfully with desire.

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." Jake said, his voice dripping with newfound confidence and a hint of arrogance that was so distinctly Greg. He stepped closer, invading the older man's personal space, "The hat did this, right?"

Jake ran a hand down Greg's torso, marveling at the feeling of the coarse hair and firm muscle beneath his fingertips. He met Greg's gaze and in that moment Greg knew- all traces of Jake's shy, respectful demeanor gone, replaced by a raw, animalistic hunger.

"I suppose so." Greg's breath hitched as Jake's hand made it's way down his pants and around his own swelling cock, "Fuck... shoulda done this to you sooner, boy." He reached around and grabbed a handful of Jake's muscular ass.

"Gotta make up for lost time then." Jake moaned.

And as the two identical men entered the house, with Jake now fully embodying the essence of Greg Anderson, he knew one thing for certain - he never wanted to be anyone else again. The power, the masculinity, the raw sexual energy coursing through his new form was intoxicating. Any remaining flicker of his old self was snuffed out, consumed by the burning desire to revel in these feelings forever. With a wicked grin, he pulled Greg into a frenzied kiss, the two passionately sealing his fate and his new identity... forever.

Commission Story post!! if anyone wants any sort of TF I am opening my slots all up due to my current situation <3 All are welcome!!

Twitch streaming was not for the faint of heart, most people had their own assumptions about the profession, hobby, job whatever you wanted to call it. Everyone had an opinion and most of the time everyone had a different experience that proved one of them right. Twitch was not a dating app, but damn did people use it like one. Twitch was so much easier than doing a normal nine to five retail job, and there's no argument there that it didn’t come with a lot of benefits. But twitch also had a massive parasocial problem, people believing they truly knew about a person and what they went through beyond the stream. Twitch had a massive privacy and protection issue when it came to its site and streamers.

All of these things coagulated together to create an interesting and new problem, parasocial, horny hackers and chatters who had whole concepts and ideas on who people should be. And how their ideas would make that streamer's life so much easier. It really was just a rumor, something spread on reddit forums about certain streamers getting a raid from some streamer and their chats exploding with messages. Those messages change streamers into parodies, caricatures and horny gay versions of themselves. It was frightening especially for the straight male population of twitch streamers.

Really it was just a rumor right? It's absurd that a hacker could actually transform someone into a slutty. Horny gay version of themselves. Magic wasn’t real and the worst thing the hacker could do was find out the streamers info and leak it. That is devastating, horrible and cruel, its led to many tragedies but it never removed someone’s autonomy. So Those pussies could suck a fat one for all our protagonist cared about.

RunBxnny (Known as Alex to his friends) is a pretty tame fps streamer, not like the other “alpha male”, misogynist red pilled homophobes. At least not publicly, he had managed to keep a clean positive image of just being a bro to everyone. Encouraging community and team building with members whether it was his open lobbies, community days or those two times he did a charity stream. People loved him and that was better then almost any real life currency because love and attention brought not just money in but other perks including longevity. It paid very well to be kind in the long run.

He was also classically handsome, attracting both women and gay men as his main audience. Sure, was that the main reason he kept a clean image, well yeah shitting where you eat is a terrible idea, so what if he had to fake being genuine and sweet if it got him what he wanted. The gays and girls and whatever could afford his love and support and all he’d have to do is throw them a bone, why not? Fags loved when he wore tanks, and girls loved his good girls and asking them questions. It was so fuckin easy anyone could do it. He didn’t understand why people went so quick for the scumbag, rage baiter troll routine, it attracted more than just the physically ugly, all those guys were WASHED.

So when RunBxnny opened up obs to stream some sort of shooter he was not all surprised to see his offline notifs had popped off, posting a shirtless selfie on Instagram before going live always got bitches horny. Fresh from a  workout, slightly hard at the thought of the attention he was going to get he got stream booted up. His cock stretching his boxer briefs and making the jeans he was wearing just slightly distended.

The chat slowly filtered in, and slow for RunBxnny was about fifty people at a time, his chatters entering immediately saying hi to each other before spamming emotes. Waves of rainbow flags, heart emojis and thirsty gifs he had his artists shrink filled chat, emboldening his ego. Creating this space was the biggest tool he had at his disposal for feeding it and it wouldn’t go hungry any time soon, he just had to be smart. 

“YOOOOOO chat whats up whats happening its RunBxnny here for the good vibes!” He quickly hit the stream decks transition button switching to his glowing smile. His deeper register picked up perfectly on the mic as he greeted chatter after chatter. Everyone wanted to say hi and who was he to complain, it kept their attention and at the end of the day thats what he really wanted wasn’t it?

It’s why when a bunch of new chatters typed their hellos’ and greetings RunBxnny didn’t even flinch. His normal chatters like SaragamesHard, TaronEatsDown, CallofSnoopy and some gayr names were quickly overwhelmed by a swarm of new people. RunBxnny was a good streamer so he made time for it.

“Hey CallmeDaddy nice to meet you, BottomMakr welcome on in! Hey good to meet you CoachStyle, Hey Dommerpog hyped to meet you guys, damn we have a lot of new people today.” the names were a lot more sexual then he was used to, he could have sworn he saw one about jockstraps in there but a viewer was a viewer and he’d get his ad revenue. As long as they didn't harass anyone or make him uncomfortable the mods would handle the majority of the caroling of the masses. He did a quick little subtle flex, his pecs popping under the fabric of his cotton blend shirt, his biceps bulging, giving the viewers something to stare at as he got ready. He already knew some of these bitches were clip farming him for their fan pages.

“Today guys its good to see all of you, as you know on wednesdays we do community day on cod, so you guys are welcome to que up and we can squad some versus matches!” his voice was even making sure to be confident, everything was perfectly manicured, he had to appeal to everyone not just one group. He already saw ten people que up immediately. Chat was moving faster and as it moved faster he missed a few messages,, hell his mods missed them.

CallMeDaddy: Damn someones looking beefy today, can only imagine what that looks like out and the open.

BottomMakr: God it would be so much better if he got up and showed off that ass of his so I could see what we were working with.

CoachStyle: patience boy seems like we found a good candidate no matter what for the raid

CallMeDaddy: Abso-fucking-lutely can’t wait to transform this twerp.

DommerPog: i’ll use my points, call dibs on the first change bitches.

BottomMakr: I won't complain about that.

The matches were starting, and a few subs had been sent his way, Alex was honestly on a high. A good start to a stream does that. It doesn’t just give you confidence or boost you through the algorithm, it also makes you very very very blind to your problems and arrogant. It lowers the guard many build in order to protect themselves from any upcoming threats, and when something does happen, when there is a problem that occurs it rocks their world. It brings instability and all that really gets left behind is the feeling that something, anything would be better than this. It’s not like Alex was alone, he had his father home, being a famous streamer and living with your family had many benefits and one was having a calm figure in your life you could go to in dire situations where leveled heads would succeed.

“Okay two guys on me, on me yeah, their coming on me, their in, I feel it… Sara thanks for the good Girl FUCK WELCOME IN RAIDERS!!” Notifications start flashing on his screen, between redeems popping up, to the game he’s playing suggestive lingo, its easy to miss who the raiders are at first. Even the mods scramble as a raid of a hundred or so people pile in, the scene transitioning and raid music playing. Mods shouting out the raider as RunBxnny scrolls through the same spammed, odd raid message to see who sent him such a lovely, but soon to be cursed gift..

“🌀🌀🌀TIME FOR CHANGE🌀🌀🌀” Spammed by atleast half of chat as our hero (victim) finally finds the user he was looking for. Eyes taking on a ghostly blue sheen as something raided more then just his chat, but also his soul as the plan began taking root.

“Hey Raiders!! Great to meet you KoKStrapChanges, funny name!! Welcome on in to my corner of the internet great to have you here, make sure to drink some water, eat some food and if you have to raid and run thats completely understandable I’ll take ***Leans into the mic, lowering his voice just a tad* Goood care of your community, for all of you guys staying, make sure to read chat’s rules, be kind and lets have some fun!! What were you guys playing?” He ran through the whole thing so fast, so rehearsed like it was second nature. Sure the name was odd, definitely gay, Alex had definitely seen that name somewhere but not in his own chat, he pulled up discord and told his head mod to look into it while he chatted. His regulars had been drowned out by all the newcomers, almost like they’d been blocked from getting in the way.

KoKStrapChanges: Thanks so much for welcoming us in, we were just playing my favorite game, and now you get to be a part of it.

“What, what do you mean a part of it? That's really weird dude!” His mod sends a message of discord that something is wrong, that they can’t access mod mode, and that KoKStrapChanges is apparently a known hacker. This rings so many alarm bells, a raid that size was normal for him at this point and if it hadn’t been his mod saying it he wouldn’t have taken it seriously but it was the perfect storm of info given.

Worried about what’s getting ready to happen he clicks over to his obs screen getting ready to leave when the raiders start chiming in, and the game begins.

CallMeDaddy: Oh God I love when we get to raid!! This is gonna be so much fun

BottomMakr:  MMM he’s even cuter when he’s nervous, can’t wait to see him beg

CoachStyle: He’s gonna be such a good boy for us.

CallMeDaddy: Not just a good boy, he is going to be the best, begging for all of us to be his daddy by the end of it. Dommer You get first change!

DommerPog: First up, Everytime RunBxnny tries to close stream he’s going to gain five pounds of muscles and experience a wave of euphoria so strong he has to lay back in his chair panting and moaning instead

KoKStrapChanges: Oh that' s such a good Idea! DONE

The screen flashes and as Alex tries to close out and escape a PULSE rushes through his body and it feels like it was set on fire. Each muscle bulging slightly as he gains a slight pump, his voice leaving his throat in pants and moans. His perfectly fitted shirt and pants strain, seams starting to fray as he filled out further

“Fuck, fuck whats.. No no you guys, you guys are those gay raiders!” His voice was breathless, moaning in panic as he couldn’t help but try the same thing again in vain. His hand reaches for the mouse, and as it does, a jolt of pleasure and a PULSE of change rushing through him. He feels it center on his chest, his pecs becoming disproportionate to the rest of himself as he grabs both newly forming muscle tits. Groping and feeling himself up as more pleasure rushes through him, pillowey pecs pushing his shirt to its limits, the hem rising exposing a defined v-line and the beginnings of his abs. Chat went crazy as he squeezed them before regaining his senses, cock pulsing and throbbing underneath his pants, leaking precum.

His ass starts to inflate, muscle and fat growing on his rear as it bubbles out, lifting him slightly higher in his gamer chair, his thighs thickening as he feels them forced apart further to leave room for his junk to breathe. His calves carve themselves freely to that of diamonds. His feet flopping free of socks and elongating, toes thickening. Muffled groans and moans from his lips echo aropund the room as they get louder. Thank god they can’t see my lower half he thinks as he reaches for the mouse again, not learning his lesson.

It PULSES through him again, chest inflating, shoulders broadening, back becoming more defined. His shirt starting to rip and tear at the seams. His pants which were loose sweats look more like leggings as his ass gets fatter and his thighs look like they could crush watermelons and heads. His moans, groans are now followed by pants and pleading for help.

“How… How are you.. How is this possible? What are you doin to me?!” He breathily asks as looks up at the screen, testosterone rushing through his body now, neck and Adam's apple thicker as his voice deepens. He has learned his lesson to avoid the mouse, trying to think his way through this, maybe he could pull the power supply, that was a good idea he would just have to wait this out, wait for a moment to do it.

CallMeDaddy: Don’t worry that pretty, STUPID head of yours slut.

BottomMakr:  Fuck yeah make him a big dumb, slutty himbo. Begging for cock.

