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This is a follow up to FML: Fraternize as selected by you for my 2,500 subscriber special. It took longer than expected and had a few rewrites, but I promised you all this would be the next story released. Hopefully it is worth the wait.
In all my years at this university I had never seen anything like it. Week after week students were seeming to disappear. You expect to see some flux in enrollment as students change schedules and drop classes. But these students weren’t removing themselves from classes. It was as though they were never enrolled at all. Initially within the department we all had our pet theories on the matter. But in a few weeks it was clear where they were going. It isn’t hard to notice a lot more students milling around the business campus, or the sudden discussion within administration of expanding the personal training and physiology tracts. We were all just left wondering why.
I finally hit my breaking point near the end of the semester when one of my more promising students disappeared from my roster. I asked the other pre-law professors and sure enough, they couldn’t find a trace of him ever taking a class in the department. However, I did find one lead. One of my students must have heard me discussing it with the TA’s and said that he was a member of a fraternity on campus. I groaned at the thought of having to trek out there, but I knew it was the quickest way to get some closure. Against my better judgment, I headed to the Eta Psi Rho house.
Every step there filled me with dread. I hate to confess it, but I had once attended this same university, and yes, even tried to join a fraternity. It had been such a long time ago, but I could still remember the cruel ways that my brothers had mocked, berated, and punished pledges. Fraternities we’re nothing but a blight on this campus that produced people like… well people like the man who greeted me out front.
Honestly. Back in our days at least we had the good sense to drag our brothers inside. It’s a shock campus police had not raided the place yet. I knelt down. He reeked of booze and sweat. His snore was almost deafening. Even if his brothers wouldn’t help him, I couldn’t leave him out here. I pestered the young man awake. Groggily, he rose to his feet, stumbling over his feet and his words. Immediately he clapped me on the back, thanking his ‘bro’ for the help. I tried to brush him aside, but his firm grip ushered me inside as he muttered about being late for class. I’m surprised he was still enrolled. Regardless, he helped me get inside and one of his ‘bruhs’ tried pointing me in the right direction where I could find my lost student. I began wandering the halls, looking for any sign of the young man, but they were eerily empty inside. What was I saying, the young men were all in their classes surely. Still, when from down the hall I suddenly heard, “I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” chanted in unison, I was a bit shocked. I walked up to the door and peered in, hoping to get better directions. I was met with a group of young men, glassy eyed, staring deep into a static filled television.
I walked in front of one young man, trying to get his attention. It was like I wasn't there as he stared right through me. It was no use, and the sound and light in the room was giving me a headache. I was about to leave when suddenly, from the TV, a clear command:
Brothers are lean and muscular.
Brothers are lean and muscular, the men all repeated. I nearly jumped out of my skin as the young man before me changed. His skin rippled for a moment, as though a chill went down his spine. Then, he began to swell. It came in bubbles, uneven and tumorous. But each patch began to combine and normalize with those around it until it suddenly stopped and a different man sat before me. At least, that's what I told myself as I bolted from the room.
Lost in the maze of corridors, I was just following the signs to the nearest emergency exit. Something was wrong here. Young men don't just- just GROW. The sign directed me rounded the corner into the laundry room and more pressingly, into a stranger. I started apologizing before I paused. I assumed there had to be a mistake.
The stranger had a familiar air to him. When he had been my student, the young man I knew was clean shaven, a bit shy and reserved in class, but smart as a whip and friendly. The man in front of me was confident. He shot me a smirk as he greeted me, ‘dabbing me up’ and calling me his bro. Up close he was overwhelming. I had known a brother to miss showers but it smelled like he hadn’t rinsed off in a week. The smell of cologne did nothing to hide the alcohol on his breath and the funk emanating from him. And while I could tell he used to be fit this was absurd. He looked chiseled from a magazine cover! The vacant expression was a far cry from the law student I knew. If it weren’t for his face and eyes, I doubt I would have even recognized him.
Regardless of his appearance, I started talking, pleading with him to tell me what was happening. What was happening in this house? Who was responsible for the poor boys in that room? Why did he throw away a bright future for this? But my words never seemed to get through. He pleasantly smiled and nodded, but gave canned answers about ‘brotherhood’. I really should have made for the exit in front of me but I was past the point of logic.
I finally shouted, “I just don’t understand why you would throw your life away for this!”
“This is my life,” he droned, “I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.”
That same mantra as those young men. I took a breath before continuing. God this place was rank. “Listen son, I know about the brotherhood and this fraternity. But you have to see something wrong is going on here. What were those boys doing in that room?"
"Oh the pledgies? Yeah, initiation is next week, got to make sure they stay in line over the finish line, ya know what I'm saying?"
"Someone's got to stop this. I'm going to the Dean, he'll be able to do something. This fraternity can't operate like this!"
The toothy smile fell, “You’ve got to be loyal to your bros. After all, we are made to be loyal to the frat.” His tone was suddenly flat as he began inching closer. In one swift motion he removed his tank top, flashing all his muscles. In one more, his shorts were on the ground. As he got closer, the heat in the room intensified.
It was getting hard to think, I was feeling so woozy. This bizarre display had gotten far beyond my scope as an educator. I tried to excuse myself, “I think I’d better go, this was a waste of- ” but he was suddenly upon me. I hadn’t realized I had backed myself into a corner.
"Pledge, come here!" and my mind froze.
As much as I wanted to scream and run, I could feel an unnamed power he held over me as his command to stop burrowed into my brain.
"You sound like you were in there for a bit. Let's see how much you got trained. What's a good punishment... ah. Pledge, sniff."
I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to closer to the source of his musk. I tried to resist, but something primal drove my nose in and gave a hesitant huff of pure frat bro. I was loosing any… any restraint… left. I couldn’t… resist… my… my…
He smirked, "Bro, what was that? Come on, Pledge, sniff!"
“Yes bruh.” It slipped so easily out, almost as easily as the drool from my mouth. My face crinkled as I shoved my face in his nasty pit. I couldn’t think about it. I sniffed and while I knew it was gross, it all felt fuzzy and warm in my head.
“Oh, you must have been in with them a while. Dude, we can't have you sharing fraternity secrets. Don't worry though, we may be able to save you yet. Come with me.”
My brain only processed the command as I stumbled after him back through the halls. We turned into a familiar room. I stood, head spinning, as he fiddled with a TV for a second and sat himself down.
“I think that the guys won't mind a double dose. Sit next to me.”
“Yeaaah, surrre thing,” I slurred, stumbling into my seat. His firm arm felt nice around me. He held me firmly as he pressed play on the remote and a VHS tape whirred to life. There was a disorientating strobe of colors that left me a bit dazed before starting up into an intro. I was confused at first what the tape was talking about. I wasn’t here to join the fraternity and learn more about a life of brotherhood. The opposite almost. I tried to stand, but his arm held me firmly in place. I started to protest, but the voice sounded so insistent, and it was so confusing to watch. It reminded me of something, some tape I had seen long ago. It was like slipping back into an old pair of pants, something just fit. Maybe I hear him out? Then, the tone switched.
Welcome to the first day of your new life. You have been selected to become one of the few. One of the elite. You feel honored to have been selected.
“I feel honored to be one of the elite,” every voice in the room rang out in unison.
An old pride rose in my chest. I was selected. I was better. I would be in Eta Psi Rho.
This important decision has been made for you. You must accept our guidance. The frat knows best.
“The frat knows best,” we all repeated.
You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.
“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.” It felt good as it slipped out.
Good. Brothers, step out. We have it from here.
My former student brother released my shoulder, stood quickly and left the room. But I didn’t want to leave anymore. I was to watch the tape.
Let’s start with an attitude adjustment. It is important for bros to be bros. Bros are relaxed and carefree.
“Bros are relaxed and carefree.”
I hadn’t realized how much tension I had been holding in. But as I repeated the words, a wave of relaxation rolled down from my neck, through my shoulders, rippling through my arms and torso, all the way through my legs. I let out a satisfied sigh, leaning back into my seat.
Bros eat, sleep, workout, and hang together. Bros just want to spend time with their bros.
“Bros just want to spend time with their bro.”
All sense of time and obligation suddenly felt swirled in my head. I remembered that I was supposed to go, but it felt so distant. Instead, my mind filled with a schedule of work outs, parties, meals, and frat events. I couldn’t give my lecture tonight, I would miss chapter!
In a few short weeks you will be ready for brotherhood. But first, a reminder. You want to complete your pledge. You want to be a brother.
“I want to complete my pledge. I want to be a brother.”
That almost made sense. I wasn’t a pledge, I was too old. Or, I think I am? But quickly that logic was suppressed by something else. I wanted it. I wanted so badly to be a pledge.
The commands were starting to pick up speed.
A pledge does not think for himself. He follows his brothers’ orders and fits in.
“I follow my brothers’ orders and fit in. ”
Yeah, life is so much easier when I can just listen and follow. Let others make the decisions bro.
A pledge will do anything to become a brother.
“I will do anything to become a brother.”
God it felt so good to have it all sorted out.
Now, it is important to not just act like a brother. You need to look like a brother. Feel your body. Focus on it. Every frat bro's body is a temple. A temple prime for trashing. These next four years are the prime of your life. You will enjoy your college years.
That short phrase rushed through my body. An icy chill ran down my spine that froze me in place. My body felt tight as it slowly rewound itself. I felt young blood pulsing through my body as my muscles swelled, releasing the tension of muscle aches and cranky joints. Skin pulled tight against my muscles as years of work and stress smoothed over my body. Not a wrinkle, not a sag, not a follicle of body hair was left behind as I shed my 50’s for my 20’s. Then, all at once, a wave of testosterone washed over me. It was like puberty all over, as I broke out in a cold sweat that carried that young, masculine funk. My voice cracked and softened as I moaned, my cock was flush with hunger. The brain was in no state to resist as years of history were washed away under twenty-something hormones. Bruh, I could feel my brain unfurl and smooth out a bit too. For the first time in decades, I felt young, dumb, and so full of cum.
Brothers' muscles ache from years pushing it too hard in the gym. It feels good to push your body beyond its limits. Protein powder and energy drinks are the fuel that keep you lit. Bros are swole.
“Bros are swole.”
Any twink-ish hopes I had just developed were quickly dashed against pumping iron. I felt the ice melt as my body twisted under my skin and slowly began to sweat. My stomach began to fill as a familiar chalky taste crept up the back of my throat. Protein. A deep aching filled my body, yet it continued to pulse. The more it hurt, the more I wanted it. I watched as each muscle melted inside of me and reformed out of hardened steel.
Brothers know the power of their masculinity. They are not afraid to show off their bodies. It shows others who is in charge. Let weaker men worship you. Use them for your satisfaction. You will be dominant.
I will be dominant.
I rushed to take off my clothes. They suddenly felt so restricting. I thought back to my bro as he made me sniff his rank pits. The way I just complied to his commands. The gravity of his words. I wanted that. No, I deserved that. My brain filled with a rush of new desires. To walk into a room and see people turn. To be loud, to be seen, to be heard, to be felt. I wanted the thrill of the approach as I singled out the hottest body in the room and commanded them around like my bitch. I wanted to feel their desire flush as I roughly tossed them on my bed and pried my jeans off. I deserved their mouth, open and begging for my perfect cock. I earned their hole, clenched tight as they rode for dear life until I berried my seed deep in them. I claimed the cold wind on my skin, proud of a night of conquest as I stood nude at the window, hitting my vape. I could almost feel it. I could almost... smell it? I had lifted my arms above my head, and a smell rolled off my pits. Fuck, that was the smell he had. The smell of dominance. It was mine now. I took a victorious huff.
Finally, let's ensure you can always find what you need in Eta Psi Rho. Look around you at the bros in this room. You will stay together. You will serve each other. You love your bros.
I felt a swell of kinship in my chest. I wanted nothing more than to be a part of the brotherhood. To fucking dominate this school together. But suddenly there was a tension in the air. God, why were my bros so... hot? We had all been factory made to conquer but, something more held us together. There were a few seconds as we all waited for something to happen when, suddenly, the two bros next to me made the first move.
As the room devolved into chaos, the commands kept coming. We recited back diligently between sloppy kisses, deep moans, and grunts as we slid against each other's bodies. We listened but all waited for the command that would get us to cross the finish line.
You will keep it simple, keep it stupid.
“I will keep it simple, keep it stupid.”
My head felt like it was filled with fluff. No thoughts, just instinct.
You will listen to your pledge master, follow all he says.
“I will listen to my pledge master, follow all he says.”
It was so much easier to just trust my bros. Whatever they said went.
You will live for and serve your bros, live for and serve the frat.
“I will live for and serve my bros and the frat.”
I would do anything for my bros. Gotta keep ‘em happy.
What happens in the frat house stays in the frat house. No homo, bro.
I spit out the cock in my mouth as I kept railing the bro below me,
"No homo, bro!"
The frat is life.
“The frat is life.”
Perfect. We anticipate your full initiation. Cum.
Moans echoed through the halls as the tape ended.
A while passed before a door slamming shook me awake. An ache passed through me as I reached for the jug of water next to my bed. The buzz of pre-workout shook me awake. I was in my bedroom of the frat house. I was where I belonged. My big stood over my bed.
“Look at me,” my big said. My body turned to him and hit him with my cockiest smile. It felt good to obey my alpha bro.
The new man spoke, “Shit, that tape did a number on you. I don't know if we've ever inducted someone so old. How do you feel?”
“I feel relaxed and carefree, bruh,” I responded.
My bro slapped me upside the head, “Is that how you respond to your pledge master?”
Of course, how could I forget. I was so dumb sometimes, “Sorry. Good, Sir.”
His face lit up with glee, "Never get over that. Let’s see. Pledge, I brought home a twink for after the party tonight. Warm him up for me."