CoachStyle: That would make him such a good boy, a good boy begging for praise with his big muscles and fat ass. Maybe make him more of a dumb jock overall.

CallMeDaddy: I can get behind that, make him dumb, slutty, himbo jock begging for cock, thats your change  Coach?

CoachStyle: A wrestling jock but yes, pleasseeeee @KokStrapChanges 

KoKStrapChanges: Fuck yes lets do those changes now.

It was a giant pulse centered on his head, his ears popping rapidly as PULSE AFTER PULSE fired in his head. Fuck his smarts, his brain,, he wasn’t dumb, and he wasn’t gay. What the fuck were they… PULSE!

Fuck CoCk.. All he could think about was cock, words were too hard for anyone, cock was so easy. And it wasn’t like it was gay to want cock, nah he was still totally, absolutely straight. He was a wrestler after all… No.. No he wasn’t a wrestler, he rarely did sports.. Just worked out for… for cock. All he wants is cock. The idea of it fucking his big, fat straight ass was so hot. His clothes starting to get tighter, his shirt was reformed and reforged into a tight nylon tank top exposing ripped arms and pillowey pec side boob. His sweatpants became tight three inch inseam shorts that left little to the imagination and his boxer briefs became a slutty green jockstrap from his YEARS of wrestling.

Years of education, of marketing and research flushed down his brain and all the way to his balls as hebrew dumber and hornier by the second. His balls were sloshing around, his cock growing harder as he man spread more, ass and hips gyrating in his chair. His hole, his straight, tight, pink hole was starting to quiver and wink, begging, pleading to be fucked, an emptiness, a hungry, world ending emptiness started to fill him. Creating an itch he needed to scratch or he would never be satiated, an itch only cock could reach.

“Fuck.. Fuck chat I’m so horny, so fuckin horny and desperate, I need, I need. FUCK I NEED COCK!!” he was full on groping himself now, getting out of his chair to feel up his muscles, his arms flexing, turning his back to the camera and “Stretching” while he was actually arching his back to show off his dump truck of an ass.

“It’s so big and round and it needs someone to spread it… spread it open and… give me co… No… no this isn’t real fuck.. Fuck no I’m not some! Some… over sexed.. Fag.. i like tits.. Pussy fuck HELP ME” his hands had moved down ontop of his shorts, spreading his cheeks through them. His cock was leaking precum as he put on this show, chat was going crazy. Runbxnny’s regulars who at first had been worried were quickly shifting sides. Joining the gay raiding hackers in watching and enjoying the show.

DommerPog: That didn’t take long, who was betting that this dude was actually homophobic. I owe em twenty bucks my bad bros. But he really takes to oversexed Fag slut real well.

BottomMakr:  i told you he was, just send it through paypal, i think this dude needs to become exactly what he says, no more of this conflicting life shit, KOK makie him into his version of a faggot please

CoachStyle: Oh god thats gonna be so hot, and go ahead and put him in a wrestling singlet too

CallMeDaddy: Oh this boy is trouble, Agreed Bottom he needs to go ahead and accept his fate.

CallMeDaddy: Kokstrap how much to make him mentally trapped beneath all of this too so he has to watch himself live like this

DommerPog:  Oh fuck thats hot!

KoKStrapChanges: For you Daddy that’s free, lets really take this all in and enjoy the moment!! God this has been so fun to do.

Alex tries to beg them no but that SAME pulse echoes through his mind and all those memories of women, of his type, his favorite porn and all of the bookmarks of them start to pop away like bubbles. His first kiss, his first time, hell his prom date all disappear and with them leaves a void that he has to have filled. FILLED BY COCK. Memories of himself sucking and servicing cock flashes through his mind, different men, races, body types, all flash through his mind, he wasn’t picky he would suck or get fucked by any of them because it was an honor. His homophobic streak was ripped away from him, replaced with pride, his social media was cleansed of its boring straight boy aesthetic and made more colorful and thirsty. All of it was gone in a second and he was left with a dumb gay boy’s mind. A faggot’s mind. His face changed to match, his cheekbones were more high, his brows became perfectly manicured and his lips became plumper. Becoming perfect dick sucking lips. 

But in all of that commotion something, no, someone heard Alex’s Pleas, his father. Who immediately leapt up and went running towards his son’s stream room. It had been smart for him to stay there with his family in emergencies like this, if only his father could do more for him.

Because when he ran into the room slamming the door open, his son, his pride and joy, looked incredibly different. The straight laced, playboy who kept his body tight and fit had been completely replaced, standing infront of him instead was this porn parody of a wrestler. It was as if his body had been specifically curated by gay men, his lips were ridiculously plump, perfect DSL’s that were permanently pouty, his  chin and jaw were this perfect comic book superhero lantern jaw that screamed masculinity and jock. His pectorals were bigger then some women’s tits, these pillowey, perky muscle tits were straining the spandex, definitely meant for gay sex, singlet he was wearing, his waist and torso had unnaturally been enhanced and snatched becoming this perfect trim v line that led to his average bulge and GIGANTIC cheeks that made the legs of the singlet tear and fray. His arms and legs were built too but everything else had been accentuated and exaggerated to the point that they were of little note to the father.

He had heard something about people being changed, fringed rumors and banned accounts on the platform but he had assumed, much like the figure before him, that it was exaggerated to the point of parody. Something from tumblr or fantasy smut not a reality he and his son had to face. He slowly moved forward carefully, his son just looking confused at his father as he started spreading his cheeks to his audience.

“Please, please someone come fill me, I'm… I’m so horny, my cheeks need it, my hole is empty please.” He sounded so slutty so needy, he was also so fucking dumb. His father was aghast, what could he do, what options did he have.

“Alex what’s going on? Fuck I need to stop this!” He looks around trying to figure out what to do, his eyes immediately see OBS open, the streaming software has a glowing red live button and as he reaches for the mouse to end it, hovering over the end he suddenly feels a PULSE!! Both Alex and his father feel it hit them square in the chest, Alex’s singlet stretching to the brink of its capacity as his muscular chest and gigantic bubble butt add more muscle mass. His arms going up into a double bicep flex as he rides the wave of arousal and starts to show off the rest of his body posing and flexing/

Alex’s Father, Chet feels his body start PULSING and raking with pleasure as his head is thrown back.testosterone rushing in his veins as his body goes through a late second puberty. He feels the top of his hair thicken while more salt and pepper grows in. His neck starts to thicken and widen as his adams apple grows making the guttural groans he is letting out deepen. His shoulders broaden and his tight red polo BURSTS as his pecs inflate into two perfect muscular slabs. 

His biceps bulge out like mountains and his triceps become veinier and thicker with pure mass. His hands which had only ever seen a keyboard in an office become the epitome of gym bro callused. While his torso begins to get this strong bear muscle gut. Abs and mass built from years of labour coming out in force. His ass getting thicker and his thighs becoming humongous. He starts to catch his breath when he does the same thing as his son, and repeats his mistake everything feeling twice as pleasurable as his pants rip following suit leaving him in just a pair of boxers.

“Fuck yes DADDY please keep going!” His son yells looking down at his daddy before back at chat getting on his hands and knees above his dad.

“Fuck son no this isn’t you, you were a total pussy hound, please remember, remember your life before all of this!” He tries in vain to plead with Alex, streamer now dumb slut and Alex just giggles?

“Pussy? Daddy thats so silly, i could never  fuck a pussy with my dicklet, I’m such a faggot! I need someone to fuck my PUSSY!” His hands start roaming his fathers form, tracing along his daddy’s pec before his father swats it away. He’s looking around desperately, trying to find a solution before anything more radical happens. He can feel his cock stirring from his son’s touch, something he finds deeply disturbing but he can’t dwell on it. Therapy for later he thinks.

“Alex, please whatever has gotten ahold of you fight it!” For a second Chet sees Alex’s eyes focus on him, no longer fully glazed over with dumb horniness. A genuine look of horror before he speaks.

“Dad.. Dad it hurts so bad!” Alex says his hand reaching over to his dad, going directly to his chest. The feeling is warm and soft, gentle. His palm right above Chet’s nipples which had grown along with his chest.

“Son, please, kid speak to me tell me what hurts, tell me how to help.” Alex’s other hand  goes to his fathers other pec. At this point Alex was on all fours and moving ontop of his dad before he took that moment to strike, sliding his legs on top of his dads, straddling him.

“DADDY MY HOLE IT HURTS ITS SO EMPTY PLEASE I NEED YOU TO FILL IT!” In that moment Chet realized his son was gone, especially when the boy started gyrating against his bulge. He knew he had only one shot as he looked for a solution.

His eyes finally land on it, a solution he thinks hopefully, right in front of him, on the floor under the desk is the power supply cord. Just sitting there, waiting to be unplugged, just in reach all he had to do was tug it. “No, no this isn’t you, whatever happened here I’m going to stop it, I am going to save my boy.” With that he leapt under the deck, bucking his son off his hips and diving in, fully on his back with only his legs and bulge exposed, and as his hand touched the plug, that same PULSE from before shot into him. Except it was centered on his legs and bulge. His Cock began to fully harden, growing to its solid six inches before it slowly edged past that growing to seven, no eight.. NINE inches as his balls started to fill with cum. His thighs were perfect thunder thighs worthy of worship. An insane wave of testosterone shot through him making him hornier and hornier.

Chat was obviously going wild.

BottomMakr:  FUCK The daddy joined on in oh this is so hot, and the streamer is already ready to fuck him

DommerPog: God what a faggot slut, something for us to play with though. It be hot to make this newly muscled up stud into a pimp

CoachStyle: OMG A pimp for his own son, whoring him out on cam for money and fucking him when he gets needy enough, sign me up

CoachStyle: I mean, just the idea now of him dressing up like his coach and  “running drills” when we know for certain the only thing here getting drilled is that slut.

CallMeDaddy: DADDY AND SON CONTENT, fuck please KOK you have to change them to that, the dad would hate very second of it but think of how hot it would be for us, think of how much hotter shit is gonna get made and posted if you do

CallMeDaddy: Hell I’d wire you my next two paychecks if you did it

DommerPog:  Giving a guy a literal daddy kink sounds fucking perfect, and what a great way to make sure neither of em cause any harm again. Think about it, this guy totally was enabling his son to treat women badly.

BottomMakr: A bit of a stretch Domm, buuuuut I do agree that them both being slutty gay father and sons who slut out the sun for money and chat is the hottest it could be, lets do that. Also lets make the son addicted to Daddy’s cock for more added fun!

KoKStrapChanges: So much agreement today I love it. Okay Father and Son Special coming right up. ADDICTED TO DADDY’S COCK CAM SLUT!!

PULSE PULSE PULSE

That pulse raged through both of them, while it obviously hit Alex less, Chet felt like his mind was on fire. He tried to hold onto the image of his boy. Of the son he spent decades raising to becoming the smart, intelligent, handsome man he was today. Every bike ride till he could do it on his own, every sports game- wait alex didn’t do spo- EVERY SPORTS GAME was SO HOT… No not that. His son’s proms where he brought his girlfriends. Him getting his son into gaming and streaming, helping him build his career in a way that made sense to them. ALL of them started burning in his brain as he felt every memory associated with being a good, kind father start to burn, twist and melt.

The heart felt love in his chest began to twist and reshape as lust filled his eyes, his hard, horny, leaking cock thrusting into the air as the image of his son was corrupted. Making him into the perfect slut had always been his goal. Training him how to take dick properly since he was eighteen. Teaching him to lift weights and grow different muscle groups for the male eye. Hell he even got him into acting classes so he could study how to be a better porn star. His son was as dumb as bricks so there was no need to foster education, just lift, suck, fuck and beg for cum.