I felt my cock suddenly swell, rigid at attention. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
My pledge master whistled, “Dang, you know how to pick ‘em Skunk. He's no Long Leg, but he's up there. You picked out his pledge name yet?” I didn’t know his pledge name was skunk. But catching a whiff of myself as I scratched my head, guess it ran in the family.
“Well, if he’s going to keep acting like a smart ass, I’m thinking Prof.”
“Pfft, that’s hilarious,” my pledge master turned back to me, “One last question little bro. How do you feel about Eta Psi Rho?”
In an instant, an old mantra filled my mind, “I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” I droned.
When I told my fam I was goin' to Miami for college, they all said I'd regret it. And yeah, I guess it took some gettin' used to at first.
I remember showin' up to move-in day in jeans, sweatin' my ass off, totally soakin' through my shirt, haha. But my roomie came in clutch. He's been in Florida for, like, his whole life, so he gave me some of his stuff to borrow: tank tops, shorts, slides, Miami gear.
I was walkin' around campus cooler than ever. But damn, bro, that heat is something else. I'd come back to the dorm and be too tired to think, hahaha. My roomie and me just chilled out a lot, talked sports, that kinda stuff. Even started hitting the gym together - his idea. And lemme tell you, the AC in there? Fuckin' heavenly, dude.
Now, between all the workouts and the heat, I'm always sweatin'. Honestly...I kinda like it. Like, I smell good. Sorta...musky? I dunno, but I just stopped wearin' deodorant altogether. 'Cause if I'm gonna get drenched anyway, why bother, y'know? And doesn't sweat, like, keep you cool or somethin'? Yeah, so it all works out...
I gotta few minutes before class, right? Think I'm gonna go send my roomie a progress pic:
Ben hovered outside the corner shop, fidgeting with his hoodie strings. Today felt different, charged with a strange energy he couldn’t quite place.
His mate, Jake, swaggered over, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “Oi, Ben, you ever tried one of these?” Jake handed him a tightly rolled blunt, its scent tingling Ben’s senses with its earthy pungency. Without thinking, Ben took it, his hand trembling slightly.
As he took a cautious puff, the world around him blurred and intensified. Heat surged through his veins, each heartbeat echoing like a drum. His skin tingled, every cell buzzing with potential.
His frame began to shift, stretching and expanding. Arms that were once skinny swelled with surprising heft, his chest broadening under the fabric of his hoodie. It clung snugly to his developing form, showcasing the transformation. Abs rippled with newfound strength, pressing tight against his joggers.
A wave of musk enveloped him, a heady mix of sweat and raw masculinity, intoxicating in its intensity. Rather than shying away, Ben inhaled deeply, savoring every note.
Beneath his waistband, he felt an exhilarating pressure. His cock and balls swelled, growing heavier and more prominent, a throbbing force that demanded his attention. Every pulse was a declaration of his new, potent vitality.
With each drag of the blunt, his thoughts shifted. Homework? Video games? Nah, that wasn’t him. His head buzzed with new urges. Partying, pulling, living large in the open air where anyone could see him. Every sensation turned him on, amplifying his raw, untamed energy.
Ben’s tongue darted out, tasting the air, an involuntary smirk curling his lips. No longer the timid boy hiding in the shadows, he was a king of the street, hot, dumb, and ready for action.
His hoodie hung open, proudly displaying his chiseled torso, the chilly breeze licking across his skin as he strutted forward. Each step sent pleasurable tingles, every sway exuding confidence and power.
"Yo, Jake, got another blunt?" he quipped, his voice a deep drawl, laden with mischief.
Not waiting for an answer, Ben leaned in closer, eyes sparking with desire and authority. Boldly, he pulled Jake in by the collar for a lingering snog, his hands exploring with a firm, commanding grip.
Breaking the kiss, he whispered with a smirk, "Let's have some fun, yeah?" His tone brooked no argument, the kingly chav ready to claim the night.
i would love to become a football jock.. all muscular, horny, dumb, alpha.. the brotherhood of jocks and bros
I love cleats .. I wish I could just try some on...
I slipped into the locker room like I didn’t belong, because I didn’t. My sneakers squeaked on tile still damp with sweat and something thicker. The air was heavy, suffocating, soaked in days of unwashed socks, jockstraps, and testosterone. My cock twitched before I even saw them.
The cleats were by the bench. Still warm. Still wet. Black, beaten, with a yellowed sole that looked chewed by use. I knelt and picked one up, hands shaking. Brought it close.
The smell hit me like a punch. Thick. Cheesy. Hot. The kind of stink that clung to the back of your tongue and stayed. I gasped, instantly hard. My eyes rolled back as I pressed my face in deeper, nose grinding into the crusted insole. The sweat was alive, sharp and tangy like it had fermented. I moaned, shame burning as I huffed deeper.
Then… footsteps.
I froze.
He stepped into view. Towering. Shirtless. His torso was slick with sweat, veins crawling across thick arms. I tried to move. I tried to stop sniffing. But I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t obey.
“Don’t stop.” His voice was low. Lazy. Cruel. “That one’s mine.”
A low whine escaped me.
“You like that smell? Course you do. Got a few... gifts in it.”
I whimpered, my cock rock-hard in my pants. He stepped closer. The heat radiating off him was suffocating. His bulge strained in soaked compression shorts. I couldn’t look away.
“Take your pants off. Now.”
I stripped. No hesitation. My knees wobbled as I stood bare, leaking. My cock throbbed in the thick locker room air.
“Put ‘em on.”
I slid the cleats onto my bare feet. The moment they touched skin, heat shot up my legs. My toes curled, heels locking into place. I gasped—muscle packed onto my calves, thighs swelling, skin slick with sudden sweat. My stance widened, body adjusting instinctively to the added weight. I felt... stronger.
“Yeah, bro,” he grinned, stepping closer, body radiating control. “Bet that’s makin’ you feel real good.”
His fingers brushed my cock.
I jerked, moaning.
He didn't stroke, just teased. Lazy, cruel touches that had my hips grinding forward, my breath ragged. I was dripping, every nerve lit up, body begging for release.
“Wanna cum, bro?”
“Y-yeah,” I gasped, eyes fluttering.
“Tough.” He taunted grazing the tip of my cock like electric pleasure.
He stepped back. My hips thrust forward desperately, chasing friction, but found only air.
“Nuh-uh. You don’t cum 'til the team says you can. You know why?”
He held up a black plastic jock cup. Greasy. Fused with old sweat, yellowed on the inside. It reeked. My knees buckled just smelling it.
“Because this is yours now. This is where your cock goes. Forever.”
He shoved it against me. It sucked my cock in, fast and wet. I screamed. The cup sealed to my groin, hissing, pulsing with heat. The walls hugged my shaft, twitching, squeezing, edging, like it was alive and it’s only purpose was to keep me on the brink of an orgasm, never enough to cum.
I wanted to reach down to tear it off. My hands wouldn’t move.
“That’s the dumbcup. You don’t take it off. You don’t touch your cock. You don’t need to. You’re a jock now.”
My back arched. My spine cracked, lengthening. Shoulders widened, chest exploded with new mass—pecs thick and heavy with sweat. My neck bulged. My brain ached.
“F-fuck… wait…”
“Too late, bro. Say goodbye.”
Thoughts spilled like water. My name, gone. Books, forgotten. My degree? What was a degree? My mind fogged over, the air inside my skull filling with gym funk, locker room chants, grunts and moans and the rhythm of my bros fucking me on repeat.
“Say it.” He taunted.
“I’m a… dumb jock,” I panted.
He grabbed my head. Forced me to look up planting a rough kiss on my lips as if to inflict one last ounce of control over the free will I had left.
“Say it right.”
“I’m a dumb, horny bro toy. My cock ain’t mine. My brain ain’t mine. I belong to the team.”
My voice was deeper. Slower. Thicker. My jaw felt stronger. My tongue… hungrier.
He unzipped. “Then prove it.”
I opened wide. His dick was soaked in sweat, thick and veiny. I took it without hesitation. The taste hit me like a drug. salty, hot, claiming. I moaned around it. He spat down into my mouth. I swallowed, instinctively.
Everything went still.
And just like that... I was a jock. Always had been. Friendly. Dumb. Muscular. Trapped. Just another cum dump for the team. Anything for my bros.
Jay said, his voice firm and steady, the way a coach’s should be. As a 40 year old gym coach, he had his habits when it came to training guys, helping them get to their physical fitness goals. He looked at the guy he was training as gritted his teeth and pulled the barbell up with a shaky breath.
“Lift.”
The weight came down again. Jay rolled his shoulders, watching closely, his own muscles twitching from habit.
“Lift.”
He blinked. Something felt off. He had said that word a million times, but this time, it echoed strangely in his head, stretching out—
“Liftttt—”
A rush of cold air hit him. His breath stuck into the black balaclava he was wearing. His gloved hands gripped a metal bar..
He was on a ski lift.
His body felt different—lean, light, skinny, a comfortable flex beneath sleek layers of ski gear. His boots rested on the bar, expensive and pristine. A helmet pressed snugly against his head.
And next to him sat someone else. Another guy, equally sleek, equally expensive-looking. His ski goggles reflected the bright winter sun, but his lips curled into a knowing smirk.
“You alright, bro?” the guy asked, his voice teasing, slow and hot. Seemingly young and teenage-ish. “You zoned out for a sec.”
Jay- or was it Jayden swallowed. The guy’s voice was familiar. This whole scene was familiar. He wasn’t just on any ski lift. He was on his ski lift.
Memories trickled in—winter trips, après-ski parties, Miami beaches, yachts, fast cars. He wasn’t a gym coach. He was…
A rich 20-year-old ski boy. Jayden.
And the guy next to him? Jayden knew him too. Knew his name. Knew the way his smirk turned into a breathless laugh when they were racing down the ski slopes.
Knew the way they flirted, although they weree supposed to be fully straight.
Jaydens lips parted, a cocky smirk forming on their own.
“Guess I was just distracted,” he said, his voice smooth, rich, young. “Probably by you.”
The guy chuckled, shifting closer.
“Good,” he murmured. “We got the whole lift ride to get even more distracted.”
He turned toward the guy next to him, the heat between them cutting through the crisp mountain air. The dude was hot—really hot. Not because he had a beautiful face (he did), but because he looked so handsome in his ski gear. You couldn’t even see his face behind his balaclava, helmet & ski mask. But Jayden remembered tons of nights with his bro, sucking it and taking it without any hesitation.
The guy’s gloved hand shifted, resting casually on Jayden’s thigh, just above his ski pants. Not quite subtle. Not quite innocent.
Jayden smirked. “Getting comfortable?”
The guy just grinned, his fingers pressing in slightly. “You looked cold.”
Jayden chuckled, shifting slightly so their knees bumped together. “You sure it’s not ‘cause you just wanna touch me?”
The other guy tilted his head, his ski goggles sliding down slightly. “Touch what? You’re barely packing anything”
Jayden’s stomach flipped. It was all coming back now—the way they teased each other, the way neither of them could keep their hands to themselves, especially on long ski lifts like this.
He let his own hand drift, sweaty gloved fingers brushing over the guy’s arm, then his chest, feeling the firm skinny body beneath the layers.
“Damn,” Jayden murmured, voice low. “Forgot how solid you are.”
The guy smirked. “Forgot how much you liked that.” His hand slid higher, fingers squeezing just a little.
Jayden rolled his eyes, but the warmth creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Shut up, Luca.”
Luca just grinned. His hand sliding lower and lower, cupping Jayden’s average sized dick beneath the ski gear layers. He moaned.
Jayden shifted, pressing himself closer against Luca, feeling the heat of his body even through their thick ski gear. His breath hitched as Luca’s hand slid lower, teasing over the waistband of his ski pants.
“Hey,” Jayden murmured, voice dropping into something softer, needier. “Pet me.”
Luca chuckled, fingers stilling just at the curve of Jayden’s rear. “Pet you where?” he asked, like he wanted to hear Jayden say it.
Jayden swallowed, face heating beneath his balaclava. He knew what Luca wanted, and he knew how much he loved teasing him for it. “You know where,” he muttered, shifting slightly. His small, tight rear barely filled out his ski pants, a firm little thing that didn’t bulge out at all, just hugged close to his frame like it belonged to a lean, sleek ski boy like him. He knew Luca liked it, liked how perky and snug it was.
Luca hummed, fingers finally pressing in, palming over the slight curve. “Damn,” he teased, voice rich with amusement. “Forgot how tiny this thing is. No wonder it takes so much work to feel you.”
Jayden groaned, half from embarrassment, half from the way Luca’s fingers kneaded him, spreading warmth through his layers. He pushed back slightly, encouraging. “Shut up,” he grumbled.
Luca just laughed, fingers pressing firmer, squeezing the small handful of Jayden’s rear through his ski pants. “Cute,” he murmured. “All tight and little.
Jayden’s breath hitched. His stomach twisted in that way it always did when Luca had him like this—flushed, flustered, teased into submission.
Luca’s grip on him tightened suddenly, fingers digging in just enough to make Jayden jolt. Then, his voice came, low and playful, right against Jayden’s ear.
“Do something for me,” he said
Jayden swallowed. “What?”
Luca’s hand on his ass flexed, warm and firm. “Fart on my hand.”
Jayden’s stomach twisted—not from disgust, but from something deeper, something hotter. The fact that Luca was actually asking for it, wanting it, made Jayden’s pulse hammer against his throat. His first instinct should’ve been to shove Luca’s hand away, to roll his eyes and laugh it off. But instead, he found himself shifting, adjusting his seat, making sure Luca’s hand was cupped right under him.
His ski pants were tight, snug against his body, trapping in every bit of heat from their morning runs down the mountain. He could feel the layers hugging him close, sealing in the warmth, sealing in everything.
“Hold on,” Jayden murmured, his voice dropping, turning softer, breathier. He pressed his weight down against Luca’s palm, focusing, feeling the slw churn in his stomach.
Luca let out a slow chuckle, his fingers flexing slightly over Jayden’s tight, small rear. “Atta boy,” he murmured, encouraging. “Let it out, rich boy.”
Jayden sucked in a breath, his gut bubbling, twisting from the sausages and potatoes he’d downed at breakfast. His teenage metabolism had been working overtime, turning everything he ate into fuel—and, apparently, gas. The pressure built low in his gut, warm and insistent, pushing right against the tight waistband of his ski pants.
And then—
Prrfffttt—
A slow, hot burst of gas pushed out, muffled by the thick insulation of his ski gear but heavy, sinking straight into the layers of fabric. It was thick, rich, almost humid in the way it settled, caught between the padding of his ski pants, sinking in deep, unable to escape. The scent hit immediately—sulfuric, eggy, lingering deep in the heat of his clothes
Luca exhaled, fingers tightening over Jayden’s ass. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice dipping, lower, rougher. “That’s rank.”
Jayden shivered, his pulse hammering in his ears. He shifted, letting the warmth of it seep deeper into his pants, knowing it was trapped there, brewing, getting stronger by the second.
“Yeah?” he asked, voice breathy, cocky. He pushed back slightly, his rear still snug against Luca’s palm. “You like that?”
Luca let out a low chuckle, rubbing slow, lazy circles over Jayden’s rear. “Hell yeah,” he murmured. “Gimme another.”
Jayden’s stomach flipped. The heat of Luca’s hand, the way he was actually asking for it, made him feel—fuck. He wanted to give it to him. He wanted to feed him more.
He bit his lip, stomach twisting again, another deep, rich bubble of gas pushing low. He wanted this. Wanted to let go again, right into Luca’s waiting hand.
Jayden shifted once more, feeling the pressure in his gut build, his stomach still working through the sausages and potatoes he’d eaten. He could feel the weight of it in his lower belly, thick and sluggish, pressing against the tight fabric of his ski pants. His butt cheeks shifted restlessly, the material of his gear rubbing against his skin, and the warmth of the gas started to rise, spreading in the thick layers.
Luca’s hand never left his body. It was a steady, relentless presence, still cupping the firm curve of Jayden’s tight butt, fingers flexing, pressing in, making him feel every inch of his body responding to the heat between them.
Jayden bit his lip, shivers running up his spine. “You want another?” he asked, voice dipping low, almost teasing now. “You still want me to let one out?”
Luca grinned, eyes glinting behind his goggles. “I can smell it, man. It’s making me crazy.” His gloved fingers slid up the small of Jayden’s back, a soft, possessive motion. “Let me have it, bro. Don’t hold back.”
Jayden’s heart raced, but he didn’t hesitate. His body was warm, all the gas inside him pressing, making him feel full, heavy. With a deep breath, he let go, feeling it start to push, slowly at first, then building in intensity, a thick, sour release slipping out, unmistakable, the eggy smell rich and heavy, cutting through the air. It was rotten, like overcooked eggs left in a pan too long, mixed with the greasy stench of sausages and potatoes still turning in his gut.
The warmth of it sank into the thick layers of his ski gear, filling the space between his body and the ski pants, wrapping around him like a blanket. It didn’t escape immediately—it was trapped, all that foul gas sitting heavily in the padding, saturating the fabric with the stench of his breakfast, settling right into the curve of his tight butt.
Luca inhaled sharply, his grip tightening. “Fuck,” he muttered, a low, guttural sound. “That’s bad, Jayden. Really bad.” He shifted closer, leaning in, his breath hot against Jayden’s cheek as he took another deep sniff, nose pressing closer to Jayden’s buns. The smell of the eggs and sausage lingered on Luca’s breath, mingling with the sharp, almost sour tang of his sweat.
Jayden couldn’t help but feel a rush of something strange, a warmth flooding through his chest. “You like it?” he asked, voice low, almost breathless now. “You like how disgusting it smells?”
Luca’s hand slid down again, cupping Jayden’s buns harder, squeezing tight. “Hell yeah,” his nose brushed along Jayden’s butt, drawing in a long, slow breath, inhaling the thick, foul air trapped in the layers of his ski gear while surrounded by the snow of the mountains and the calm atmosphere.
Jayden groaned, leaning back into it, knowing that Luca was practically addicted to the smell. His body felt flush, each inhale of the stench making him feel something darker, something he couldn’t quite name but didn’t want to fight anymore. “You really want me to let go again?” Jayden whispered, biting his lip, pushing back against Luca’s touch.
Luca’s fingers dug in harder in the already hard small cheeks. “Give it to me,” he growled, voice low and desperate. “I wanna smell all of it, bro”
—————-
Luca :
Jayden :
In a city of millions, two men—Ryan and Jason—lived completely separate lives, their paths never meant to cross.
Until tonight.
Bored, they each scrolled through their phones, searching for something (or someone) to pass the time. That’s when they both found it.
A strange, unnamed app, sitting deep in the app store. No description. No reviews. No history. Just a sleek, pulsing chat bubble icon with a single prompt after installation:
*Start Chat*
Neither of them hesitated.
They clicked.
Their screens went black for a moment before loading a simple chat window. A single message appeared at the top.
— You are now connected. Say hi! —
Ryan, stretched across his bed, thumbed at his screen. The chat had connected him with a random guy.
Whatever. He had nothing better to do.
Ryan: Hey. Who’s this?
Across the city, Jason blinked at the message. Who the hell was this?
Jason: idk, just found this app. You?
Ryan: Same. Looks kinda sketch ngl
Jason: Yeah lol. Guess we’re both bored af
Simple. Casual. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Except for the pull.
Neither of them noticed at first, but the moment they exchanged words, something shifted.
Something had taken hold.
Ryan absently rubbed his fingertips together. His skin felt… softer.
The air in his room seemed warmer, heavier against his body. His shirt, loose before, now draped differently over his torso. His waist felt tighter, his frame subtly shrinking in on itself.
He shifted against his mattress. Something about the way his body rested felt off.
No—not off. Different.
Ryan: Lol yeah… kinda fun tho~
Wait.
His eyes widened slightly. Why had he typed that? That tilde at the end—he never texted like that. It was… cutesy. Flirty.
A faint pink dusted his cheeks.
His softer, rounder cheeks.
Meanwhile, Jason tilted his head at the message.
Something about it made his gut tighten. No—not tighten. Expand.
A slow, rippling sensation spread through his torso, a warmth settling into his shoulders, chest, and arms.
His grip on his phone felt stronger.
He flexed his fingers, watching the tendons shift beneath his skin. His palm looked different.
Larger. Thicker. Rougher.
His lips curled into a small smirk. He typed without thinking.
Jason: Yeah, guess it’s not so bad. Ur kinda funny lol
The moment he hit send—
Crack.
Jason inhaled sharply as his spine lengthened. A sudden heat surged through his body, muscle knitting together, growing denser, stronger. His once lean frame stretched, broadening, his shoulders pushing outward with a slow, satisfying pressure.
He rolled them instinctively, feeling the unfamiliar weight of his new build. His chest felt heavier, his pecs firmer, fuller. His biceps bulged slightly as he shifted, his veins subtly rising beneath his skin.
His scent was changing too.
The faint, neutral smell of his room was being overpowered by something else. Something thicker, muskier.
Something his.
Ryan’s breath hitched as he read Jason’s text.
“Ur kinda funny lol.”
It wasn’t even that flirty, but why did it make his stomach flutter?
His fingers trembled slightly as he typed back.
Ryan: Omg shut uppp lol ur teasing me~
The moment he sent it—
His waist cinched inward.
His stomach flattened, growing softer, smoother. His hips pressed outward, the bones shifting beneath his skin, forming an alluring, delicate curve.
His legs stretched slightly, but instead of gaining size, they slenderized.
His thighs—once average—became soft, plush, and bony.
His calves slimmed, his ankles narrowing into dainty, elegant proportions. His fingers flexed, and he gasped.
They were smaller.
More delicate.
A faint, involuntary giggle bubbled up from his throat.
His higher, sweeter, softer throat.
Jason exhaled through his nose, stretching his newly broadened body.
His arms felt heavy with strength. His hands—now massive compared to before—flexed against his thighs, gripping the fabric of his sweats.
A warm dampness clung beneath his arms, his natural musk intensifying. He reeked.
And he loved it.
A cocky grin spread across his face.
Jason: Lmao, what, you like it when I tease?
Ryan shuddered. His plush thighs squeezed together. His ass twitched.
His soft, round, plump ass.
Jason leaned back, rolling his shoulders. His chest stretched against his shirt, the fabric clinging to the new thickness of his pecs.
His scent was unmistakable now—deep, raw, masculine, and honestly really smelly.
His armpits—warm, slightly damp—radiated a rich, musky funk. His feet, once average-sized, had grown huge, the soles pressing against the floor with a newfound weight.
His socks, discarded nearby, were stained with sweat, the scent thick and heady in the air.
Jason: Lol bet you’d love burying your face in my pits rn huh?
Ryan’s breath hitched.
His body trembled.
A deep, unfamiliar need coiled in his gut. His thighs clenched instinctively, his ass wiggling against the bed.
His lips parted slightly, his pinker, softer lips.
A whimper slipped out.
His hgher, needier whimper.
His mind felt hazy.
Ryan: Omg wtf why would u say that!!!
Jason: Lmao, you love it.
Ryan whined.
He did.
He fucking did.
Jason was complete.
His massive frame, his thick, dominant scent, his cocky, fuckboy energy—he was the epitome of a top.
His feet huge and sweaty. His pits ripe and musky. His voice deep and commanding.
And Ryan?
Ryan was his.
A tiny, blushing, submissive, needy bottom.
His soft, round ass—perfectly made for his top. His body, delicate, built to be claimed. His mind, rewired to crave Jason’s dominance, his scent, his filth
They had started as strangers.
Now, they were something else.
they only had memories of being a couple for a year.
Jason was all Ryan could think about now—his sweaty frame, his overpowering musk, his deep, arrogant voice.
His scent.
His filth.
A whimper slipped from Ryan’s lips. His pinker, fuller lips. His stomach twisted with hunger.
Ryan: omg jason…
Jason smirked at the message, stretching his broad, muscular arms above his head, his damp armpits airing out. He let out a long, lazy exhale, flexing his thick biceps.
His body felt heavy, powerful, dominant.
Ryan was wrapped around his finger.
Jason : Lmao what
Ryan’s thighs clenched.
His soft, dainty fingers hovered over the keyboard. His heart pounded.
He knew what he wanted.
He needed it.
But saying it outright—admitting it—felt so shameless.
Still, his body was betraying him.
His fingers moved.
Ryan: can u…
He hesitated
A soft whimper left his lips as he wiggled against his bed.
Ryan: c-can u send me… a video… of ur fart again?
Jason blinked.
Jason: Lmao, again?
Ryan covered his blushing, soft face. His cheeks burned
His tiny, needy, giggly body squirmed.
Ryan: pls babe?
Jason chuckled, scratching the back of his head.
His short, unkempt hair was messy, sweaty, sticking up in places.
He didn’t think much about it.
In fact, he didn’t think much about anything.
Not his scent. Not his filth. Not the way his boxers clung to his sweaty skin, or how his feet were practically marinating in his old socks.
He just existed.
And he smelled like himself.
Jason: sure i guess, babe
He barely gave it a second thought as he shifted, spreading his legs slightly. He leaned back, pressing into the bed, his massive, sweaty frame sinking into the mattress.
He lifted his thick ass cheek slightly and—
PPPPPFFFRRRRTTTTT
A long, wet, lazy fart rumbled out of him, vibrating against the fabric of his stretched-out, sweaty boxers.
The scent hit him instantly.
Jason: Lmao, that one was loud af.
Ryan shuddered. His eyes were wide, trembling, desperate.
His plump thighs rubbed together, his body overheated with need. The need to smell it.
He had to know.
He had to hear it.
Ryan: how did it smell?
Jason raised an eyebrow.
Smell?
What smell? He didn’t smell at all, right ?
He gave a casual shrug, completely oblivious to the dense, suffocating funk that now lingered in the air around him.
Jason: idk, just normal I guess?
Ryan let out a needy whimper, his fingers gripping the sheets.
Jason: Wait… U really like this huh?
Ryan’s heart pounded. His soft chest rose and fell rapidly.
He couldn’t deny it.
He was hooked. Obsessed.
Jason stretched again, his thick, sweaty muscles flexing. A cocky smirk played at his lips.
Jason: Alright then, say it.
Ryan blinked.
Ryan: s-say what?
Jason grinned.
Jason: Tell me how much u want me.
Ryan whined.
His body burned with humiliation, excitement, and deep, desperate need.
He wanted Jason to own him.
And he would admit it.
There was no escaping it now.
——————-
Hello, is this croviniac support ?
I installed the app on my boyfriends phone, I wanted to turn him into a young, hot teen (18) biker. In the past few weeks, my twink bf got more and more stinky specifically around his feet. What’s going on ?
You did a good job. I like your friend in his new role. The motorcycle outfit looks damn good on him.
But did you really really think he would stay a twink if he became a biker. Where do you think he always goes with his bike in the morning and evening? Pumping iron, of course. However, you should have paid attention to what the body hygiene settings are. "Lick and be licked" is already a hard kink.
He's not that muscular yet. He's still getting to the armpits. But you have to take care of the feet. Or change the settings again. With Chronivac nothing is chiseled in granite!