His son was an attention whore, only able to really live if eyes were on him. He had an exhibition kink being the main driving force for him to be a cam star. Memories of different scenarios and roleplays they had done on camera for his chats on chaturbate and only fans played through his mine. He loved when people did special orders and begged for Chet to get on camera and fuck his son. The idea of bending him over a chair or his bed was enough to get him leaking. Thats all he really did to show his love for him now, yeah he loved him, loved fucking and using him but at the end of the day profit was king and his son needed to make it.

“DADDY!! DADDY PLEASE… I need your cock, please I need it so bad I have been such a good boy for you. I’ll do anything Daddy, just need to feel your cock in me.” Alex was playing with his tits now. Messaging them through the lycra of his singlet, tempting his father as he tweaked his nipples. Moaning more then speaking as he licked his lips looking at his dad.

Chet stood up, walking around his son, looking down at his kneeling figure, seeing how his chest and ass distended the singlet and let out a whistle. His hand gently moved down and over to cup his sons face. Grabbing each cheek and making him look directly into his eyes.

“You want my cock slut.” His voice sounds harsh, maybe even like it was filled with venom, but Alex knew what it was, it was authority. An authority he couldn’t refuse.

“Yes, please, please I’ll do anything please let me taste your cock.” His words came out in more moans and breaths then syllables and strong annunciation. Chat was going crazy, the platform was no longer Twitch, it had become a white and blue page, to better accommodate the new NSFW streamer.

“Then get to work slut!” Chet drops his underwear, his cock flinging out, slapping this slut right in the face. Alex can’t help but follow after it. As it swings back the other way it hits his left cheek, leaving a trail of precum. Chet keeps playing this game, smacking and slapping him in the face with his cock, watching his big, dumb eyes glaze over with pleasure.

“Fuck, slut, so much hotter when your like this, when you are good and dumb for me and chat!”  His words are breathey as he holds his cock above Alex’s face, letting the boy stare up at his father, his master, with PURE awe. Mouth salivating before it finally drops down and his dad yells at him to suck it.

“Yes, yes daddy thank you….” He interrupts himself, his perfect dick sucking lips gliding over Chet’s cock head, his tongue licking and lapping around before he starts to bob up and down. His hands start to move up and down his dad’s legs, caressing and feeling up the muscles that made him so many years ago. With each inch he manages to take from his dad’s monster cock, he feels any chance of return get fucked out of his mind with it. Like as if every inch from Daddy’s cock was going straight into his brain fucking him stupider.

Chet can barely hold back, he tries to start slow but the agony of letting his boy set the pace is not worth it. He needs to give the viewers what they want, and he knows just how to. Chet’s hands firmly grab onto the sides of his BOYS head. Grabbing hair he starts to sull fuck him, using him more like a fleshlight as he starts to pummel the back of his son’s throat. His balls slap the bottom of his chin as he gives fully into the pleasure, Alex’s eyes rolling into the back of his head as he starts to feel overwhelmed, tears of pain and pleasure leaking down his face. He knew he couldn't do this forever, that there was something everyone was waiting for. Sure he could cum down his whore of a son’s throat but people really wanted to see him clap those cheeks.

Unceremoniously he pulls out of Alex’s mouth with a plop and motions for him to bend over against the chair. Alex has no reason or ability to disobey, his body does, arching his bck as he looks right at the camera to the viewers, asking them if they think hes hot. His hands going for his own nipples as he does. CHet just laughs as he stands behind his perverted, parodied son.

Leaning down so the scruff of his fully grown beard is against Alex’s face Chet smiles “Get ready bitch!” Before ripping a hole in the back of the singlet with his bare hands leaving Alex’s cheeks fully displayed in a jockstrap. Chet couldn't stop himself from giving one of those thick muscled cheeks a big SWAT, each cheek bouncing up and down as they jiggle from impact. Alex letting out a loud moan as his back somehow manages to arch forward, encouraging his daddy to go again.

SWAT SWAT SWAT

Over and over again DADDY CHET spanks his naughty, horny son, his cheeks starting to glow a vibrant red as he leaves a permanent hand print on both cheeks. His mouth was watering as he slowly caressed it, some of his fatherly love showing up as he gently touched his son after his punishment. A short aftercare before he parts those cheeks. Even shorter as he wedges his cok between those two gigantic cheeks, the tip of Chet’s cockjust barely touches the hole before he SLIDES past and underneath to tease him. Constant pressure from his tip and shaft keeping his boy on edge till he can’t stop begging.

With a wolf like grin into the camera, his hands gripping around his son's tight waist he stops teasing. AND PLUNGES RIGHT IN, his cock spearing all nine inches deep into his boy pussy.

“FUCK DADDY… DADDY YOU ARE SO BIG OH MY GOD!!” He moans out, looking at the camera feeling his own tits, his cock leaking so much it stains through the singlet.

“Big just for you boy, fuck you want more? Want daddy to fuck you harder?” Daddy starts to pull out, each inch leaving making his boy whimper before he breaks.

“Please more daddy, fucking harder please, i need it!” And with that beg from DADDY’S BOY, he obliged, thrusting right back in, his pelvis meeting Alex’s cheeks making them ripple again and again as he establishes a see-saw motion, his hands getting tighter around his waist as his mind starts to go black. Each of his muscles flexing as he pounds harder and harder into his son. His money maker, his whore that he pimps out. Each stroke, each thrust met with Alex’s own thrust back as his eyes go white and he starts to cum. Unloading all of his brain into his jockstrap. Becoming a moaning mess for his audience. His tongue lulls out as he begs for daddy’s load.

“Fuck… Fuck… take it, take it boy take all my load, your fucking mine forever you damn whore!” Daddy’s breath starts getting heavier as he loses the ability to speak, he can only grunt and moan as he loses himself to it. His balls start tightening up as he starts breeding his son, firing load after load into him. 

DommerPog: Fuck perfect transition from streamer to new cam duo

CoachStyle: Daddy definitely going to need to put on another show

CallMeDaddy: So glad we raided over into Runbxnny!! Are we going to give him a new username

BottomMakr: I don’t know for certain, all I know is that my dick is hard and that boy is horny, 

"Dude, I'm screwed," Marcus groaned, tapping his head against the desk. "Coach is gonna bench me if I don't show I'm worth during next game, but I don't have time to train or do anything because of this shit ass exam. I fucking hate organic chemistry. I wish I had full sports scholarship so I wouldn't have to worry about this stuff"

Devin looked up from his desk. "You're being dramatic. You did well on all exams this semester. And you are a good player. You'll do well. I believe in you" he said trying to be a bit more supportive towards his friend.

"Yeah, but that's all thanks to you and your tutoring. Seriously, thanks dude. I don't know what would I do without you " Marcus said, grabbing his own bicep. "Look at this. I'm 6'2 and weigh, what, 175 soaking wet? I get bodied every time I drive the lane. I need to put on some weight."

"You could just… eat more?" Devin suggested ignorantly.

"Bro, I eat. It doesn't stick. If only it was that easy" Marcus sighed. "If I was like 185, maybe I could actually hold my own down low. Get some rebounds. Be a little more physical."

Devin pulled out his phone, half-listening. He'd downloaded some weird app his old roommate sent him. He was given a free trial to test it out. Supposedly you could type things and they'd happen. Probably bullshit, but whatever. He just wanted to test it and this seemed like a good time for it.

Marcus weighs 185 pounds.

Marcus was still talking, but something was different. Looking at him, his shoulders looked broader under his tank top. His arms, usually wiry, now had visible definition. Not huge, but… solid.

"-and then I could actually finish through contact, you know? Like if I was 195, man. That's the dream. Just ten more pounds of muscle and I'd be unstoppable on the field."

"Wait," Devin blinked. "You said you just wanted to be 185."

"185?" Marcus laughed. "Nah, I hit 185 few months ago, your math is wrong. Keep up, man." He stretched a bit , his shirt definitely a lot tigher than it used to be "Been stuck at 185 for months though. Plateau is real. But I don't think I could get that big and continue playing basketball. These babies would just be too big" he added flexing his biceps that was now definitely more noticable.

Devin looked down at his phone. Then back at Marcus. Then at the phone.

Marcus weighs 195 pounds.

"That's why I switched to football, honestly. Able to get a lot bigger"

Devin's head snapped up. "Football? But didn't you play basketball"

Marcus was bigger now. Noticeably bigger. His tank top was straining. His neck had thickened, his chest pushing the fabric outward. He cracked his neck and kept going like nothing had changed.

"Yeah, played. Past tense dude. Back in highschool. You are supposed to be the smart one here" he laughed, his voice deeper "But I could never get this big and stay at basketball" Marcus leaned forward, and Devin could see the way his pecs bunched together. The tank top seams were working overtime. "I've been playing football since freshman year of college. You literally came to the homecoming game. Sat in the front row."

Devin had no memory of this. But it felt real. It felt true. Shaking his head after acquiring a new memory, Devin focused on more pressing matters... "You want to get even bigger?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Bigger?" Marcus stood up and stretched. The tank top rode up, revealing a tight stomach with the outline of his abs. "I mean… yeah. Honestly? If I could hit 220, I'd be a monster on the field. Tight ends are getting bigger every year. The guys I'm blocking are like 240, 250. I feel small half the time."

"Small." Devin's voice was flat. "You feel small."

"Bro, you don't get it because you don't play." Marcus turned as he heard a small rip. Looking at his tank top, he paused, frowning. "Fuck. I could swear this fit better the other day. I keep outgrowing my clothes lately." He said like it's the most normal thing that kept happening to him. Still, he quickly went back to the original topic... "220 is the goal. But 230?" His eyes got a little dreamy. "At 230 I could play defensive end. Always wanted to rush the passer. Just destroy quarterbacks."

Devin was already typing. He noticed the pattern so he was already a step ahead of Marcus. There was no way anyone would be disatisfied with 250.

Marcus weighs 250 pounds.

And Devin marveled at the change. Marcus's shoulders flared outward, his lats pushing his arms away from his body as the tank top gave up completely. His quads thickened, forcing his stance a little wider as his sweatpants almost tore apart. His chest expended every time he inhaled, but it didn't seem to get smaller when he exhaled. No... Instead it kept on getting bigger. His massive pecs forming a shelf that casted a shadow ober his abs. His jaw looked sharper, more defined. Everything about him was just… more. Was he taller? Perhaps the app changed his size a bit to make room for more muscle...

"Yeah," Marcus said, his voice dropping just slightly, like it had gained some bass. "Honestly being 250 is great. Defensive end is where it's at. The quarterback never sees me coming. Last game I had three sacks. The Coach said some scouts are already asking about me. NFL here I come" He grinned, and even his smile looked more confident.

Devin meanwhile stared at the man in front of him...the broad chest, the thick arms, the way he seemed to fill the room just by standing in it. He'd started this conversation with a lanky basketball player. Now there was a defensive end standing in his dorm room, talking about the NFL like it was inevitable. He couldn't help himself as his thumb hovered over the screen. Marcus was already massive. A 250 pounds of muscle packed into a torn tank top, looking like he could bulldoze through a brick wall. That was enough... at least for now. But Devin's mind started to wonder. What else could this app do?

Marcus caught him staring. "What are you looking at, bro?" He said putting on a new shirt since the last tank top gave up, casually flexing his bicep as it grew to the size of a football. "You've been on your phone all night. Texting some girl?"

"Something like that," Devin muttered. Looking at this muscle hunk he had just created, Devin got a little greedy. Marcus was looking so good, he had to adda few more things-

Marcus has a massive bulge. He's extremely well endowed. He's not shy about it.