Wade reluctantly follows his boyfriend into a new thrift shop. After trying on some old surf shorts he is blasted into the past. With each passing moment and stray thought he's body and mind molded into the King of this mid-century beach.
What better time for a surfer TF than Winter huh? In season for any Aussie/Southern Hemisphere readers I might have haha! At any rate, Hope you enjoy this little time travel TF, got a cowboy TF coming next ;) Best ! -Occam
Wade and Dylan don’t know how they’ve somehow overlooked the vintage shop on Main Street until now. Wade’s more than happy to make a note of it and come back later, quite eager to get out of the cold. But when Dylan pulls on his sleeve and begs they check it out, “We’ll just be in and out babe-” the driver acquiesces with a grumble and turns into the small parking lot.
Before the engine’s off, Dylan hops out of the small car and sprints inside in search of some theoretical hidden gem. Wade sees his sigh in the icy air before he knew he released it. Longing for the end of the winter he trudges carefully along the icy sidewalk behind his happy-go-lucky boyfriend.
The woman at the counter pages through some old magazine of vintage clothing while Dylan raids the racks. Wade eyes the cluttered store as he fights back a sneeze from the dusty shelves. Quite the eclectic shop, certainly not a store with a specific market in mind. What can only be leather fetish gear hangs on the walls next to some army surplus gear and in between are rack after rack of pastel skirts and oversized vintage suits.
He hears his boyfriend squeak in excitement as he pulls two things off their coat hangers. “Wade! Look~ Bell Bottoms!” He holds a pair of something more akin to boho pants up to his waist and poses, “Aren’t they just 60’s chic babe?” Queen that he is, Wade opens his mouth to question or debate when exactly they became vogue, but before he has a chance there’s a glimmer in Dylan’s eyes as he pulls out a piece for Wade to judge.
“And I found these for you babe!” Stretching the string waistband with a wink, Dylan produces a pair of surf shorts that are surely a few sizes too large for Wade, who remains ready to leave. Responding to a complaint not yet uttered Dylan raises a finger to silence him and continues, “C’mon just try ‘em on Wadey! You can tighten them all the way up, this way if you keep up on your gym plans they’ll be perfect for your beach bod!”
Wade grumbles and reaches out to grab the shorts. Though he’s loath to admit it, he’s surprised at how right they feel now that they’re in his hands. Pursing his lips he doesn’t acknowledge the strange sensation. Wade shakes his head in shock as after a moment holding them, he’s filled with an urge to strip then and there to throw them on. Blushing at the strange thought he keeps silent and allows himself be dragged towards the two shabby dressing rooms in the back of the store.
Dylan, holding his bell bottoms and a vest Wade didn’t see him pick up, does a little pose before dipping into the changing room on the left. Ready to be done and slightly on edge from his intrusive thought, Wade enters the curtained space opposite. Like any other of the millions of dressing rooms throughout the country there’s a mirror, a small mounted bench, and spot to hang up your clothes. What is less expected is the bizarre silence that overtakes him as he steps past the curtain, as if he were in a recording booth.
Holding his shorts he forcefully assumes it’s just his ears popping and he’ll be right as rain any moment now. It’s anyone’s guess as to why the sound of Dylan’s humming as he changes into his little outfit is totally muted by two hanging sheets of fabric. As far as Wade is concerned his boyfriend has simply decided to go quiet, willfully ignoring how out of character that is for a man as uncomfortable with silence as Dylan is. Faced with this strange supernatural quiet Wade feels himself begin to understand the discomfort.
The man’s two feet away, Wade should hear the shuffling of clothing if nothing else. Hackles officially raised, Wade starts to investigate, though before his hands can reach the curtain he’s struck with a migraine and thought that’s not his own blaring in his head, It is of no concern, I should change into the surf shorts. Lip quivering the shorts are already in his hands as he turns back to the mirror.
His reflection flickers as his pants fall to the ground, goosebumps soaring up his legs from the shock of losing their cozy covering. Unwilling to acknowledge whatever horror must lie in the mirror he forces his eyes shut as his body moves of its own accord to pull the baggy shorts on. When he feels them cinched and tied on his thin waist he opens his eyes, holding fast to the idea that everything is fine, must be fine.
In the mirror he finds his reflection as it always is, tacky swim shorts notwithstanding. He looks exactly as he should. Wade sighs in relief before he notices that he’s not out of the impossible jungle yet. What is different is the room in which he finds himself, the curtain now striped, a harsh bulb hangs above him, the small bench replaced by a damaged wooden stool.
Taking time to rationalize how he’s gotten these details mixed up, as is the only explanation, he sees a shimmer in the bottom of the mirror. Looking closely he sees a spark slowly panning up. When it reaches his feet he sees them slowly begin to darken, tanned by a sun they’ve rarely seen before they begin to bulge and lengthen. Seeing feet more akin to swim fins than what he knows he has he yelps and jumps away, getting tangled in the rough curtain before spilling into the vintage store’s hallway.
Dumbfounded, Wade scrambles to the floor and sees the vintage store is no more. In its place is what appears to be a cabana. Large windows show a bright beachside summer day, a far cry from the frigid world he knew it should be. Before he can pinch himself awake he flinches as some surfer bro gestures to his shorts and shouts, “Eyy Wade! Lookin’ killer brah!”
Refusing to engage with the world he’s found himself in, Wade beelines to the tall, tanned, muscular man who addressed him by name and asks as his eyes start to tear up, “D- Dylan?” The surfer’s eyes focus in and his mouth closes into a look of shock before dropping into a slack jawed, “Whuh?” and settling on a smile as he laughs and ruffles Wade’s hair, “‘S Ray dude, you know that ahahah!”
Ray? Wade rubs his eyes as he tries to remember if he knows a Ray, though really he doesn’t think he knows any surfers. Ray. With each searching thought comes a creeping sensation. The name feels right? It feels more at home, more familiar in his head, as if he’s thought of the man thousands of times. Ray. Yeah, he knows Ray, how could he not. Looking at the man standing opposite him, blushing at the tan pecs at his eye level he is struck with countless memories of watching him on the waves. Cheering on his, brah? No that can’t be-
“Should take your shirt off too Wade, show off for the ladies eh?” Ray flexes and Wade narrows his eyes, okay well that’s enough of this dude. He then slaps his forehead, what’s he thinking he just needs to call Dylan, obviously. He quickly runs back to the changed-changing room and arrives just in time to find his pants shifting into vintage shorts, quite like the pair he now wears. Swallowing his fear he reaches into the pocket for his phone, though the only thing he produces is a beaten up wallet and his car keys, now missing their fob.
Putting forth great effort to steady his breathing he checks the wallet to find a similarly damaged driver’s license unlike any he’s ever seen. Gone is the plasticine card he’s carried for years, replaced by some water stained, taped together laminated bit of paper with a signature sloppier than he’d ever use scrawled under his name. His eyes refuse to look at the date of birth as he opts to sprint back and confront Ray.
His feet pound hard on the few steps back to the cabana’s lobby, heavier than they had any right to. With each careening step they widen and lengthen racing to match the wretched paddles he saw in his reflection. Their soles roughening from what must be years of walking along dingy beachside sidewalks, perfect for sticking to a waxed board. “Okay dude, Ray, whatever your name is I’d like my phone back. I don’t think this stupid little prank is funny.”
Ray pauses mouth hanging open, its default state apparently, as he processes whatever it is that Wade must be whining about. He tilts his head and smirks a stupid smile at the clerk that Wade only just noticed, “Hear that Mabes? Wader over here thinks you had a phone in the changing room! Hah!”
She rolls her eyes before turning to address the clearly apoplectic newcomer, “Wade I don’t know what your deal is today-” she pauses to look him up and down and groans, “God! How many times do I have to tell you guys, if you’re going to come in at least throw on shoes. No one wants to see your disgusting little feet.”
Ray performs indignance at this, throwing a heavy arm around Wade’s shoulder, though he shoots higher than he should as if he were expecting his bro to be taller than he is, “Now Mabe, babe. You won’t get me defindin’ the cleanliness of my brah here, but little! I’ll have you know he’s got the best board huggers this side of San Fran!” Wade narrows his eyes in confusion as whatever is going on is clearly beyond and beneath him. Though as Ray finishes speaking, the smaller man grunts as his feet cramp.
Looking down, Wade discovers that, alongside the world around him, he too has begun to change. His feet have clearly already grown, Dylan always poked fun at his small shoe size, but now they have grown beyond measure. Wade recoils in shock as they balloon once more, toes stretching further as his soles bulge wider.
They seem so large that he wonders where he’ll be able to even get shoes that big. Eyes flickering back and forth he figures he’ll just have to order them on Ama- uh? Wade’s eyes glaze over briefly as he loses his train of thought. His head pangs with pain as the idea of online shopping starts to fade. Surely they have catalogues for extra-large shoes or something, he’ll check with Ray later, yeah. Ray’ll know.
Speaking of, Ray and Mabel have continued arguing. Wade is unaware that as he was lost in his own mind, his new surfer bro has continued to defend him, and with each complimentary phrase Wade has begun to inch taller in height. Speaking of waves conquered and tubes bodied, Wade catches the tail end of one particularly exaggerated story as his mind begins to fill in the details. Back stretching and calves slowly bulking as he clearly recalls bailing from his board. He grunts again as he surges taller, thighs slowly bulking up as his new height exposes a pale midriff, attracting eyes from both of the spatting pair.
Finding he has their attention he clears his throat and begs, “Look, I don’t care about any of this-” Ray recoils in shock, “Can I borrow either of your cellphones so I can call my boyfriend?” Their eyes widen at the brazen use of boyfriend though the friends are well aware of Wade’s proclivities, what actually causes the strange stares is his asking for a cell phone. “Brah, did you hit your head or what? You know the cabana don’t have a phone.”
Wade shakes his head, he doesn’t know that he doesn’t care, “Sure! Whatever!” he reaches out, “Can I borrow your cell phone.” Mabel and Ray eye each other once more before breaking out into laughter, “Shell phone? What are you on about dude?” Wade stares back with absolute shock and derision before his vision goes spotty and his head burns with a rolling headache. His hippocampus physically pulses as his mind and memories are rewritten.
A cell phone is foolish? A dream. A phone you could just up and carry anywhere? Science fiction. And yet he can almost picture a small black mirror in his hand. Embarrassed from their laughter and determined to not let this fact of reality be erased he continues to stare at his hand as if he’s trying to will one into existence. Unfortunately the only change that he notices is his skin bulging as his hand flexes larger, a few scars blanch from years on the beach as his hands struggle to keep up with his advancing height. One could almost hear his bones cracking as his fingers lengthen and grow calloused while his fingernails lose their polish, grow dirty, and shorten
He pounds the cabana counter and Mabel clicks her tongue, “Okay let’s cool it buddy, you wanna make a call Ray’ll take ya down the street.” She motions to the door with her head and Ray escorts him out, “Come back when you’ve worked out whatever this is on the waves huh Wade?” she pouts as she watches the pair go, taking care to stare at Ray’s defined back with a smile, then she snickers and whispers to herself as she gets back to her magazine, “been watching too much Star Trek I bet.”
Ray’s chipper as ever as he leads Wade out of the cabana, unknowingly more comfortable now that his arm rests closer to where it should after Wade sprouted a few inches. For his part, Wade finds himself distracted by the wild blue sea. Waves rise and crash into foam and he’d swear he could feel the bubbles, the surge on his skin. Like a dog staring at a treat he fights desperately with the urge to sprint across the sand to enjoy it right now.
In fact, his thicker feet begin their plodding to a surf wagon nearby with a couple boards stowed before he’s stopped by a question from Ray, “You wanna take your shirt off so you can get some sun brah? Lookin’ a little pasty there.” Wade shakes his head and tries to disregard his words, though as his mind continues to be assailed by a hunger to surf he gives up the ghost on the shirt battle and reveals his pale weak chest to the world, “s- sounds radical. I’l uhh, catch some rays. hah”
Ray starts to laugh at the pun but instead grimaces as the sight of Wade’s small pasty torso is incongruent with the reality that he knows to be true. Though with a mind accustomed to shrugging off strange ideas and problems too big to worry about he quickly throws his arm around Wade’s shoulders slowly growing wider. “Well let’s getcha to a pay phone so you can call your buddy!”
Wade rolls his eyes and crosses his arms as the pair head down the boardwalk. He can scarcely focus on the increasingly rapid changes occurring to his body and mind as he’s still distracted by the sound of crashing waves. As the Summer Californian sun beats down on him, his skin starts to darken, closer to the shade Ray recognizes as Wade. Spreading forth in patches he tans to the customary surfer brown, ushering forth from surf shorts that aren’t quite filled and up past a core that is only now getting defined.
So too does his hair suddenly start to lighten. Lengthening into something sun bleached and salt stained. His usually clean-cut look begins to giveaway as the life he knows he should have is slowly eroded, just like the ebb and flow of the waves calling out for him. Pecs beginning to form darken and shine with sweat under the beating sun as he dreamily stares at the sea. Though despite it all, despite true real memories of life in the twenty-first century slowly fading like a mirage, he still remembers his time with Dylan clear as day. To this he holds fast as he stumbles forward from his heavier upper body.
As he continues to grow into this new form, molded by the alien world of the past around him, he begins to notice other surfers and beachgoers eyeing him with familiarity and nodding with respect. After his bicep bulges larger from returning a few shakas, he bumps his shirtless body into Ray to get his attention like he's done a million times. Finally tearing his eyes away from ogling scantily clad women, Ray tilts his head as Wade asks in a tone clearly affected by the thickening neck and shifting disposition, “Hey brah, er- Ray? Am I like, a big deal?”
Ray looks dumbly at Wade as his irises change to match the deep blue of his quarry before laughing, “Hah! Such a cut-up today brah! Course everyone knows you, you’re always ripping! If anyone needs any tips or tricks they come to you.” Wade clenches at his head as years of memories and knowledge rush into his mind. Equivalent to the sensation of bailing on his board into the choppy sea, he’s drowning in visions of showing off on the waves and taking care to help anyone who so desires to join him in enjoying the spray of a set. His chest puffs with pride and puffs larger with pecs as his jaw widens and now-blue eyes roll back. He’s the king of this beach. And just like that, as soon as the words, the idea, cross his mind he’s overwhelmed and pulled under.
He awakens laid out on a bench somewhere down the way, he hears the Beach Boys playing through some static nearby and opens his eyes to see Ray’s face painted with concern, though as soon as he hears Wade speak up he returns to his usual happy-go-lucky expression. “Gnaaarly dude- feel like I just woke up for the first time~” The new surfer then coughs up some sea water which he finds as strange, he wasn’t surfing was he?
This small quibble with reality acts as one final life preserver to the life he once knew. Just odd enough for him to question his situation, his reality. For a moment he stares at his tanned, veiny hands and questions is this who he is? Trailing up arms patterned with sun-bleached blonde hair and briefly hung up on the quarter-sized nipples poking off a thick chest. He scratches his stomach, for some reason expecting to find a bit of a belly, his fingers instead bump against tight abs.
Unfortunately his last grasp at the future is haplessly wasted as he’s almost immediately distracted by Surfin’ U.S.A, “Ugh-” he chokes out in his now perpetually fried, laid-back voice, “Why’s this dad rock playing?” Ray laughs and helps the man up, “Maan Wade you’re on a trip today, first goin’ on and on about selling phones and some enter-net! You know your dad hates the Beach Boys! Ahahah” With this paltry grasp his past self is evermore washed to sea, Ray’s recollections sound just as strange to Wade as they did to him and Mabel.
Even the explicit mentions of cell phones and the internet isn’t enough to prevent the rubber band from snapping as decades of lived experience with future technology is wiped from his mind. Memories of the modern world thoroughly displaced by life sprinting across the sands and mooring the foundations of surfing as a continental sport. Just as Ray has done countless times today alone, Wade smiles dumbly in brief reflection on his life lived.
Going forward on rare occasions some fragment of his other self washes up to his mind like jetsam. Sometimes when he sees a record he can’t help but wonder if they’ll be smaller one day or he’ll reach for something in his pants out of habit when he has a question to ask, before shaking it off like a strange tic. His crew often labels him some kind of prophet as he seems almost too keenly aware of how global events will shake out.
“I swear brah, gettin’ me worried that your new guy’s slipped ya somethin’” Ray says with a wink. Wade flinches with a start, that’s right! He needs to call Dylan immediately! Putting change in a pay-phone like he’s done all his life he dials a number he knows by heart and holds his breath, begging the universe that Dylan will answer the other line as the ringing tone vibrates the receiver, and then his miracle is answered.
Sounding as if he’s discovered cloud 9, somewhere across the town his love, Dylan, answers, “Heyyyyy, ‘s this Wadey?” The sound of his voice fills Wade’s thicker chest with comfort, “Dyl! God it’s so nice to hear you…” He stands there for a few seconds, only then does he notice how tight his swim shorts have become from his bulking thighs and building ass. Though of course, the most prominent issue at the moment is the rising dilemma in front. He blushes and bites his lip as he tries to speak with more discretion, “You uhhh, down to come over to ours later today?”
He can almost hear the smile of the man on the other line, “Uhhh yeahh, yeah… Me ‘n my uhhh freaks are on a trip righnow. But yeaaah, think I could swing by baby” Wade can almost see the man on the other line, delighting in the feeling of his fingers twirling the phone wire in his hands, certainly too high to work out a time but Wade doesn’t mind. The promise of a future fuck and time together after is more then enough, “Righteous brah, well I’ll see you then Dyl.” His lover just giggles and the pair hang up at the same time, bonded tighter than ever despite their strange unknown journeys apart. Sighing in delight and ignoring the pulse in his pants, Wade turns to face his brah.
For the first time Wade throws his arm around Ray’s shoulder as the pair wander off towards his wagon. Ray gestures for him to try and mask his clearer than anything erection though the surfer just shrugs, “Oh sure dude, as if anyone ever misses your goose eggs you little horndog.” The pair guffaw and continue to tease eachother as they start back towards Mabel’s cabana.
Glimmer in his eyes and too eager to not speed up, Wade hits his bro on the back and challenges him on a race to their boards. His new legs carry him faster than he’s ever managed before. Settled into his new life the feeling of his feet pounding into the hot sand fills him with contentment. There’s no place he’d rather be than soaring across the beach while his crew watches.
As I walked into the gym, I couldn't help but notice the overly sweaty jock working out on the bench press. He was drenched in sweat and the smell emanating from him was so overpowering that nobody would even go near him. I found the smell disgusting and couldn't understand how anyone could be so oblivious to their own stench.
I sighed as I looked at my own chubby body in the mirror and wished I had abs like his. I had been trying to lose weight for months but it seemed like no matter how hard I tried, the fat just wouldn't budge. I felt envious of the jock and his perfect body, but at the same time I was repulsed by his smell.
I decided to focus on my own workout and started with some light cardio on the treadmill. As I ran, I couldn't help but sneak glances at the jock, who was now lifting heavy weights and grunting loudly with each repetition. The sweat was pouring off him and I couldn't help but feel a strange fascination with his body.
After a few minutes, I felt a strange sensation wash over me. Suddenly, I found myself standing in front of the mirror, but it wasn't my reflection staring back at me. It was the jock's! I was shocked and confused, but at the same time I was incredibly turned on by the feel of his muscled body.
I flexed my abs and felt a surge of excitement as I realized I was now in the jock's body. I could feel his muscles flexing and contracting with each movement, and the smell of his sweat was intoxicating. I felt an overwhelming need to touch myself, to feel my own muscles and to explore this new body.
I walked over to the bench press and started lifting the heavy weights, feeling the strength and power coursing through my veins. I couldn't believe how strong I was and how good it felt to be in this body. I was completely addicted to the smell of myself and it was making me incredibly horny.
I looked around the gym and saw that everyone was staring at me, no doubt impressed by my physique and performance. I felt like the king of the gym and couldn't wait to show off my new body to my friends.
As the workout came to an end, I felt my body craving more. I needed to release the pent-up energy and tension, and the only way to do that was to jack off. I walked into the locker room and locked myself in a private stall, where I proceeded to rub one out to the thought of my own muscled body and the smell of my own sweat.
As I locked myself in the private stall of the locker room, I couldn't wait to explore my new body. I was so turned on by the smell of my own sweat and the thought of my muscled physique that I could hardly contain myself.
I reached down and grabbed my cock, which was thick and pulsating with desire. It was longer and more musky than I had ever imagined, and the smell of my sweat was so rancid that it was almost overwhelming. I felt my balls hanging heavy and large between my legs, and I couldn't wait to release the tension that was building inside me.
I began to stroke my cock, feeling the warmth and pleasure as it grew harder and more engorged with each movement. The smell of my sweat was driving me wild, and I could hardly believe how amazing it felt to be in this body. I moaned and groaned as I jacked off, feeling the intensity and pleasure building to a crescendo.
Suddenly, I felt a surge of energy and I came non-stop, load after load, for what felt like a minute. It was the most intense and satisfying orgasm I had ever experienced, and I was completely overwhelmed by the sensations. I could barely catch my breath as I came again and again, feeling the warmth and pleasure coursing through my veins.
The room was filled with the pungent smells of my rancid cum and body odor. The stench was overpowering and I could barely stand it, but at the same time I was completely turned on by the kinky sensations.
The smell of my sweat was so intense that it was almost suffocating, and I could barely breathe as I caught my breath. The smell of my cum was equally rancid, and I could feel it sticking to my hand and the floor of the stall.
It was the most intense and satisfying orgasm I had ever experienced, and I was completely addicted to the kinky sensations of this new body. I knew I would never be able to go back to my old self, and I was determined to make the most of this amazing opportunity.
Under the guise of a gag-gift Chad gives his bookish friend a candle based on his own b.o. Little does Stephen know, as soon as he lights the wick he sets off to join the jock in sweaty abandon.
Very musk forward Jock TF! Hope you enjoy this story of Stephen's scent-based (new)self-discovery, Best! -Occam
His ears ring with tinnitus as he opens the gift. It’s as if an explosion has gone off as he tries to process the pancake in his hands. Everything in him says to laugh, it’s clearly a gag gift, a Man-Candle? His mouth is dry and all the blood in his head rushes to its other epicenter as Stephen looks up, eyes wide, to the man who by all appearances has given him a candle of his own musk, Chad.
His cocky grin is a perfect likeness of the one on the candle’s label staring up from Stephen’s lap. Chad’s expression grows even smarmier as he winks and raises an arm to smell his pit. Stephen’s face burns red as he sees the clear patch of grey that must have been fermenting all morning, his cock bumps against the package.
Chad’s eyes shoot immediately to the sound and his smirk shifts and an eyebrow’s raised in curiosity, excited that his friend must quite like the gift. Stephen speaks up quickly, lest the two brain cells bouncing around the jock’s skull stumble across any ideas, “What the fuck?” The first volley, bounces off Chad’s steel confidence. The second “what the fuck,” causes an eye narrow as the idea that this may be a misstep finally occurs to him, the third repetition of Stephen’s new mantra apparent gets through through Chad’s thick skull.
The jock’s arm remains raised to scratch his back and Stephen’s cock is more than happy to see the grey patch return and his mind must remain focused on not staring directly at the few pit hairs sneaking above his sleeve. Chad clears his throat awkwardly, “I mean bro… Chicks are always talking about how they love, huh- y’know,” he gestures to the air around him, “my aura. Just thought, you know, uhhh- a dude like you might too?”
The jock braces as he sees Stephen’s eyes narrow as he clearly winds up to somehow lash out. Unfortunately for the twink he takes a deep breath to start and is hit with the full force of the man’s ‘aura,’ it catches him off guard and underneath the package his cock pushes again. Stephen grits his teeth and averts his eyes as he tries to hide his desire, “Chad! Those are people you’re sleeping with! I’m just- This is-” Stephen does everything in his power to quiet his lust as he finishes, “Why would I want this?”
Chad tongues his cheek and juts his stubbled jaw. Scratching his meaty stomach in thought, Stephen can hear the hairs dragged underneath the jock’s tight shirt. Making up his mind Chad decides to speak on the elephant, or moreover the trunk, in the room. Nodding to the gift poorly hiding Stpehen’s erection, Chad shrugs “I mean bro, seems like you’re enjoying it just fine.”
“Jesus Christ, fucking straight men!” As unfortunately turned on as Stephen is from the gift and the hunk he has long tried to not be attracted to, at the highlighting of his out of control cock he finds the will to defend his paltry dignity. Though instead of speaking up as his mind is not running on all cylinders, his hands instead reach for anything not breakable to hurl at the man still smirking.
Pillows fly at the man as he continues to try and explain his thoughts, “Yo bro! Watch it-” he grabs one to use as a shield against the continued volley, “I mean I can take it back if you want!” Stephen’s dreams of salvaging dignity perhaps fall to the wayside as this remark causes the hardest throw yet. Chad smirks behind the pillow and finally gets to the door, “Whatever dude! I’ll see ya later! Once you’ve cooled off a bit-”
Chad stands behind the closed door with a shit-eating grin on his face, straight men huh. Awfully dismissive of the bi jock’s identity but whatever. He listens to Stephen huff and unbox the candle through the wall, unaware that the real gift is to come when he finally lights that bad boy up. Whenever the pair get drunk enough it always devolves into Stephen wishing he’d hit the gym more and Chad begging for his friend to join him. He’d love nothing more than a gym bro he can fuck, and soon enough, unless Stephen has the strength to nip his blue balls in the bud, both wishes are to be granted.
It does not take long for already riled-up Stephen to give in to his curious urges. As soon as the scent of Chad in the air dissipates and he hears the front door of his apartment close, the countdown begins. Stephen stares at the obnoxiously smug photo of Chad on the candle and narrows his eyes, “I mean surely it’s a bit? It can’t actually smell like him specifically? Seems hm, expensive to do.”
He bites his lip as he shakily goes to remove the lid, driven by a mind less than conscious and more than hungry. Mouth on the precipice of watering, as soon as the seal is cracked the scent washes over him like a tidal wave. Somehow more powerful, more alluring than the real thing. Rich and grimy, and indisputably the essence of Chad distilled into waxen form.
His eyes are glazed over and his mouth is now pooling with drool. It's anyone’s guess as to how the candle gets lit, but so it does. Stephen falls back onto the couch as his hands struggle to free his cock quick enough from pants that force it down at an awkward angle. It finally bounces free, flinging more pre than he’s ever produced upward. Droplets land just shy of his own face as his mouth falls wantonly open and his hands begin their gleeful work.
The creation of Eau De Chad was not light work, the boiling down of man into a single candle is quite the ask. Perhaps even more so than the transformative magic that it is to instill in Stephen. Within the candle are notes from every musky epicenter of Chad’s being, more than powerful enough to distract Stephen as he begins his journey into a musky jock’s shoes himself.
Foremost of the mind-numbing notes that the lost man is bathing himself in is perhaps the one he’s smelled the least. As strong as in his jock after a workout, sweaty pubes and dripping pre. The medley of scents from Chad’s crotch is so powerful that even without clearly even knowing the source it’s on the tip of Stephen’s tongue, much like he would dream to have on his tongue in reality.
Each breath pulling him deeper than the last, Stephen continues to paw at his cock now free to the open, musky air. With each kneading thrust his hands struggle to encompass his dick as it begins to change. Years of pushing down primal desires for his friend, the Adonis, evaporate into the air as he pictures himself working Chad’s cock. Breathing and licking the heady swear straight from the source.