"You know what's funny," Marcus said, shifting his weight and spreading his legs a little wider as he sat down, not seemingly not wearing any shorts. He was done with studying for tonight. "Playing D-end, you get a lot of attention. Girls love the big guys." He gestured down at himself and smirked.

Devin's eyes involuntarily dropped. The underwear that Marcus was wearing were suddenly… full. Very full. There was a prominent, thick outline of his bulge running down his thigh that definitely hadn't been there a minute ago. Devin felt his face get hot.

"Dude, my eyes are up here," Marcus laughed, but he didn't sound offended. If anything, he sounded proud. He leaned back on his hands, which only made the situation more obvious. "Not my fault I got blessed, you know? Genetics, man. Some guys get this or that. But I got it all. Muscle, height, dick. What more could man ask for" The man simply smirked

"Right," Devin choked out. "Genetics."

"I mean, you've seen it in the showers. You know what I'm working with." Marcus said it so casually, like it was common knowledge, as he stood up, moving to the bed behind them and the poor chair made a sound in relief. And suddenly... There was another memory in Devin's head. His brain supplied the picture. He had seen it. Marcus was famous for it on the team. Guys joked that he had to tape it down before games. A third leg. That's what they called him.

"Anyway" Marcus continued, adjusting himself without a hint of shame, "Coach wants me to move to offensive line. Says at my size I could be a hell of a left tackle. Protect the quarterback's blind side." He cracked his knuckles. "But I don't know. D-end is more fun. You get to be aggressive."

Devin was only half-listening. His eyes kept drifting down to Marcus's lap, where the thick outline seemed to pulse slightly every time the big man shifted his weight. It was hypnotic. It was also giving Devin ideas.

Marcus is extremely horny all the time. He talks about it openly.

"-and the thing about offensive line is the stance," Marcus was saying, then paused. He let out a low groan and adjusted himself again, more forcefully this time. "Sorry bro. I've been so damn worked up lately. It's annoying."

"Yeah?" Devin's voice came out squeakier than he intended.

"Dude, it's constant. I wake up ready to go. Practice is brutal because I'm chafing in my cup half the time. Showers after? Forget about it. I have to wait till everyone leaves or I'll poke someone's eye out." He laughed, but there was smugness in his expression. "Coach says it's all the testosterone. Guy at my size, lifting as heavy as I do, eating as much as I do… it simply natural"

"So you just… walk around like that?" He said pointing at the hard on he was having at the moment.

"Pretty much." Marcus didn't look embarrassed. If anything, he looked proud of it, like it was just another muscle he'd built. "Girlfriends love it at first. Then they get tired. I had one tell me I was 'too much to handle.'" He made air quotes with his thick fingers, before starting to casually stroke himself. Loking back at Devin, as if he wasn't just pleasuring himself, Marcus smirked again "You've got that look on your face."

"What look?" Devin asked, quickly shaking his head as he looked up from Marcus obvious bulge that was being stroked by those rough and collosal hands. He could see the thick outline of his new dick and the raging libido that came with it. It was... Mesmerizing. But he couldn't just stare at it-!

"The one where you're thinking too hard about something." Marcus studied him with those dark eyes... had they always been that deep brown? "You always do that. It's kind of cute, actually."

"Cute?" Devin's voice cracked. Did his straight roommate call him cute? He could feel it... The blood flowing through him and making his face fed.

"Yeah. That's the word." Marcus said it with a shrug. "You get all flustered. Your ears turn red. It's endearing." He leaned forward, hands still in his underwear . "Any girl would be lucky to have you."

'I'm not into girls' Devin thought as he looked as his phone, already with an idea on how to solve this situation. His thumb hesitated over the screen. Then he typed.

Marcus is bisexual. He prefers men. Specifically, he is deeply attracted to Devin.

A strange look crossed Marcus's face. He blinked slowly, as if seeing something or someone for the very first time. His gaze traveled from Devin's face down and back up again. The casual energy in the room shifted, grew charged.

"You know what?" Marcus said, his voice dropping into a lower register, "Scratch that. Any girl is the wrong thing to say." He stopped stroking himself as he stood up from the bed, all 6'5" of him, packed with 250 pounds of muscle, and crossed the small distance between them. "What I meant to say is... I've been thinking about you differently lately, Devin."

"You have?" Devin's voice was barely a whisper as he couldn't believe what was happening. He saw what the app could do, but this... This was on another level... Was he being too greedy with these changes? It startered out of joke, then goodwill but at the end was only fuffling his fantasies...

"Mm." Marcus was very close now, his face inches away from Devin's "I have. You're always here for me. You're smart. You're funny. And honestly..." He reached out and gently took the phone from Devin's nervous fingers, setting it aside on the desk without even glancing at it. "I find you incredibly attractive. I was just afraid to say it before. But this feels like the right moment, doesn't it? It feels... right." His hand came up, warm and solid, to cup Devin's "Tell me if I'm reading this wrong. Tell me you don't feel it too, and I'll back off. We'll go back to just being friends. No weirdness."

Devin's mind was racing through everything that had changed in the last fifteen minutes. The size, the height, the whole impossible wave of transformations. But looking up into those dark... And huge pecs, he found it hard to care about consequences. "You're not reading it wrong," he said quietly.

"Great." Marcus smiled "Because I was hoping that's what this meant" he said jokingly pointing out small bulge in Devin's pants and the smaller boy immediately blushed even harder. Taking him to bed, Marcus simply smiled "Since you are on board... I've got some ideas about what we should do tonight. And none of them involve studying."

The mid-morning sun blazed over the Springfield college campus on a Sunday morning. Just off the main road, on a winding side street stood the well worn home of the Omega X Phi boys. A towering construction with multiple towers hanging on a wraparound porch. Three stories tall, whitewashed wood covering every wall. Multiple 20 something men were passed out on the front lawn from last night's rager.

A sharp knocking sound rang as a hand rapped the brass Greek letter knocker. The sound grew louder and more incessant when no one came to the door. Finally a hunky freshman by the name of Terence roused himself from his spot on the foyer. He stumbled upstairs, opening and closing the doors till he found the fraternity president. Johnathan or JB was sound asleep, sandwiched between a busty blonde girl and a bodybuilder type guy. Terence shook him awake.

“Yo, like, someone’s at the door. Think it’s some kinda narcs, bro.”

JB blinked awake, trying to calm his jittery brother. “Hey it’s fine, let’s go see what this about.”

He carefully climbed out of bed and gestured for Terence to follow him. As they climbed down the stairs JB kicked two other frat members awake. Chad and Kip, both recent additions to Omega X Phi. They opened the door, squinting in the bright light that helped their hangovers very little. 

Standing on the chipped wood of the porch, from left to right stood a varied and disgruntled group. First was the young athletic coach of the girls sports team, none of the hungover males could recall what sport. But who really cared about women’s sports anyway?  Besides her looking like the total opposite of the coach was a middle aged southern woman. Her hair clearly dyed to keep away the gray and her yellow blouse cut perfectly to her figure. Three more people stood huddled together, two willowly young men, a little too young to be on a college campus. They had both been dragged by the older girl in front of them, she was clearly in charge of them by the way they looked at her, a mixture of fear and respect. She had a fierce expression on her face, at odds with her nerd girl outfit. The skinny dude on the end looked very uncomfortable to be around the others. He didn’t seem to have such an obvious dislike of the frat. All of them had come, however for the same reason, the rumors of the frat's “unorthodox” approach to recruiting, especially after it had been linked to several missing people. 

Now let me clear something up: Omega X Phi had a long slightly magical history. Since the founding in the late 80s the frat had been linked to numerous missing persons cases. But those people were never harmed, all of them turned out happier in the end. Not that anyone ever figured out the truth, to be a member was to be sworn to secrecy but to be given powers beyond comprehension. Not very creative thinkers, they just used these abilities to create more frat brothers. JB, the newest president had immediately hit the ground running, but it seemed the frats' activities hadn’t been as discreet as he would have liked. 

“Yo can I help you guys,” JB said as jovially as he could through his hangover. 

“Help! Help! You turned half of my team into guys, I barely have enough left to field a team!” Yelled the coach.

The mom next to her broke in “And my daughter was the captain, set to be on the national team. Now he’s chugging effing beers all night.”

“Ugh, who cares about dumb sports,” broke in the nerd girl. “I just want my genius boyfriend back.” 

She kicked the boys next to her in the shins till they squeaked out similar sentiments. “Yeah, give us back our big bro.” “Give him back, give him back” 

The guy on the left shuffled his feet, “I’m not with them, I just want… um, ya know.”

JB looked at the guys around him, his gaze loaded with words only his fellow bros understood. And simultaneously the bros picked a target and lunched forward, way too fast for a hangover.

“God, I’m way too drunk for this!”

JB grabbed a football off of one of the sagging chairs and tossed it to the coach. She caught it with one hand. 

“What the hell is this!” She snapped annoyed

But suddenly a surge of energy shot up her arm, her veins thickening. Muscles becoming massive and dense, and her frame broadening. Her height shot up, legs becoming long and thick, covered in a scattering of light hair. Her skin darkened and became a dark tan, as if she was outside daily. 

“W-what’s happe-ning tooo me,” she yelled through clenched teeth. Her voice deeper as her neck grew a sizable Adam’s Apple.

Her body continued to grow as she desperately tried to stop the changes. Her breast pushed back into her chest, leaving a smooth hard pectoral shelf. A small treasure trail grows on top of her already defined abs. Her hair began to ripple, sifting into a short spiked style. Her face broadened, becoming something distinctly male. She felt a strange feeling in her pants, reaching a hand unconsciously in. She freaked out upon feeling a small still-growing male prostrate. 

“What- is this a…?” She trailed off

“A dick, yep,” JB chuckled. “Every football star needs one, how else are you supposed to fuck the cheerleaders.” 

“Football star?” She now sputtered as his changing hormones fueled a growing hornyness. 

He couldn’t help but touch his new dick as it grew erect, filling him with an unfamiliar pleasure. His school branded polo vanished as his shorts reformed into an old pair of blue sweatpants, long enough to benefit her new size. His feet grow to massive proportions, breaking free of his tennis shoes. 

A sharp pain rang through his head, as if a dozen hangovers had all hit at once. The pain so great he wasn’t aware as his mind was rewritten. Memories of growing up in a home of girls, advocating for female representation, and getting her dream coaching position replaced with flashes of growing up with a single dad who taught him how to throw his first football, playing varsity all through high school, and being accepted as the starting quarterback for Springfield College. His hormones changed as new desires coursed through his brain, the urge to run off the last nights partying, the scattered feeling of screwing the guy cheerleaders in the locker room. 

JB looked to his right to see Chad in a huge argument with his mother. 

“I’m a dude, mom. This is what I want, why can’t you just fucking accept that!”

“No, sweetie. They changed you, this isn’t what you want, you loved being a girl. Don’t you remember…” she said, her voice raising in high pitched panic. 

“No, I remember you dragging me along on shopping trips I didn’t want to go on, I remember you forcing me into sports. I don’t care what you think, this is what I want to be.”

Chad finished his winded speech with finality refusing to listen to the rest of his moms desperate pleas. 

“You’ll get it soon, ma,” He muttered.

Suddenly she stopped ranting and fell silent as she felt  a strange bout of nausea. And she too began to change.

Her transformation was quite different from the coach’s. She didn’t regress down at all, in fact she stayed the same middle age. Yet she seemed to become older due to her desperate attempts at staying young reversing. That couldn’t have been more clear as wrinkles began to come into existence on her face. Making her look older and more distinguished. Her hair began to darken, not graying dispite her age just turning her original brown. Her delicate manicured hands not escaping the change, they thickened into massive meaty mits. Years of labor making them broad and tough, her pink nails cracking off revealing bitten down nails at the end of stubby fingers. 