He imagines working the larger man’s spit-covered cock and with each new image in his mind his own beast begins to reform. Dripping more pre than he’s produced in his life up to this point, his hips thrust into wanting hands as his dick thickens and spears high into the air. Lengthening to press against his sternum, veins bulge and criss-cross across its length as its head regrows a foreskin he never had the chance to enjoy.
When his smaller hands, unable to truly satisfy or encompass his new rod, shift down to try and cup balls bulging larger and pumping him full of masculinity, he hears them scratch against the new jungle of growing pubes. Though the jock tries to keep his chest relatively hairless, under the belt hair growth is wild enough to more than make up for it, and as Stephen begins changing into his new musky lover, he seems to be of the same persuasion.
The candle wick flickers as a new scent begins to rise in prominence. This one Stephen recognizes all too well, though usually poorly masked under cheap deodorant, the scent of Chad’s pits could never be truly hidden. His mouth waters as the scent washes through him and his whole body contorts in pleasure. When his own pits begin to itch he gasps and for the first time opens his eyes to find an impossibly large cock hanging over his thin thighs. His mouth quivers into a smile as the line between dream and reality shifts muddy.
For now though, for the pit fiend there is only one thing to do. He raises his arm and gasps as he sees his few pit hairs lengthening, while in between each one a few darker curls make themselves at home. Stephen forces his head into the sweaty spot and hungrily sniffs. Nose tickled by the growing jungle he moans as he encounters his own changing scent, currently overcoming his own, usually superfluous, deodorant it is but a pale imitation of Chad’s. Though it races to be something equivalent, no, greater.
He continues taking deep breaths, switching between the candle burning strong and his own pit as his musk continues to heighten and shift. With each needy sniff it becomes clear that his odor is not the only part of him shifting. Previously undeveloped arms cramp as muscle begins to pile on. Veins pulse down their center as biceps that have scarcely known strain burn as muscle fibers break and reform to create an impressive peak.
Stephven’s face suddenly contracts into a smirk that he never quite understood before now as his arms force themselves into a pose. Flexing and exposing his newly hairy pits in what he now knows as a front lat spread, he almost laughs as his heady powerful musk begins to overpower the scent burning off the candle.
Having not actually left the apartment, Chad puts an ear to the door as Stephven’s laughter and moans rise in volume and deepen in tone. He creaks open the door and is almost physically hit with the wave of musk as it pours out like a fog from Steven’s bedroom. His own brand mixing with the steam of sweat seeping from his new bros pits is almost more than he can handle. With every step his mind strains to not just give into his own hunger to pounce on his half-formed bro sitting in the chair.
Hearing Steven’s socks fray and tear as a subtle note of foot funk rises to the top of the candle. Seeing his new partner’s legs fill his young-professional pants to their limit, bulging thighs pushing at and swiftly bursting the strained seams. Chad bites his lip almost to the point of drawing blood as he feels his own thighs cramp. He doesn’t know if he’s somehow growing as his new gym bro continues to edge larger or if he’s simply overwhelmed, if his own mind is too clouded from the hunger and musk.
Chad shambles towards Steven, mouth falling open as he sees the shimmering sweaty traps that have torn his shirt open. His eyes can’t look away from the newly heavy pecs that hang over his defined abs, he fights the urge to lean down and lap at the muscle as Steven delights in bouncing them. Sending cascading shadows across his sweaty core, and gaining more mass with every dancing flex.
Instead, Chad leans in close to Steven’s delirium painted face. “Looks like ya liked my gift after all, huh Steve?” His breath mists across Steve’s face. Its heavy humidity barely overcomes the sweaty atmosphere but the sharp mint and undercurrent of musty breath underneath call to his nose like smelling salts.
His jaw cracks and widens as the changes that have overtaken him finally begin their work on the final frontier. Unable to control himself Chad licks the man’s face as it prickles with stubble. Steve’s nose breaks then reforms, his brows thicken and cast a shadow over his eyes as they lose both their color and clarity. Deepening to brown as their default state becomes glazed and thoughtless.
Feeling Chad’s sticky tongue drag on his cheek, it’s like he was struck by lightning. Every new bulging muscle in Steve’s body flexes at once and he stands to his new height, able to make direct eye contact with the man staring at him, just inches away.
Steve tackles him onto the bed, knocking over the candle and sending wax flying through the air. The pair are sparingly coated in the Chad scented candle as they begin heavily exploring Steve’s new form. As their mouths that have always been left wanting find new delight, whatever shreds of the old Stephen that are left begin to vacate.
The anxieties and priorities of a small meek man who never let his id loose disappear as he positions himself over Chad. He bites his bro’s lip and thrusts downward as he pins the massive man’s hands above his head. Masked by the pleasure of true release, he doesn’t care as his old self washes away. Memories evaporate like the sweat pouring off his form. He delights in maneuvering across Chad’s form and enjoying his musk from the source.
His tongue dances across sweaty pecs that match his own as his collection of classics on a bookshelf disappear to be replaced by free weights. Steve’s nose finally shoves its way into Chad’s pits as his extensive collection of hygiene and beauty products down the hall clatter to the floor and disappear as they’re replaced by a single bar of clinical deodorant only used for special occasions. Sleeves fall off his wardrobe of cardigans and button ups as sweat stains yellow every garment. The tops throw themselves from hangers while musty shorts and jockstraps heap into a pile on the floor.
Sweat drips from his brow as with each thrust into Chad his mind gives up the ghost. Each impossible wave of pleasure erodes his old self, each drop of sweat an idea gone, each rivulet of pre dripping down his veiny cock a sign of his intelligence drained to increase the muscle mass of his new form. After all besides pleasure nothing matters to him nearly as much as his fucking hot bod.
He feels his balls pulse as every remaining aspect of Stephen’s self shoots down and is quickly converted. His eyes roll back as he cums the few specks of self remaining in a massive load onto Chad’s sweaty abs. After a few moments of total mindlessness from the jubilee of release, Steve awakens to find himself atop his bro and simply laughs, “Huhuh woah dude that’s a fuckin’ fat load huh?” He scratches at his hairy chest and grimaces as he imagines how that’s going to hide his gains.
Seeing the thoughts on his face as the two are evermore on the same wavelength Chad pauses rubbing Steve’s cum onto his abs and offers, “Lookin’ a little rough there bro, wanna go top up and then hit the gym?” Steve smirks as his bro basically reads his mind, “Yoooo totally let’s hit it!” He punches down into his bro as he stands, smirking as he watches Chad’s cock bounce before sprinting into the restroom and prepping to get pumped.
The gym starts to clear out as the pair arrive, judging by the musk already following in their wake no one dares risk having to smell what it’s like once they actually start going. Stopping in the locker room the pair stop publicly groping and sniffing each other long enough to take a pre-workout photo, tongues out as ever. When they see some poor soul who didn’t escape the gym quick enough covering his nose they eye each other up.
“Yo dude, looks like lil’ bro over there’s gotta problem with your stink.” Steve performatively sniffs his pit and shakes his head, “Nahnah bro. It’s definitely yours, check it.” They continue to talk up eachothers musk while the young man can’t help but sit there, stunned into silence. With each new statement the pair swagger closer until their sweat may as well be dripping on the man.
Gasping as he regains awareness just as the pair are almost standing over him, the sharp intake fills his lungs with their musk as a smile creeps over his face. “Looks like lil bro’s likin’ it after all Chad.” Throwing a sweaty arm over his bro, the man who can scarcely recall that his bro hasn’t always been like this laughs, “Huhuh, well obviously bro, no shot anyone’ll be able to resist us soon.” The pair help the hazy man up and begin ushering him through the ropes, eager to have another musky jock in their image and excited to see how far their little group will grow.
With each swing of their racket they became DUMBER. With each pass of the ball they became ROUGHER. Every time the ball bounced up, and down their muscles EXPANDED. Their clothes rip as their eyes lost FOCUS of the game.
They didn't know the court was enchanted. They were just two DUDES doing a few skirmishes. They had no clue that with each passing second they were getting HORNIER. They had no idea what they were craving as their mouths and holes yearned for something to fill. All it took was one pose in front of the net squatting for BRO to drop his shorts.
All it takes is one new COCK to make you a slut for em. I love making campus gayer.
The Sex Shop (Smelly Size 14 Sneakers)
A small electric chime sounded as Jake walked through the door to the store. It was a new shop, almost the only
open store in the abandoned mall, 'The Sex Shop' it was called. Jake looked around him, a typical kind of store,
large floor, brick walls, long, black tall isles with different pieces of clothing and objects in special
displays around the place. There were people in all the isles looking around at all the different items.
"Well hello!" a voice yelled. A young, handsome man in a suit decorated with a pink tie approached Jake.
"Nice to meet you, uh..."
"Jake."
"Okay Jake, is this your first time here?"
"Yeah" Jake nodded.
"That's great! We have a special offer this week, anyone new to the store gets their first item free! So take a
look around, pick out something you like, feel free to try any of the clothes or toys in the Change Rooms!"
"Uhhh... isn't that really..."
"Oh don't worry, everything is absolutely 100% clean! So get me if you need help, otherwise, enjoy, and change
rooms are down the back!"
"Uh, okay, thanks!" Jake replied, smiling at the salesman's friendliness.
Jake wandered around, noting that the isles had sections like a supermarket and were much longer than he first
thought.
Jake decided to be adventurous and browse the fetish items isle. All kinds of different things lined the walls,
leather straps, handcuffs, masks, even shoes.
"Damn these things are huge! I've never really been one for shoes or feet, but I'll see if I can get into this!" Jake
thought to himself as picked up the absolutely gargantuan size 14 sneakers from the shelves. He walked into a change
room, surprised at their small-bedroom size and spaciousness. He sat down on the seat, wondering why he'd picked the
shoes. "So, how do I go about this." he thought. "The label said they were 'smelly' so I guess I can try that first."
He picked up one of the huge, blue sneakers and held it up to his nose, inhaling deeply. The strong smell of musk,
sweat and feet entered his nose. Jake held the shoe away from his nose, scrunching his face in disgust, but over a few
seconds he felt himself becoming more curious towards it. He inhaled deeply again, the pungent odors hitting his
senses. "This isn't so bad..." he thought. He inhaled again, and again. "Fuck, this is good." he said to himself. He felt his average 5" cock beginning to harden. "Oh man." he moaned to himself. He continued to smell the shoe, then he lost it, he plunged his face into the massive boat. Inhaling and moaning, a wet patch forming in his shorts. He quickly stripped off his clothes and stroked his cock with one hand, the other holding the enormous blue sneaker into his face. "Fuck, I wonder what sexy jock had his big feet in these." he said to himself.
Suddenly he began to feel strange, thinking perhaps he inhaled something toxic, but he couldn't resist, it smelt too
good. He felt a tingling numbness run throughout his body each time he inhaled the cocktail of sweat and odors. His
whole body now felt strange as he continued to furiously rub his cock and sniff the huge dirty shoe. He felt a strange
radiance move from his lungs into his chest. He sniffed once more and felt a shockwave run through his chest. He
stopped, only momentarily, to see his pecs... growing!?
He continued his sniffing and stroking as he saw his pecs swell and expand outwards, accepting whatever was occurring.
He could feel the muscles in his stomach tighten with every sniff, a light four pack pushing it's way to the surface,
tightening, thickening, becoming a six pack, growing further with his pecs. His felt his calves and thighs begin to
swell and tighten with strength and muscle, a real jock's legs, his biceps and triceps began to bulge and pulse with
every breath, swelling and strengthening, his forearms followed suit, expanding outwards and filling with raw muscle
and power. "Fuck, fuck, yes!" he moaned, continuing to smell the boats of shoes.
He felt his legs and torso begin to stretch, extending taller than his previous 5'11" height. Inch by inch, he felt
his body slide up the wall as he hit 6'6". Jake felt his jaw begin to move and shift, becoming sharper and more
masculine, his ears and nose changing shape.
Suddenly, his 5" cock began to pulsate and expand. The head of his cock flared outwards as his shaft began to slowly
extend outwards. "Oh, fuck!" Jake moaned, stroking his expanding cock, he felt veins snake down his thickening shaft,
his cock head oozing precum as it swelled wider and wider, 6, 7, 8 inches, his enormous cock continued to swell, 9, 10
and 11 inches. Jake's enormous meat stuck directly out from him, thick as a can, almost a foot long and coated in precum. His balls began to grow to match, becoming larger and larger, swelling, filling with testosterone and semen.
Veins traced their way down his forearms as they continued to swell, his hands began to expand and lengthen. His
fingers thickened and lengthened, wrapping further around the shoe and his cock, becoming utterly enormous fists of
power.
The energy moved its way to his feet, he felt his toes begin to swell, wider, longer, manlier. His feet cracked and
expanded larger, growing from his average size 9 1/2's and becoming larger and larger. He could feel his toes grow
longer, his heel extending, his foot widening. His feet pushed further through the carpet, growing outwards to a
gargantuan size 14, ready to fill his enormous shoes with their long wide toes and soles. Jake took one last breath
out of the massive sneaker and his cock exploded with cum, splattering the room in white slime. He panted, looking
down and wiggling his enormous toes and smiling. Now a jock with enormous feet and a foot fetish to match, he stood
up, put on his huge sneakers along with some shorts off the floor. A part of his now changed mind seemed to tell him
that the smell of his massive feet would not only turn people into drooling zombies but that it was also contagious.
Jake looked at the tiny wet shorts lying on the floor of the dressing room, and his t-shirt was stretched and
torn from his growth spurt. He dug out his cell phone to call a friend to bring him some clothes and to show
off his new jock stud bud. He started to key in his best friend Matthew, but remembered he was working now.
So he scrolled to Bryce's name and keyed dial.
"Hey, Bryce, do me a favor, and stop by my apartment and bring me some fresh clothes," Jake started.
"Who is this?" Bryce asked. The voice was deeper than anyone he knew, but the guy apparently knew him.
"Oh, my voice changed too?" Jake asked, "How's it different? This is Jake."
"Changed? Jake? Your voice is like three octaves lower than before. What do you mean changed? Why dya need
some fresh clothes?" Bryce was suspicious this was a prank.
"Dude, it's me Jake. I just had a growth spurt, and my shorts are wet," Jake said, "I'm in a dressing room at
that new shop downtown. Now go by my apartment, the spare key is in the fire hose box next to my door. There's
a wicker chest of drawers next to my bed. In the bottom drawer are some white shorts and a XXXL UP Pilots
jersey. Go get them, quick okay."
"XXXL will look like a tent on you, what gives?"
"Just do it, Bryce. You'll find out."
Bryce didn't have anything better to do, and was curious, so he said,"Okay, Jake."
He hung up, and headed over to Jake's place.
Jake grinned as he set the phone down. He bent over and lifted his foot toward his nose. He took a deep
breath. Damn, he smelled good.
"Mmmm, my feet reek so good," Jake said. He felt his dripping huge cock pushing into his pec. He extended his
tongue to taste foul smelling sneaker. He felt like an electrical spark leap from the shoe to his tongue, then
he tasted bitterness, and blew his load. The underside of his hin and his chest were covered with like 6
ounces of gooey cum. He wiped off his chin and chest with his all ready wet shorts. He licked the white goo
off his hand. Instantly, he felt his body grow a tad bigger. Then he shifted to get a better look at his balls
under his massive cock. He hefted his cock out of the way, and cradled his now tennis ball size size
testicles. He grinned, he felt even hornier than before. It was a good thing Bryce was on the way. He
scraped the rest of the cum off his chest and chin, but instead of eating it, he massaged the cum into his
stinky shoes.
Bryce found the key, and the clothes. He laughed imagining Jake wearing this huge gear. He shoved them into
Jake's gym bag which was hanging on the back of his front door. Then he started on his five minute walk from
Jake's place to the shop.
The shop was interesting. Bryce paused to glance in some of the cases. A couple of things looked interesting.
He smiled, and reached for an orange box with an intriguing label. He paused, frowned, looked down at the bag
in his hand. He could come back and check this out later. Right now he needed to see Jake. He looked at the
doorway with the sign that read "Changing Rooms." He headed through the doorway. The first dressing room
door was open and the room was entry. The second door was closed. He knocked on it, and the door swung open
to reveal another empty room. The third door was locked, so Bryce called out, "Jake?"
Jake was on the threshold of blowing another load, when he heard Bryce at the door.
He stood, and reached the door knob without taking a step. He opened the door.
"Hey, Bryce, good to see you," Jake said.
Bryce's jaw dropped. Jake was naked. Jake was huge. Bryce took a deep breath, and Jake's pungent scent hit.
"Close the door behind you," Jake ordered.
Bryce opened the door to the changing room. It was dark and he couldn't see anything. The first thing he noticed was a pungent scent that hit his nose and made him grimace. It smelled like dirty feet, sweat, and BO. "Hello?", he tentatively asked the dark room. He sensed a movement and all of a sudden something slammed the door behind him. Bryce instinctively jumped back from the door and the loud noise. In the dark he felt strong arms grab him and he felt something leathery shoved into his face and cup it. Bryce breathed heavily out of shock and almost gagged. The smell was so much more intense than before; it smelled like dirty, unwashed feet. It was disgusting! Bryce tried to struggle against the strong figure hold him in place and whatever was being shoved against his face. He finally squirmed free and stepped back, gasping for air and trying to get the rancid foot scent out of his nose. That was when the light flickered on and he saw his friend, Jake. Well, it looked like Jake, if he was older, taller, bigger, hairier and had much more muscle. Jake looked like a total jock now! Bryce gulped when he saw this man was totally naked, and a thick 10 inch erection was sticking out, hard as steel and leaking precum on the floor. Jake was holding a very dirty and well used size 14 sneaker in his hand too. Was that what was on his face? GROSS! No wonder it stunk so bad. What the fuck?
"j... Jake?", Bryce stammered out in confusion and fear. The new jock Jake grinned; "Yeah man, this is the new me. I look so fucking hot. What do you think?".
Bryce was shocked and very confused. "What the hell happened to you, man, your like... huge! You look like an adult now, your all big and hairy, not to mention.... that", Bryce said as he gestured to Jake's massive erection. "Also, Jake, no offense but you fucking stink, man. And that shoe, why did you put that on my face, that's so fucking gross!".
Jake smiled and stared at the massive shoe; "Oh this thing?". He made eye contact with Bryce and took a huge sniff of the dirty sneaker and moaned. Jake's cock leaked a few more blobs of precum on the carpet. Bryce was shocked by what he was seeing. "These shoes are why I have this awesome body now, they are magic! I put them on and I grew into this sexy jock! I wanted to share it with my best friend, so I called you. We can be huge jock bros together". Bryce didn't know what to say; he thought about the possibilities with a body like that. He thought of how easy it would be to get laid by all the girls at school. He had no chance with the ladies as he was right now. "Well... I mean, it would really help us score with the ladies...", Bryce said, contemplating the possibilities.
Jake grinned even wider; "Well, these shoes, they are magic; they made me forget all about my sexual fantasies about girls. POOF Totally gone. These shoes replaced my desires about girls replaced them with musky guys, dirty feet, and sweaty BO. I crave it now, and I don't even care. Seriously, these magic shoes gave me a real strong smelly foot fetish. Soon your going to have one as well". As Jake said this he took another sniff of the nasty, giant sneakers; "Oh fuck, that's so good. Your going to love that stink soon enough".
"What the fuck?! NO! I don't want to be a gay, drooling, foot obsessed jock, even if I could be bigger and have muscles. That's DISGUSTING! How can you be enjoying yourself, that's sick Jake. I'm leaving, you nasty pervert!". With that, Bryce tried to leave the room. Jake sidestepped and stepped in front of Bryce. Jake was inches away from Bryce, and he was much taller now. Bryce only came up to Jake's hairy, muscular pecs. This close, the thick BO wafting off of Jake's body was intense and it made Bryce gag. Jake pushed Bryce back a little bit, further back into the room.
"Don't try to fight it man. Can you feel the influence worming it's way into your brain yet. Look at these huge hairy feet. These are the feet of a man, and they stink. I bet you wanna sniff them, don't you? They stink something awful now, but I bet that you are curious about how they smell. Go ahead, take a whiff! Give in to your new foot fetish, your new desires".
Bryce looked down; Jake's feet really were massive now. The tops were covered in a thick layer of brown hair, and each toe had a small thatch of thick hair, too. The soles looked really thick and big. They were so much bigger than his friends feet before. He realized he was staring.
"I can see you staring. That initial sniff from the sneaker you got earlier is working. I bet you couldn't even get hard from girls anymore, even if you tried. Your fate is sealed; give in and we can be drooling, horny, feet sniffing jocks together!
Bryce couldn't take his eyes off of Jake's manly jock feet. "I bet they stink so bad! That's so fucking gross! Being addicted to smelly feet, no thank you!", he thought to himself. However, as the seconds ticked on he found he was still staring, and that was when he noticed his 4 inch member was rock hard in his pants. Uh oh, he was getting turned on? Was the magic working? He had to get out of there before he turned into a nasty stinky foot obsessed jock like Jake!
While formulating a plan to escape, Bryce had fallen to his knees in front of Bryce, almost as if automatically, against his will. He willed himself to get up and run, but also, being down low, he was much closer to those wonderful feel. "Oh fuck, did I just think of those feet as "wonderful?! This is bad". Being closer on the ground, the foot odor was a lot stronger. Bryce felt his member thicken up and get even harder in his pants. Bryce looked up at Jake. Being on his knees, he was at eye level with Jake's massive, dripping member. It was covered in hair and gave off a strong, sweaty ball smell. Being this close to his friends cock should have grossed him out, let alone the stink of ball sweat, but he didn't feel bothered. He looked up at Jake. Jake grinned a dope, jock smile as he instructed Bryce; "Just give in..."
Bryce was on his knees, staring at the huge, sweaty, hairy feet his friend now possessed. His friend's foul foot odor was making him nauseated it was so bad, but at the same time, Bryce was rock hard and so horny. He looked at the dirty size 14 sneakers that had done this to his friend. Made him a hulking smelly, hairy, foot obsessed jock. Was this his fate? He was getting tired of fighting it and wanted to give in, to sniff and lick his friends smelly feet.
That was it. Bryce made up his mind to get away! Using every ounce of energy he had, he willed himself to slowly back away from the feet. "I have to get away! I won't give in! I am not going to end up a gay, foot addicted pervert!", he said to himself in his mind. As he slowly backed away, he kept motivating himself; "Yes, do it! Don't give in! Don't - ". His inner monologue was cut short with a *SCHLORP* sound.
Jake had planted one massive, size 14, sweaty foot right on Bryce's face, his long splayed toes resting right on the bridge of his nose. The musky scent invaded his nostrils and he instantly struggled and tried to scoot away. The foot sweat smeared on his face as he protested; "Fuck, gaaah, pffft, Jake!! Stop, please!". However, the strong jock didn't budge; he still held his massive foot played all over his friends face. Bryce's eyes watered and his nostrils burned.
"Come on take a big whiff! One more and I'll let you go!", Jake said with a big scruffy grin. Meanwhile, Bryce kept struggling to get away, but Jake was so much bigger and stronger now. Jake's long toes rolled over Bryce's nose as he took a breath. Bryce stopped struggling. "That... that actually wasn't too bad that time", Bryce said, Jake's foot still planted on his face. Bryce closed his eyes and took a deep sniff; he moaned as the stink went into his brain. His cock, painfully tented in his shorts, shot out a glob of precum. "Oh fuck, thats... that is actually really nice, Jake". And with that, Jake smiled; he knew Bryce was gone. There would be no more resistance. Soon enough, he would be a foot sniffing hairy jock like he was.
Taking deep sniffs, Bryce took the massive foot in both hands and began rubbing it all over his face. "Oh, fuck. Oh Jake thats so good", he said. The dirty foot was rewiring his brain. He was forgetting girls and other sexual fantasies he may have at one time had. It was being rewired for only one thing. Dirty feet and man BO. Bryce's cock was so hard it was getting painful. Without stopping desperately sniffing his friend's foot, he took one hand and undid his belt and tried to wiggle out of his pants. Next came his shirt, taking only the briefest time to stop sniffing. Soon Bryce was just as naked as Jake was. "Fuck Jake, your feet are so good". Jake grinned at his friend, and popped a bicep pose. "It's not just my feet that stink Bryce. Maybe some other part of my body could use the attention"...
Bryce looked up and saw Jake with a bicep pose. The sweaty brown bushes in his armpits on full display. The sight of Jake's armpits caused his cock to spurt another bit of precum. "I bet those REEK!", Bryce muttered to himself, sounding almost too excited. Bryce's gaze lingered on Jake's sweaty hairy chest until it dropped down to Jake's bushy groin, his erection massive and jutting straight out. Jake's mouth practically watered and he could see ball sweat practically dripping off of Jake's large hairy sac. This disgusted and horrified Bryce, that he was so turned on by all this, but he didn't care. He was too far gone. He wanted to sniff and worship every inch of Jake's new beautiful body, and hopefully, become as smelly, hairy, and big as his friend was now...
Bryce was staring at his old friend Jake, taking it all in. Bryce's tiny dick was hard as a rock as he stared, mouth agape. Fuck, Jake was so hot. He was staring at his friends now hairy chest. Bryce spied the thick brown bushes sticking out from under Jake's pits. They were so bushy and hairy. Bryce longed to stick his face in them and sniff his friend's stink.
Jake was growing impatient; he knew what he needed to do for the next step in turning his friend into a hairy foot obsessed jock like him. Jake took the nasty dirty trainer in his hand. He took another sniff and nearly gagged at the musk; Jake's 10 inch steel rod spurting a bit of precum in response. Fuck, Jake loved how it smelled now. Jake took the dirty shoe and quickly shoved it back on Bryce's face. Bryce gasped and sucked in the musk; he sputtered, trying to get a clean breath but all he got was foot odor. Not that he cared, Bryce closed his eyes and moaned, and almost shot a load. Jake just laughed mischieviously and held the foul shoe in place. "Give in Bryce, let the shoe do it's job".
A few seconds later, there was a loud cracking sound that came from Bryce's feet. They were beginning to grow! Bryce's toes slowly began to grow bigger and stretch longer. His foot grew wider as it began to elongate as well. Bryce moaned, both from the uncomfortable cramping feeling in his feet, and from the heavenly stink from the shoe on his face.
Jake grinned; he could see from his glassy eyes and pounding erection that his friend had lost all willpower to fight. It was all over for Bryce.
Bryce was enthralled in the shoe's scent and the intense pressure within his feet which were expanding within his shoes. After taking a deep sniff of the sweaty musk he attempted to recoil with a grimace and a moan. "Jake... my feet... my shoes are so tight."
Jake smiled and pushed the shoe into Bryce's face harder, ensuring the transformation continued. "They're getting bigger dude." With his will to resist decimated and a new fetish taking its place, Bryce simply moaned at the revelation and inhaled deeply. He groaned again, harsher this time, his toes lengthened and thickened further, pressing harder and harder against the ends of his size 9 sneakers. The stretching and growing sensation spread up Bryce’s legs and across his body, causing him to moan louder and louder into the huge, worn shoe. His bulging shoes were pushed further away by legs growing longer and bulkier. Both of the men could hear the groans of his spine pushing taller and his arms extending.