Her thin body began to grow at a rapid rate, her while body becoming enlarged with a both fat and dormant muscle. Her arms, legs, chest, and back growing to fit a lengthening bone structure. She could feel the change in strangth in her body, she rarely worked out and so the new found muscle was disorienting. She could feel the power with each muscle that grew, as she began to wobble with unfamiliar height.

Finally looking her middle age and feeling more comfortable in her skin then she had for years. Her body had become nearly double the size, packing on even more as time went on. Breasts already traded for hard earned chest muscles. Thighs touching from the thickness of both muscle and fat. His ass now far more soild, but still the same large size she had prided herself on. 

“Son.. stop this. Ugh.” She ground out, not even noticing the causal change of pronoun reference.

Chad just watched the transformation continue. A thick layer of body hair began to sprout in every visible place, which was quite a lot as her body had outgrown her former clothing. It spread down her legs and over her forearms. Coating her ass and rippled  abdomen. But her chest had the densest forest of manly fur growing out of it. As it happened her fomor nips become smaller and smaller, growing ever so slightly erect. Meanwhile the perfectly styled hair she’d kept since high school began receded all the way back into a tight crew cut followed by her nonexistent faical hairmbecoming a sparse mature beard. 

Finally the headache subsided, bringing forth the mental shift. The changes flooded her mind just as it had with the former coach and everything unnecessary vanished from existence. Detaching her from her former life completely before installing new wants, needs and goals into her brain. Forcing him to think like a man and think of herself as a man. As this new thought popped into his mind, a thick girthy manhood grew under a newly formed jockstarp. His brain forged newfound obsessions with drinking and american football that he couldn’t wait to indulge in. Filling his memory bank with endless amounts of dad jokes. Implanting an irresistible urge to work out enough to keep him thick and hot. And of course we can’t forget an insatiable desire for sex.

Chadwick sir blinked groggily, Chad grinned up at his dad.

“Told ya not to drink that much, you just can’t keep up with us young blood anymore.”

Terence on the other hand was being barraded by his former girlfriend and brothers.

“Baby, this isn’t you, please come back.” She begged through tears, the brothers echoed her sentiments.

“Just be smart again, big bro.”

“Yeah, we miss our bro.”

Terence rubbed his hands through his messy brown curls. “Look, I don’t need a girlfriend anymore, ya know. And you bros are always welcome in my life, you know that.”

“No!!! You will not fag out on ME!” Terence’s ex screamed, making him lose any sense of regret for what he had to do. His brothers saw the change in his face and tried to shut her up to no anvil. 

They all felt a sudden drop in their stomachs and smelled something gross. It smelled like a mixture of old socks and moldy cheese. They wrinkled their noses as the stink invaded their minds. They recoiled but couldn’t help but sniff more, as if to discover the source of such a disgusting smell.

The transformation hit them like a lightning. First all of their bodies shot up, becoming the indentical height of exactly 6”. Next thing they felt was their chest shifting, her breasts vanished in favor of wide man nipples. Hard pectorals began to develop and punched their way unto place on chests. Beneath their clothing soild sets of washboard abs formed out of fat layers. Under said abs, the girls transformation took on a slightly different form then the boys, as her vingia reformed into a average sized disk weighed down by usually large testicles. 

Their legs also began to change, making them steadier in thier changing bodies. One of the boys made a slight gasping noise as his quads began to tense into solid muscle, perfect for the running they’d be doing every day. As soon as their thighs were done blowing up, their calves followed. Expanding with solid muscle on top of more muscle. She felt her butt flatten slightly to match the other two’s smaller asses. Their arm’s transformation mirrored the rest of their bodies. Years worth of muscle work pumped into thier arms, their biceps and triceps expanding to melon like proportions. Their hands expanding to become a natural size for gripping a beer or dabbing up. 

Once their hands had reached full size their feet’s changes kicked into high gear.  They could feel them expanding, toes becoming little meaty sausages, until their shoes collapsed form the pressure. Revealing massive stompers, thick with vain and muscle. 

“Ya know, maybe it’d be, like, cool to join the frat.” One of Terence’s brothers remarked. 

The others two tried to speak but couldn’t through the thickness in their expanding throut. All of them moaning deeply and sniffing desperately at this point, trying to inhale as much of that glorious stink as possible. By the time their necks reach maximum thickness they sounded like the deep tones of masculine jocks. Till this point thier transformations had been almost identical, now’s as the changes spread to their necks they began to diverge in appearance. 

The girlfriend’s head began to stretch longer and thicker. Her hair began to turn blond, her tight bun just vanishing completely. Her remaining hair fluffing out the sides and growing out on top. As soon as it stopped growing, a hat plopped unto her head. One of the boys felt his cheekbones move up and his chin pushing down, causing his cheeks to suck themselves in. The remaining brother’s nose shrank a slightly and both of thier lips grew a little wider. Both of the boys kept their hair colors of blonde and brown respectively, but it was now styled in a more jockish style. All of thier eyes took on a dull glare, making thier resemblance to Terence even more apparent.

Their sniffing become even more intense as the origins of the smell slowly became apparent. They began to feel slightly itchy, looking down they realized a faint dusting of hair was coming in across their body. Heavily covering everything, arms, legs, chest, even in thier butts. The thickest places was the dense bushes on their gargantuan feet and the dense forest of armpit hair. Once the hair had stopped growing thier bodies began to produce the powerful musk. The small but mighty scatterings of body hair were currently stink factories working overtime. 

Terence laughed as he watched the now three boys desperately huffed each other. Tearing of each others clothing that reformed as quickly as it went. Their pants becomibg shirts in varying colors, black, green, and white. One gained a worn gray t-shirt, the fomor girl a sleeveless hoddie, giving the last, adorned in a mesh jersey, full access to his musky pits. Worn sneakers grow over thier massive feet and two gained a pair of sunglasses that made them look like the dochebags they had become. 

The more they greedily laped up each other scent, the more thier minds began to dull. Blankness becaming their default mood, Memories of family and high school began to disappear and respawn as memories of tons of friends, girlfriends, and secret relationships with other bros all perfect copies of each other. The fomor girlfriend’s memories of late night studying were now replaced with drunken homecoming bashes and late night bangs identical to his new brothers. All thier intellectual thoughts and ideas began to flow out of them, becoming a physical thing in the form of hypnotic musk. 4.0’s slowly became B’s, which dragged into C’s, and in turn dragged into barely even graduating. They remembered that dispite thier academic difficulties they where eagerly accepted on lacrosse scholarship. Making them able to enter collage at the same time as their big bro. Dispite the year difference, Terence had gotten held back twice and the triplets only once. 

The slim guy watched all this happen with excitement, and trembled with anticipation when Kip approached him, the gentle giant seaside nothing, instead raising his fist for the man to bump. 

Once there first touched, an explosion of color flooded the man’s vision. His body spasmed as his frame shot up to the sky, broad shoulders and long legs making him a massive 6,3”. muscle flooded into his new body. Rippling muscle twisted on his arms, in which plump vains swelled. Biceps and triceps gaining a powerful new roundness, ending in long fingered hands, also swelled thick with vains. Thick pectorals grew like balloons  his chest. Defined muscluler abs appearing out of thin air, leading teasingly down below. 

Speaking of down below, his formerly small member swelled to easily 8”. Hair growing over a heavy balls sack, the tests filling with testosterone and sperm. The growth continued down his legs. His thighs swelling as large as beer kegs, so large they rubbed against each other.  Spreading down, his calves bulked with soild muscle. And his feet expanding, becoming massive and sweaty. Filling with vein too, his feet stopped growing around a size 16. 

“Yessss, bye bye skinny boo.” He yelled as his transformation continued. 

His face began to change, gaining classically handsome features. A sharp jawline, proud nose, puffy lips, and natural bedroom eyes. His buzz cut grew out into effortlessly messy fringe, making him look like a tic-tok wanna be. Covered quickly by a backwards baseball cap. His black hoddie and sweats reshaped, becoming a tight fitting gray tank top and black shorts showing off the slight hair on his muscular legs. To complete the physical change, he flelt a slight weight on his neck in the form of a thick silver chain and a matching bracelet. 

He felt his brain fog over, years of low self esteem and social isolation replaced by partying all night and fucking long into the morning. He felt his strangth of mind replaced by strangth of body. As if all his smarts and awareness had been transmuted into physical form. Details filled in the blanks, growing up in an athletic family, coming out as gay at a young age, and fulfilling his life long dream of becoming a frat boy freshmen year. Once the final changes clicked in place, a hysterical smile grew on his lips. 

“Hello, big dick frat boi bf!”

JB looked around at the new frat brothers around him. The quarterback started to talk excitedly to him.

“I’m going to need way more bros for the team. Got, like, lots of ideas bro.” He said. 

Chad was trying to get his hungover father into the frat house. Muttering curses under his breath for not making his mom into a younger brother like Terence. Terence stood, however, dealing with his own issues.

“We’re so fuckin hot now, bros,” one of the triplets remarked.

“I’m obviously the hotest tho’,” another muttered.

“Hey,” yelled the last, “it’s me,”.

“You dudes are hopeless. Legit, y’all are identical.” Terence said, exasperated beyond belief.

As the day went on the new bros began to fade into the rhythm of the fraternity. That night they huddled on the roof, drunk, watching the sun set over the collage campus. Sending a clear message into the ether, Omega X Phi would never go fucking down, bro.

“Duuuude,” he said.

I had just returned from the past. This douche ran into me on the street and had the audacity to say it was my fault. So I made sure he went to football camp instead of business school.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

He smiled dumbly. “Nah, man,” he chuckled. His eyes flitted down to my crotch.

I took a few creative liberties here and wrote a long one lol. Enjoy!

-------------------

“C’mon,” Ethan muttered, gripping the back of the couch as he tried to straighten his right leg. “I’ve got this... I've... fuck!”

He exhaled deeply and collapsed onto the couch, wincing as the pain shot through his knee. It hurt so much, so fuckin' much. And it wasn't just physical. He could hear his phone buzzing, the messages piling up.

"You coming back this season, bro?"

"Tubing Friday. Your knee good enough yet?"

"Scouts still asking about you btw."

Ethan cursed again. He missed going to practice. Missed drinking with bros. Missed the parties, the dumb arguments, the camaraderie. He missed his life before the injury.

“Fuck me...” His head sunk into his hands, "Stupid fuckin' knee."

He glanced up at his stick and the framed photo of the team. Him in the middle with a wide grin and his arm around his bros. Fuck... he wanted to get back to that. And he wanted to get back fast.

"There's gotta be a way..." He muttered.

An hour later he was deep in rehab forums when an ad stopped him cold.

BUILD-U-BACK RECOVERY NOW ENROLLING IN YOUR AREA: A NEW START, LASTING RELIEF

“Sounds fake as hell,” Joe murmured. But when he glanced back at the team photo he felt a pang in his chest. He reached for his wallet soon after.

----------------

This was it. Ethan stood on the empty practice field, stick in hand. The cold night air felt good against his warm skin. The stadium lights already dimming.

"Okay..." He bounced on the balls of his feet, "Okay, I've got this."

He dropped into goalie stance carefully, bracing for the pain. But it never came.

"No way..." Ethan pushed harder, shuffling across the crease before planting sharply off the bad leg, "Oh my god." He laughed with disbelief, "No fuckin' way!"

"Walsh?"

Ethan spun and smiled wider when he saw Luke, "Bro!"

"Dude! You're running!"

"I know! I fuckin' know!" He pointed at his knee, "It's gone, dude! It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Let's fuckin' go, bro!"

It fuckin' worked. That fuckin' drug actually worked! Ethan stood proud, chest heaving and adrenaline surging. He was back. Practice, scouts, games, parties... it was all back.

-----------------

“Dude! First game back, you feel ready?”

Ethan looked up from tying his cleats and grinned. “More than ready.”

He tugged at the bottom of his hoodie, annoyed again by how tight it felt around his waist and chest. He’d already stopped wearing some of his older shirts entirely after realizing they didn’t fit right anymore. He figured his dryer was doing a number on his wardrobe.

“We won’t be too upset if you fuck up out there,” Luke said while peeling his shirt over his head. “We get you’re a little rusty.”

“Eat shit,” Ethan laughed, tossing a roll of tape at him before reaching for his own hoodie.

The cool air felt warm against his skin, and Ethan scratched absentmindedly at his chest, pausing for just a moment as his fingers tangled with thicker hairs there.

"The fuck...?" Ethan frowned and looked down.

Dark curls spread across the middle of his chest before trailing down his stomach and disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts. Sweat glistened faintly through the hair despite the cold room, and when Ethan shifted slightly, the waistband dug tighter against a stomach that suddenly looked thicker than he remembered.

"I shaved this shit this morning..." He figured the hair growth was a side effect of the drug, but he'd spent the last few days making sure he kept it under control. But now...?

Luke whistled low. “Damn, Walsh. Didn’t realize the recovery plan involved growing a lawn on your chest and blowing out your waistline.”

A couple guys laughed awkwardly before looking away again.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ethan muttered, pulling his jersey on faster than usual. The fabric stretching tighter around his waist than he remembered.

Nobody really said anything after that.

Ethan forced a grin anyway and slammed his locker shut. “Alright, boys,” he called out. “Let’s do this.”

-------------

It was supposed to feel normal again. Friday night. Sports bar packed wall-to-wall after the game. Music too loud. Ethan sat wedged between Luke and Dylan with a cold Busch Light in his hand before realizing halfway through the bottle that he didn’t even remember ordering it.

“You looked like shit tonight,” Luke laughed.

“Appreciate it.”

“Seriously though, you good?”

Ethan scratched at the rough stubble on his chin. “Just playing bad.”

His phone buzzed against the table.

"CONGRATULATIONS ON ONE MONTH! YOUR NEXT PHASE OF RECOVERY STARTS TONIGHT!"

Ethan frowned at the notification before locking the screen again, "Next phase?" He stared at his arm, now dusted with dark hairs.

"Hey Ethan." Luke nudged him, "Someone's staring."

Ethan spotted her across the bar. Blond. Gorgeous. Smiling at him. For the first time all night, something loosened in his chest.

“There we go,” Dylan laughed when he caught Ethan staring. “That’s the Walsh we know.”

Ethan grinned and took another sip. Soon after, he was fumbling with his apartment keys while she laughed softly beside him in the hallway. They moved to his bedroom, clothes discarded quickly.

"Fuck..." Ethan whispered, as she kissed slowly along his neck, "I needed..."

"Standby mode protocol upload."

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“What?” she asked softly.

“It's uh... Nothin’.”

Her hands slid slowly across his chest and draped around his shoulders before pausing.

“Wow,” she said with a small laugh. “You’re kinda hairy.”

Ethan glanced down automatically, eyes widening at the sight of the dark hair curling across his shoulders and down his back.

"That's not..." He knew it wasn't there five hours ago.

“Sorry,” she added quickly, still smiling. “You’re just hairer than most guys I’ve been with.”

"Pleasure directives stem from labor initiatives."

Ethan winced hard enough that she finally pulled back slightly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I just...” He rubbed at his forehead. “I don’t feel right.”

She kissed him again anyway, her hand sliding lower across the thicker, softer shape of his stomach before slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers and around his flaccid cock.

“Oh,” she laughed gently, trying to mask her confusion.

Ethan glanced down, a wave of sickening humiliation washing over him. His cock stayed completely dead. Buried in a dense, coarse mat of newly thick pubic hair and a rapidly expanding fat pad, his dick looked distinctly shorter, stubbier, and entirely useless

“You okay?” she asked again, quieter this time.

“Yeah. I just...” He swallowed hard. “I dunno. It's not working... I... Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said softly, “Seriously. It happens.”

A few minutes later he stood awkwardly by the door while she slipped her shoes back on.

“Maybe just stress?” she offered gently.

“Yeah.” Ethan forced a laugh. “Probably.”

After she left, the apartment felt painfully quiet again. Ethan stood there shirtless for another minute before walking to the fridge automatically and grabbing another Busch Light.

------------

A week had passed, and Ethan exhaled heavily as he stepped out of the shower. He’d stopped changing in the locker room after practice a few days ago, tired of catching teammates staring too long at his stomach or shoulders before awkwardly looking away. Now, alone in his apartment, there was nobody else left to notice except him.

“Jesus Christ...” he whispered at his reflection.

The mirror across from the bed reflected somebody that looked wrong. Dark curls spread heavily across his chest and shoulders now, while rough stubble shadowed his jaw despite shaving before practice that morning. Even standing still, his body looked heavier than it used to.

“I’m exercising,” Ethan muttered weakly. “I’m eating healthy...” His eyes drifted toward the empty Busch Light cans scattered across the nightstand, “I...”

"Standby initiating."

Ethan’s breath caught as the voice echoed in his head.

“What the...”

"Standby mode active."

Every muscle in his body locked instantly.

Ethan jerked hard against it on instinct, but nothing responded correctly. His fingers twitched once beside his thigh before going still again. His chest continued rising and falling normally. He could blink. Breathe. Swallow. But that was it.

“What... the fuck...” he forced out weakly.

Hours passed as Ethan sat frozen on the edge of the bed staring into the mirror. The rough hair across his chest thickened slowly while his stomach pushed heavier against his lap with every shallow breath. His face itched constantly as a dark beard spread across his jaw until he looked like he hadn’t shaved in weeks.

A knock on the door and the sound of heavy footsteps entering his apartment made him tense. He watched as two men in BUILDING-U-BACK jackets entered his room and stopped mid-step when they saw Ethan in nothing but a pair of tight sweatpants.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “That’s the lacrosse kid?”

“Yeah. CRW-57F.”

The younger guy kept staring. “Still got some of that frat-boy face left.”

“Not for too long.”

The younger rep shook his head slowly. “Weird seeing one this young.”

“Don’t worry,” the older rep said casually. “Give it a week and you won’t even be able to pick 'em out from the others.”

Ethan strained against the paralysis hard enough that his jaw twitched once.

“You know what’s crazy?” the younger rep continued. “Six months from now he’ll be drinking beer after shifts talking about kids that don’t exist like the rest of ’em.”

“Yeah well, the whole family-man thing makes clients comfortable. People trust workers who look settled.”

One of them glanced toward the empty Busch Light cans beside the bed.

“Damn,” he muttered. “He’s already self-reinforcing.”

“Good sign.”

Ethan let out another whimper as he tried to reach for his phone, but his arm wouldn't budge.

“Oh shit,” the younger rep said suddenly. “You think he knows what we’re saying?”

“Nah,” the older rep replied casually. “The lab guys say there's not much left going on upstairs during standby.”

Ethan felt something cold settle quietly in his chest. The older rep finally looked directly at him and nodded toward the hallway.

“C’mon CRW-57F," He tossed him his old lacrosse hoodie, "Housing assignment’s ready.”

Ethan stood automatically.

------------

Ethan barely remembered the drive to the facility. He had been packed into a van shoulder-to-shoulder with a few other hirsute guys sporting beer guts. His eyes remained fixed on the man across from him, and Ethan realized with growing dread that it was like looking in a mirror.

"There's been a mistake!" He tried to call out, but the words in his head wouldn't leave his mouth, "Please..."

When they did finally arrive at the facility, he was walked to a featureless room with a table and a few bins.

"This is CRW-57F." A man said to his colleague, entering the room, "Originally Ethan Walsh. Signed up for the program for an injured knee." He looked down at his clipboard, "Worker identity is officially Joe Mercer."

"Joe Mercer? That's not..." He thought, but the name Ethan was already starting to feel distant.

"Alright, let's get him in the system." The man continued, "We're going to need your personal belongings, CRW-57F."

Joe felt as he reached into his pocket and gripped his phone. He quickly dropped it into one of the bins, along with his keys, wallet, student ID.

"Oh shit, that's the college kid?" One of the men said, looking down at the ID.

"Yeah, lacrosse player, if you can believe it now."

"Damn, that drug did a number on him." The man sighed, "Okay, CRW-57F, need the clothes too."

Ethan winced as he gripped his team's lacrosse hoodie and yanked it off. Cool air hit the thick hair covering his chest and stomach, and he heard one of the employees exhale quietly through his nose.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Hope the knee was worth it.”

"Update on the apartment?"

"Cleaning crew is taking care of that, lease will terminate tomorrow."

"N-No..." Ethan thought, imagining them clearing it out. His team photo. His lacrosse gear. The clothes crammed into the closet. Every piece of evidence that Ethan Walsh had ever existed.

"Family updated?" The other man nodded, "And..."

"What do you think? Took it poorly." The other man sighed, "Kid’s barely old enough to drink and now he’s gonna look older than his dad."

"Visitation scheduled?"

"In a month."

Ethan felt his stomach twist. The thought of his parents seeing him like this made him want to disappear.

"By then he'll be settled enough that it won't matter much." The rep muttered, "They all stop trying eventually."

One of them picked up Ethan's student ID and looked at the picture for a second before tossing it into the bin with the rest of his belongings.

"Poor kid."

"Yeah."

The lid snapped shut. A folded stack of clothes landed in Ethan’s arms a second later. Gray work shirt. Plain jeans. Steel-toe boots. The employee checked another box on his clipboard.

“Alright CRW-57F,” he said casually. “let's get you downstairs.”

------------

Ethan barely slept.

The worker housing smelled like sweat, musk, sawdust, and stale beer. The bed made his back ache. Men wandered the halls at all hours wearing gray shirts and work pants, scratching at thick stomachs or rubbing sleep from heavy eyes while they talked about wives, back pain, football games, and their kids.

“Tyler’s putting on weight. Gonna join the football team like his old man.”

“Yeah? Mine just turned thirteen. Kid's eating me out of house and home already!”

Ethan sat quietly on the edge of his bed with a Busch Light in his hand, staring toward the floor while his body moved through routines his brain still hadn’t fully accepted. Every few hours that same pressure built behind his eyes again, and afterward his thoughts always came back slower.

"Who are these people?" He wondered, "They all look... the same..."

But when he looked down, he realized how much he looked like them too. Even more than the night he was brought to the facility. The gut, the hair, the beard, the weathered skin... what the fuck had they done to him?

“Tyler’s putting on weight. Gonna join the football team like his old man.”

Ethan looked up slowly. A different pair of workers stood near the vending machines now.

“Yeah? Mine just turned thirteen. Kid's eating me out of house and home already!” The exact same laugh followed.

Ethan felt his stomach tighten. It was the same conversation, the same cadence… the same everything. They all talked like that. All looked the same. Nothing to distinguish them...

"Lacrosse." He thought suddenly.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture the locker room. The smell of the gear. The roar after a clean save. He could almost see the jersey. Blue. Or green? No... Red?

Ethan shuddered and took another swig of his beer.

------------

He couldn't recall the drive out here. One moment he was climbing into his assigned bunk, the next he was hauling lumber across a chaotic job site. Sweat drenched the thick hair across his torso. He reeked, too... of sawdust, exhaustion, and that stale musk clinging like the rest of them. He craved a shower, but knew better. Management preferred them this way.

"57F?" Two reps walked past him, "Still not meeting his quotas."

"Really? You'd think with him having been a star athlete..."

"Eh, you would think." The rep muttered, "We've found it really doesn't."

"Shame. We'll ship him out to Ohio tomorrow then, they're looking for more men and he's slowing us down."

He continued to work, but their words kept repeating in his head. A month ago, he was a star. Always getting positive feedback, always being commended. Now, he was failing at whatever this nightmare was.

"Joe?" He turned immediately to see one of the workers approach him, "You remember my boy, yeah?" The man smiled, "Tyler’s putting on weight. Gonna join the football team like his old man."

"Yeah?" The word left his mouth before he could even think about it. In fact, he didn't even really process it. Everything slowed suddenly, simplified in his brain. Lacrosse? Old apartment? Friends? Suddenly, it felt far from reach, "Mine just turned thirteen." He'd heard those words before from the other workers. The exact same words. Delivered in the same cadence, with the same gravely voice. Now... those words were coming from him, "Kid's eating me out of house and home already!"

Both men laughed. But as the other worker stepped away, Ethan's eyes widened.

"Fuck... no..." His thoughts were slower than they had been just two minutes prior. But so was his anxiety. Everything suddenly felt so much simpler, "La-lacrosse... lacrosse... not this..." He repeated for as long as his mind let him.

The pressure behind his eyes returned immediately. Ethan squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the lumber until his knuckles turned white. He tried to hold onto the panic, tried to hold onto the certainty that something terrible was happening to him, but even that feeling seemed to be slipping away. The fear was still there. He could feel it. Yet every second it felt smaller, duller, less important than the work waiting around him.

"Joe!" He looked up automatically. One of the workers waved him over, "Quit daydreaming. Grab this end."

He did as he was told and the pressure vanished. Relief flooded him, washing away the confusion, the panic...

"Appreciate it," the worker said.

"No problem." The answer came naturally, "I ain't no slacker."

The two men carried the load across the site together while talking about football, kids, weekend plans, and just how good the cold beer at the end of the day would taste. Across the yard, one of the reps glanced up from his clipboard.

"Huh... Looks like Ohio's getting him just in time."

"I guess so..."

Joe adjusted the lumber on his shoulder and laughed at something one of the other workers said. The sound blended effortlessly with the rest of the crew as they disappeared into the noise of the job site.

The heat was getting to Franco, as a construction worker he barely had any time to relax. Always on the next project, always on the move– his existence was exhausting. He had been in construction since he was old enough to get a job. 16 years old, but back then he just worked in reception. Now he was on the field and salaried, but that didn't mean he hated his life any less. He had not grown into a man that he hoped he would, despite being quite strong from the nearly 35 years of work he wasn't the most attractive. Facial features that didn't make the most sense, a soft non existent jaw, and teeth that were more than a few steps away from perfect. His body ached like hell constantly, tinnitus and back pain had been constants in his life for more than a decade. 

He stumbled into the small mobile breakroom, the AC his savior from the sweltering heat that only seemed to get hotter each year. He gulped down as much water as he possibly could as a younger guy, Tristan, watched him. Tristan tried to not show judgement, but his eyes betrayed him. He was a new hire, and in Franco’s eyes he was… okay. Franco seemed to not get along with any of the new people, especially Tristan. Although deep down he knew it was out of jealousy. Tristan; the fresh kind handsome face.

/masculinization, nerd to jock, gay to straight,

Kevin was a fat short gay guy living in rural America, god did he hate it. He couldn't find a single person that was into him. Chelsea, his best friend, on the other hand was a beautiful woman that got men easily, but no one knew how to please her.

As she was doomscrolling tiktok she got an ad for some sort of mouth spray that promised to seduce anyone and make them act how you want them to. Of course she thought it was some gimmick but for some reason she felt incredibly compelled to buy it.

The next week she set up a hangout with Kevin. As soon as they saw eachother, Chelsea launched onto him. Kevin gasped as his friend greeted him with a kiss.

"What the hell Chelsea?"

"What's wrong babe? You usually love it when I kiss you there"

He felt dizzy, babe? But he was gay. He held his head in his hand for a second as memories forced themselves into his brain, specifically of Chelsea as his girlfriend.

He looked down at her as a mischievous grin spread across her face, god she was beautiful. He took her into an embrace as she continued to kiss him.

"You're so handsome, babe" his face reformed itself as he became taller, having to bend down for Chelsea to kiss him. His fat melted away as his jawline showed for the first time in years, becoming more square and attractive. His adam's apple jutted out as his voice dropped, he let out a rumbling moan as it did.

"Fuck babe, what are you doing to me" Kev muttered through stiffled breaths, his voice sexy and raspy.

"Im just trying to please my perfect man" she said, as he started to take lead, wrapping his arms around her like he had done it so many times before.

He took off his shirt as he exploded with muscle, he deserved it after all, spending all of his time in the gym. His pecs morphed into a perfect set of juicy slabs of meat as Chelsea trailed down his body, making sure to take extra time licking and sucking on his nipples. She gasped as he grabbed her ass.

"You like that?" He said, still breathing heavily. She looked up at the 6'5" adonis in front of her as his muddy eyes turned blue and his greasy hair became dirty blonde.

"Fuck me..." she whiapered under her breath, shocked by how well the spray had worked.

He chuckled as his appendage grew longer, his abs defining themselves as his fat completely evaporated. Leaving him with a perfect muscular body.

"Come here bitch, ill show you what a real man feels like."

He said as he flipped her around, pushing her against the wall. He spit on his large hands as he started to massage his 18 inch thick member that was already dripping in pre.

Her panties already off as he started slowly. She gasped as it full went in.

"I bet im the biggest you'll ever have slut." He said as he smacked her ass.

Turns out though, he was just doing it as a prank. Making fun of me for being fat and gross especially compared to his godly self. I just ran away crying.

The next morning on my walk to work I saw a shop I hadn’t seen there before. When I went inside, the lady at the counter asked if I was okay, she said I didn’t look like I was, and I told her the story of the previous night. She told me “he may have looks but you have kindness. you deserve to take his muscles and looks. someone as nice as you deserves them more.” and then told me to grab a wishing stone on the house.

I thought nothing of it but kept in my pocket thinking of what she said. I wished I could have his beautiful perfect pecs and biceps. His perfect abs and luscious long hair. Suddenly, I felt every step getting heavier when I was walking. My legs felt huge

I felt like everything in my body was stretching weirdly and stopped in a nearby restaurant bathroom. When I looked into the mirror I didn’t see myself. I saw HIM.

I was him. The perfect man. Now I go to the gym as him and pose and flaunt this new body while he’s stuck in my old body.

I laugh at him now. He deserves it. I wonder if the woman at the shop put some kind of spell on him cuz he’s ALWAYS working out in my old body but he never loses weight or gains muscles. He just stays fat.

I’ve gained so much confidence in this body it’s crazy. I wonder if I could get him in my old body to worship his old body. Slap him around a little and make him my bitch. I follow him into the locker room and make him a fake deal. I tell him, worship your old body, suck your old dick and swallow. Take every kick and slap I give you and I’ll take out the wishing stone and wish to go back to the way things were.

I’ve never seen such an eager fat man sucking a cock before. I have to admit it was so much fun to slap the old me around. I hit him so hard as he worshipped every inch of my body. My biceps, my armpits, my pecs. They’re all mine now. When he was done swallowing my load and begging me to go back to his old body I just laughed.

Nope. This feels right now. Him, my submissive bitch. And me, the superior alpha muscle man. He still worships me every day at the gym and I let him suck my dick. Not for free anymore though he gives me $100 dollars each time.

I shouldn't have opened my mouth. All I had to do was just walk away, and I'd have been fine. Now, It takes 3 showers a day, and a can of Axe a week, just to control the apocalyptic funk of athlete that pours from my pits... and feet... ok, ok I just stink, ok?! And its all because I tried to stop Pops, a local Gym Owner, from bullying one of his regulars.

The massive man was absolutely raging, as he berated a Jock for skipping sessions, despite the young man explaining desperately that he couldn't miss any more assignments or he'd lose his scholarship. It didn't seem to quell Pops's anger, as I watched the man drag the boy to a bench, and force him to lift rep after rep, until the Jock was panting, begging for a break, promising not to miss any more sessions. 

I'd been walking on the treadmill the whole time, and decided to get involved. My first mistake. Walking up to Pops, I cleared my throat, and told him to lay off, that clearly the Jock was exhausted. Pops grabbed my collar and hoisted me up off the ground, before I could react, his face nearly against mine as he went off, first about my nosing about, then about how ridiculously thin I am. I stammered, my legs dangling, until Pops put me down, and smirked.

"You know, a little meat on those bones wouldn't hurt. Maybe with a few pounds, those big, sweaty dawgs you've got wouldn't look so clownish!"

My jaw dropped, a squirmed under his gaze, as a shiver went down my spine, and a dull, warm itch began in my feet. I don't know where he'd gotten the idea that my feet were clownish, I'm 5'7" with size 9.5s! But suddenly, my sneakers felt cramped, warm, with a dull humid dampness making it feel as if I'd stuffed my foot into a wet towel.

Then, I groaned, as a sharp pain shot down my ankles, and my sneakers burst open, revealing wide, reeking Jock-feet, at least size 13. A dense funk rose, and I gagged, the intense reek of Athlete poured from my torn shoes. Pops laughed heartily, then sneered. 

"And those pits! You'd think with hairy, sweaty pits like those, you'd be top of the roster! Not even Big Billy has pits as bad as yours! There's a bull inside you, just waiting to come out!"

Again, that cold shiver ran down my back, and my armpits felt as if fire ants were biting them. Hundreds of itchy bumps formed, then, hair sprouted, filling in and dampening until the stink of the locker room oozed out from them. I whimpered as I caught the scent. Looking up at Pops, I begged.

"Please! Don't do this! You gotta undo this! I'm not a Jock!"

Pops laughed, taking both my shoulders in his massive rough hands, and pushed me down onto a bench, taking my arms and forcing them up onto the bar. My pits were fully on display as he growled.

"Lift. Don't stop until I come back, or those pits and feet will be the least of your worries."

I believed him, and tried to pull the bar down, barely moving the weights. Pops facepalmed, moved to a backpack next to a mountainous young brute lifting what had to be the weight of a small car. He fished out a protein shake, pressed the nozzle to my lips, and forced me to guzzle a few mouthfuls, pulling it away as I heard my stomach gurgle. 

I hiccuped, then burped, as my body seemed to warm, sweat forming, soaking down my shirt. Then, muscle began to swell under my skin, not huge, round bulk, but enough to look as if I'd been hitting the gym for several months, not days. When it settled, I must've gained 10 lbs, all of it hard muscle. When I pulled the bar down this time, it wasn't easy, but I wasn't lifted off the seat this time. Again and again I tested my new size, and Pops grinned. giving my thicker shoulder a punch. 

"I'll make an athlete out of you yet. Like it or not, you're gonna be one of Pops's boys! No one mouth's off to pop, unless they've earned it here at my gym! got it!"

Honestly dude? I kinda brought this on myself. Definitely coulda gone a little softer on my bro... I mean boyfriend, but like, come the fuck on! He came home every fuckin' day from practice, kicking off his rank shoes, and stomped all over the house leaving nasty sweaty footprints on the hardwood bro! Then he fuckin' thinks it’s cute to sneak up and hug me with his soaked tank top, as if his funk wouldn't ruin my clothes! What the fuck!

Ok, ok, looking back after everything that happened, maybe I shouldn't have called him a Nasty Sweatrag, and told him to soak himself in bleach next time... Especially not in front of the creepy Goth kid, who happens to be his little brother!

One moment, I was just shouting at him, really laying it on him, sick of the sweat and the time he spent with his bros. I guess I was a bit jealous, but damn dude! I'm his bro! I mean, his girlfriend... or at least I was, until I made him cry and his brother glared from the corner of the room, seething.

In that split second before my stomach heaved, I knew I'd fucked up bad. Like, really bad bro! The world fuckin spun, I hacked and spluttered, then everything went black. I woke up later that day in a bedroom that was distinctly mine, but totally different. When I sat up and noticed my B-Cups were flat, solid, and square, my nipples small and pointing downward with the new bulk, I knew I was fucking JACKED brah! I, I mean I was fucked... this is a bad thing damn it! I'm not some lumbering meathead! fuck!

Anyway, I tossed my sheets, and noticed the rest of me. I was definitely taller, with big, clammy feet like my best bro... I mean boyfriend's, dangling off the end of my bed. My legs were thick, solid and capable of carrying the added bulk I'd suddenly packed on. The entire room reeked of humid funk. There were dirty clothes all over the floor by the hamper, battered, worn old sneakers and cleats by door in a heap, and my Vanity had become a fuckin' beast of a gaming rig dude! Fuck yeah! Wait... no, I don't game damn it! I'm not a fuckin' dude!

the rest of the room had changed similarly. Everything that could have pointed to a female living here, was now distinctly male. And that of a Big, Dumb, Sweatrag of a dude, as I'd called my bro earlier. However... it didn't bother me. I could barely smell it over the pungent fog that came from my muscled-up body. I was swole! And kinda gross dude, not gonna lie... But like, I can't fuckin help it! It’s like there's a fuckin' furnace inside me, burning up everything it’s got to keep me pumped and riled, on edge so bad I can't stop myself from fidgeting. my hands just, do their thing dude! One minute I'm lookin' in the mirror, the next I'm groping my fuckin Rod... I, woah... ok, it might be getting worse! I meant my fuckin' cock! I, I mean dick! Fucking damn it!

You know what, whatever. like I said, one minute I'm standing there, the next I've got my dick in my hand, or groping my fuckin nuts like those behemoths at the gym! Or it'll slide up my shirt, lifting it up while I don't even realize it. There’re all kinds of fuckin' weird dude things happening, and I can't stop any of it! My bod fuckin does as it wants if I'm not actively fighting it! The worst, and I mean it, the absolute fuckin worst, is when I've just scratched my junk good, and suddenly, like fuckin instinct, I'm sniffin' my fuckin fingers like a damn animal! What the fuck dude! All the fuckin' bros say its natural, that its some caveman shit... I might believe them, because it happens with my pits too! Just, standing there hittin' up one of the pretty chicks... I... I mean uh... my old friends... and then wham! sweaty pit fingers all up in my grill!

My Bro's little brother, the creepy Goth kid caught up with me when I'd all but sprinted the few blocks to his and my bro.. I mean my fuckin' boyfriend's house. I was just coming to terms with the fact that I'd hauled ass down the street, half naked, when He opened the door, and busted out laughing. Even when I had him dangling off the floor by his hoodie, threatening to squash his scrawny little pipsqueak ass, he cackled, before his eyes flared, and in an instant, his hand was out, my nipple in his fingers, as a cold pain flashed over my chest, and I looked down to see my nip was pierced, a silver barbell forcing it to stick out, perked up and stiff.

My jaw fell, and I dropped his ass, trying to form words as this wild, aggression filled me. The fuckin' goth punk crossed his arms and smirked, just as the piercings, or rather, the hex he'd put on them, erupted to life. I felt as if my brain was being squeezed from the inside, as if this fuckin' loser had his hands on it, wringing it out like a wet towel. I clutched my head, stumbling until I hit the couch, and sat, my legs splaying wide to give my fuckin' junk some room, like any dude does, when I felt the pressure lesson, and a strange, warmth began to flow from the back of my head, down my spine, and settled into my fuckin balls dude! It was like having all your smarts and who you are, drained down and stored where it belongs bro! Brains in your fuckin balls!

Fuck... no wait! He said if I couldn't fight it, if I didn't learn what it was like being an athletic dude, I'd lose everything I was, and end up just another sweaty meathead, lumbering around the gym, lifting big, gettin fucking swole, and plowing my way through chicks until graduation! I had to fight it; I couldn't give up. And my bro wasn't fuckin' helping!

He was always a fuckin' Golden Retriever, happy and dopey and dumb, I shoulda realized he was a good dude and I was lucky, before I'd been Bro'd up and brain squeezed out! Now, my fuckin' bro loves taking me to the gym, putting this body through its paces, even throwing fuckin shade when he got a whiff of my fuckin' pits! He laughs, but dude? I'm fuckin ripe, always am since his little brother turned up the juice and made sure I fit right in with the bros. My bro... boyfriend... finds it hilarious when he catches me flexing in the mirror while pumpin' out reps, or when I have to peel off my tank cus it got too damn soaked! Just look at my fuckin boxer briefs bro! See that sweat? Thats a fuckin' Man's sweat! I'm a fuckin beast bro!

“Oh, come on Chuck! This’ll be my second time! You can’t keep forcing me to work another 40 years, just to make it to retirement and do it all again! It’s not yours or my fault that there aren’t enough young folk to take over our jobs! Hell, maybe if we paid a bit more, the few of them out there would apply!”

“It’s Lieutenant Roth, Billy. Now go change out of that equipment and take a shower. Whatever this remote does to strip away all those years, it sure does leave a young man ripe!”

“Don’t call me Billy! I haven’t been Billy in 30 years! Its Bill Damn it! And how am I supposed to explain this, again! to David?! You know he’s not into, well… this!”

“Put your shirt down Billy and quit your complaining. We’re doing something different this time, changing things up, trying something new. See, we couldn’t afford to pay higher wages all these years, because we’ve been stashing extra money away, for a new program. This remote can do a lot more than just wipe away years, Billy. The company has a whole app-store full of features, but they cost a hell of a lot. We only had enough for 2 new features, and we think it’ll really help solve this town’s aging population issue.”

“Wha… what the hell are you saying? What do you mean, something new?! Chuck, dude… you’re seriously starting to crack! What the fuck does any of this have to do with David?! And who is, “We”?!”

“I’m only going to tell you this once, son. It’s Lieutenant Roth. Now, I guess there’s no beating around the bush with you young-bloods. So I’ll get right to it. “We” is me, the Governor, and the Town Board. We investigated every possible fix, and it comes down to this. All the youth are moving out in droves, going to college, or fleeing to the city for excitement, leaving us aging folk to do the hard work around town. With the remote able to take years off a person, we’ve decided that all our current retirees, in every department, will be regressed, and the new feature we purchased will ensure you all follow your new, youthful instincts, providing us with a full generational bump in population.

You will be the hot-blooded virile stud you were way back in the day; you remember? Except this time, just as David isn’t attracted to this prime of your life look, YOU won’t be attracted to David, or any man for that matter. You see, we need all the help we can get, so with this little app, you’ll be chasing pretty women, and will certainly end up settling down, once one of them catches. Ah, by the look on your face, you know exactly what I mean.

Good, because you and the rest of the retirees are going to have your hands full, working these jobs getting paid just enough for a double-wide and a truck, leaving a trail of gals before you settle in with one, and have a whole mess of kids. "

“Ch… Lieutenant, sir… Wha… you’re insane dude! Fuckin’ totally cracked! You hear yourself! You can’t do this! I can’t be… I can’t chase… I don’t… don’t like…. Fuck… fuck dude… what the fuck are you doing?! Quit pointin’ that shit at me bro! My.. my head!”

“Don’t worry son, I’ll let you off the hook for all that mouthing off. It’s got to be rough having your brain completely flipped inside out, dumped out and filled with everything you need to be a, productive, member of society. Isn’t that right Billy?”

“Wha.. Oh, hey Lieutenant! So uh, is it ok if I head off to the showers and hit the road? Kind of a slow night huh sir? If it’d be alright, I want to go down to the Strip and hit the bar. The dudes and I figured we’d start the weekend early, ya know? Gotta get get some tail on lock before the storms hit. Thinkin’ I might run into Becka too, you know, from Thornton Stables? God she’d look real pretty, all knocked up good n’ proper!”

“Oh alright son. Go ahead, take the night off. But you’re on call. Got it! One or two beers, maybe a shot, take some cash and buy the lass one of those fruity drinks, and you treat her like a lady, young man. Got it?”

“Got it Dude! I mean Lieutenant! I’ll make a lady outa her yet! Thanks for the money too! Ya know how rough it is on the town’s wages! Although you and the Board seem to be doin’ alright. I hope I can get to where you are, Sir!”

A bully, thinking he is better then anyone. Claiming to be the alpha male on campus. I hated him, yet I was drawn to him as well. I heard the rumors about how he fucked every night, usually another girl. I also heard he doesn’t differentiate between a guy or a girl, as long as he can ram his cock inside it.

That would be me, I dreamed about how his cock would be. One night i accidentally bumped into him, on his way to his dorm room. He could see he was completely smashed, too much to drink really. I walked him to his room, but the moment he opened it he pushed me in. His shirt was out in no time, as his he pulled out his already rock hard cock from his pants. Looking at me, ordering me to start sucking. He called me a good fag when I opened my mouth and began sucking. His cock thick, and also big. His hairy bushy crotch smelling like sweat and cum. His hands on the back of your head, he just thrusts, skull fucking me. The way I felt his cock deep down my throat nearly had me throwing up, I gagged as he told me to be quiet. The smell of alcohol on his breath so intense.

He ordered me to get naked and lay in the bed, crawling on top of me as I did. He grabbed lube and covered his veiny meat with it. He rubbed it against my hole, as he said he almost didn’t have a hole to fuck tonight. He penetrated my hole, as deep as he could get it. He got rough right away, saying how tight I feel around his big cock. I could feel it getting bigger, it just reached deeper as he pounded me.

His muscled arm wrapped around my neck, I could feel it. He cock felt so good, and wham… just penetrated my second hole. The way it felt made my eyes roll back, my body trembling and I moaned loudly. He moaned as well, the head of his cock kept penetrating my second hole. Then it just latched on. The grip on his hard cock tightened, he moaned and kept going hard on me. Telling me how perfectly tight I feel, how my hole is milking his big alpha cock. His balls slapping against my ass, I could feel his hot sweaty body shocking. He said to get ready, for he is about to breed me.

The moment his cock again penetrated my second hole he began cumming in me, but in that moment I could feel a shift in me. My second hole completely locked in his cock, the grip so tight he could not pull out. In that moment I could just feel my ass beginning to suck him there. He moaned, his over sensitive cock getting the pleasure of being really milked.

The heat from his body radiating through his cock in me, his warm cum filling me up. His balls emptied out. As my hole kept milking him for more, his heavy body began to feel lighter on me. His moans beginning to chance into a higher and higher pitch. The big muscled arm around my neck beginning to be thin.

The moment my hole finally let go of him, and he rolled off from my body I saw. His entire physique changed, a small hairless twink lay there. Not a hint of masculinity to be found, and that big cock looking like a little nub.

It was then I looked at my own arms, veins across it and a thick slab of muscle and hair on them. Looking down I saw two big pecs, and abs. Lower hang a very thick and long piece of meat, I looked as it swelled and grew. It got thicker and erect in seconds. I looked again at the twink in my bed, his little ass looking so inviting. I crawled on bed, aligned my cock and pushed in.