At the same time, the muscle growth spreading through his legs moved upward. His legs swelled into large, powerful limbs and destroyed his skinny jeans. Large pecs began to bulge from his front followed by pairs of abs pummelling their way out. Jake grinned and Bryce moaned loudly as long, large toes on what were now size 11 feet burst out of his too small size 9 shoes.
As the feet slid out past size 12, Bryce’s arms twitched with muscular growth. Biceps bulged outward and obliterated the remainder of his shirt as the growth rippled down his forearms. His hands clenched around the back of Jake’s huge paw that was holding the shoe to his face as they exploded in size. Hair poured out of the backs of them and across his arms, abs, legs, and feet.
Bryce’s moans were becoming gruff and desperate as his voice deepened and his head creaked larger with more typically manly features. He was quickly looking more and more like a dumb, sexy frat boy than the average man he once was.
As the huge, hairy size feet passed size 13, Bryce’s cock started to extend and thicken. He groaned loud and deep into the smelly shoe as his dick pressed outward past 5, 6 then 7 inches. He could feel his balls inflating and dropping lower, filling with fresh cum and overloading his body with hormones as it stretched to 8 inches. His cock responded to the jolt of testosterone and expanded again to 9 then 10 inches.
Bryce felt himself about to cum, sealing his transformation forever. His eyes fluttered open, looking down in awe and lust at the big, beautiful size 13s he now had. Jake’s size 15s standing just in front of his own made his cock quiver. He wanted feet as big and manly as those, and so he resisted the end of his changes and pressed the shoe into his face unassisted.
“Hell yeah man, grow them huge” Jake moaned, knowing exactly what Bryce was attempting. Bryce sniffed the shoe hard, gasping as he resisted the urge to cum and feeling his feet stretch just a little larger. He repeated this, again and again, holding back the urge to yell in pleasure as he prolonged the inevitable and pushed his feet to size 14. The sensation and knowledge that his feet were becoming huge was overwhelming. The toes pushed out even longer, finally bringing his feet to the same size 15s as Jake’s.
Bryce gripped Jake’s shoulder and pushed him to his knees and pressed his huge, musty size 15 into Jake’s face. He continued to inhale, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. Jake moaned as the foot grew even larger against his face. Size 16 was going to be the limit as Bryce dropped the shoe and yelled, shooting cum across the room and locking in his fate.
Jake meanwhile inhaled Bryce’s new scent and felt a familiar pressure in his own feet. “Oh yeah,” he moaned as his huge feet pulsed with new growth fuelled by Bryce’s musk. His feet stretched an additional size to match Bryce’s, causing the jock to cum again just like Bryce had.
The pair of big-footed jocks clasped their right hands together and pulled into a brief, sexually charged hug.
“Who’s next?” Bryce asked with a dumb smile.
I had been having a meteoric career. I had worked so hard to make it, at just 40 years old, to the top of an IT company with multiple headquarters around the world. My market visions, my groundbreaking ideas, my hard work had finally been recognized. I felt truly accomplished. Moreover, although my body was not what it used to be, I was fit and good-looking. For a few years I had been dating a girl, a charming blondie; I planned to soon propose marriage to her. I had a rich and happy life ahead of me, I felt like I had achieved my purpose. All this before I met Sam.
He was a young guy, a couple of years out of college. His technical curriculum was average, not impressive, but to HR he had made a very good first impression. When he came to my office to sign the contract, I was faced with not much more than a young boy. He was really youthful and unprofessional. He had short dark hair, an unkempt but neatly trimmed beard, dressed in a black sweatshirt that was wider than him, backpack over his shoulders. I didn't like his gaze at all; he had two determined eyes that gave off an arrogant, cocky attitude. We shook hands, signed without wasting any time, and I saw him leave in his casual clothes and relaxed walk. I remember thinking, as I was in my suit and tie, that 20 years ago I would never have presented myself like that in the workplace. But times had changed; maybe I was still being old school.
In no time Sam made friends all over the office. I am not talking so much about peers, with whom he clearly shared hobbies and passions, but also his superiors and some older managers. He was always chatty and friendly, and all people in his company seemed more relaxed and well-disposed. I noticed that this happened mostly with the men; the few women employed in the company were friendly with him, but nothing as noticeable as with the male employees. After about a month and a half, his direct supervisor, a man in his 60s now approaching retirement, came to my office and proposed that I give Sam a raise, a fairly large one too. I strongly disagreed; it had been a short time since he had been hired and this request was definitely exaggerated. I asked him if he could explain, but he could not tell me anything other than that Sam was the best guy, the nicest, the most helpful, and the kindest. He could not tell me anything concrete concerning the work, while he spoke of him with enlightened, glowing eyes. I dismissed him, telling him I would talk to Sam personally. I did not like this at all. The next morning I walked up to Sam's desk, drawing his attention. Seeing me approach, his eyes did not express astonishment or awe; on the contrary, they continued to have the same cocky attitude I had seen him display the first time. I told him that I wanted to see him that evening, before I left the office, to talk about his future. He only nodded his head and raised his thumb. He had very little respect for authority, but I was going to show him that night. Forget promotion, he was in danger of being fired, little did it matter that I would draw the displeasure of the office.
The offices were almost empty when I heard him knock on the door. I told him to come in. He opened the door but did not enter; he stood there on the doorframe, leaning with one arm. He looked at me with his usual arrogant look, but it was not that which attracted my attention. It was the way he was dressed. He had left his sweatshirt somewhere, the black shirt he was wearing was completely unbuttoned and showed a sports tank top underneath. He was visibly sweaty, as if he had just gotten out of the gym and had not showered. Definitely indecent and tacky. I was about to get up from my desk, ready to kick him out of the company, when a penetrating smell suddenly wafted into my nostrils. It was a sickening stench of sweat and male hormones, resembling a dirty locker room of a youth football team, musky teenagers who hadn't showered in days. It didn't take me long to realize that it was his scent. I tried to fight back but the feeling was too overwhelming, I couldn't focus on anything else, I tried to push it away by moving my head, waving my hands in front of my face. That was how I didn't notice that Sam had stepped forward a few steps, closing the door of my office behind him.
- "Was there something you wanted to talk to me about, boss?"
His voice may have sounded young and ringing, but it had an unexpected power. His words echoed in my head, as if they had been spoken in a deep, empty cave, an echo of hypnotic syllables. I tried to answer him, while with gasping breaths I yearned for clean air. - "Yes, I wanted to…talk to you about your…conduct…you can't…continue like this…the tank top…the sweat…the stench…you're arrogant, cocky…you're fir - "
- "I don't think so. Look me in the eye."
He interrupted me abruptly. I hadn't realized that he had come so close. He was standing right in front of me, only my desk separating us. He had both hands on the table, the stench of his body was now all I could smell. I couldn't help but follow his orders and look into his face. His gaze stared at me in the same way it always did, but this time I couldn't pull away; it was magnetic. My senses were pervaded by him, all I could see, all I could smell was his musky stink.
- "Now sit still, keep your mouth shut and relax."
All I thought was that I should get up, stop him, get out of my office and call someone. My body was not of the same opinion. At his words, my arms fell on the arms of my chair, my neck relaxed, my legs stretched under the desk. Perhaps only my eyes showed the panic I felt inside. He meanwhile walked over to my chair, taking off his shirt and tank top as well.
- "You see, boss, I'm sorry I came in like this, I wish I had been more careful. Sadly, I didn't have much time, you were getting too suspicious. I hoped that somehow the influence I had been exerting on others had gotten to you as well, but I was wrong. Still, you were the one I was aiming for from the beginning, the others were just side effects. You know, as I grew up, I realized that the hormones in my sweat have a hypnotic effect, particularly on men. Males in my company relax, unwind, become affable. Some of them, without even asking too many questions about their sexuality, get visibly horny. My superior is one of those; that fat creepy man I had to work him over well, unfortunately. Being looked at by half the office with lust, being fucked by that gross old man, were the price I had to pay to get your attention and be here. And now, you will not slip away from me."
He reached out to me, raising his arm. His hairy armpit presented itself to my eyes, dripping with sweat, soaked in its own stench.
- "Sniff my armpit."
My mind begged not to obey, but my body was now under his command. I stretched my neck toward his armpit, reaching up to touch its hairs with my nose. His smell exploded on my face. No other thoughts were possible, only his scent. What had seemed to me an unbearable stench at first breaths became an increasingly good and irresistible perfume with each whiff. It was always a masculine, pungent, musky smell, but instead of repulsing me, it kindled in me a feeling of comfort. I don't know how long I spent with my head inside his armpit, but when he pulled away by moving his arm, I collapsed back into the chair. My face was fulfilled, my eyes half-closed, my mouth open in a smile, saliva dripping down my cheek. I was totally his. His hand gripped my face, forcing me to look into his eyes again.
- "Now get up and undress completely, quickly."
I did not have time to comprehend his words that I was already on my feet, intent on unbuttoning my jacket. I dropped it on the floor, then I took off my tie, shirt, shoes, underpants, socks, and underwear. Within seconds, I was completely naked in my office, standing in front of Sam. He was also standing and kept staring at my drooling face. - "Apparently you're one of those, look how aroused you are."
I hadn't noticed my erection, not really caring about it. My body displayed only the marks of the muscles it had a few years earlier, but it was still quite fit. I cared about keeping my chest shaved; it gave me a sense of cleanliness. But my crotch, legs and feet were covered with thick black hair. In the midst of this hair stood my cock. I had always been happy with my size; I had a dick of at least 8 inches, but I had never felt it so hard and throbbing, even for the most beautiful of women. - "Now, like a good dog, get on all fours."
I found myself with knees and arms on the ground. Only a small portion of my mind still resisted, screaming to run away. Sam stood in front of me. I realized only then that he was naked too. I looked first at his bare feet on the floor, then went up with my gaze. The small hairs on his legs led to his average-sized penis, wrapped in fine hair at the base. He was aroused, too. I moved my eyes up along the black trail of hair of his young, toned chest until I looked into his eyes.
- "This is where to look at me from, my big dog. There is no more boss, no more orders to give. To you I will no longer be an employee, to you I will be the most attractive person in the world. You will have no other purpose but to satisfy me, to please me. Now, like a good dog, smell the genitals you will fuck.”
He turned around and sat with his ass on my face. His anus and pubis released an even wilder, musky scent into my nose; he smelled of male, cum and sweaty balls. It was disgusting and putrid, it was…no,…it was the best thing I had ever sniffed. I felt flushes of heat start from my crotch and radiate throughout my body as I gasped and licked his genitals, front and back. The taste of his butthole and his ballsack were breath-taking. Sam let out a few satisfied moans as he continued to run his inner thighs over my face. Sam was just beautiful, he was the most gorgeous human being I had ever seen. And I was so lucky to be his, to be the object of his attention. I could have gone on like this forever, but he suddenly broke away. His face was flushed, his eyes watery. I could see his dick releasing long strands of pre-cum. He was really cute in that state, so lovely, so hot. - "Boy, you are just what I was hoping for. So good, so sexy. I couldn't wait to let you fuck me, from the first moment we shook hands I knew you had to be mine. So, it's time for us to seal a new contract. Sit down."
I stood up and walked over to my desk chair, resting my hairy butt on the leather. In front of me I could only see Sam, as excited as I was, watching me intensely. He climbed on top of me, opening his legs. From his hairy chest I could smell his magnificent, arousing aroma more and more as his gorgeous butt rubbed against my turgid cock. - "Now you are going to fuck me. It will be the best sex of your life. When you come inside me, you will be totally in love. You will have total devotion fo me, unwavering trust, unstoppable desire. I alone will be in your thoughts. Now mount me, stud."
I pounded his ass wildly. His butthole slid over my cock tightening it, it was just impossible not to let go of primal moans of ecstasy. It was the most beautiful feeling I had ever experienced, endless ecstasy. On my legs, Sam was swaying in orgasm as he raised his armpits and continued to rub his wonderful perfume into my face. I had never been happier. Every thought in my head was being overwritten. The work? Sam was more important. He was going to get a promotion, he had to have it. My girlfriend? I was going to break up with her right away, I was only going to have Sam from now on. The career? Only his mattered. He was the most important and beautiful thing, it was him, only him. When my cock erupted inside him, all these thoughts cemented themselves indelibly in my mind.
All this was now a year ago. It had been wonderful months, thanks to Sam, of course. His corporate ascent had been meteoric, as was mine. He always has brilliant ideas; after all, he is the smartest person I know. Our relationship is still secret, but we would soon make it public. I would have done it right away, but Sam do not want to pass as a social climber -- of course he's not. In a few years I would leave the company to him, stay home and wait for him, as he asked. He said his daddy didn't have to get tired, and he was right, as always. I still take sometime him around the world paying for all the trips, because I have to make him happy, after all, that's all he deserves. He is the most beautiful living being, an angel fallen from heaven. I feel so lucky to see him come into my house every night, to make him dinner, to wash his dirty clothes -- I always sniff them before laundry, trying not to touch myself. I am a happy man when he crawls into bed by my side and lets me have a sniff of his perfume, the wonderful smell of my Sam. I am so happy to fuck him, to be his stud bull, his stallion. I have a rich and happy life ahead of me, I feel like I finally have a purpose. All because I met Sam.
Jared cussed. His alarm didn't go of so now he was going to be late for work. He had just seen his tram leave right before he got to the doors.
He sat down on the bench as he grabbed his phone to call his boss to let him know he would be late. Before he could send dial he saw a tram slowly approaching him. Frowning Jared slowly gets up as he grabs his card to check in.
The tram stopped perfectly in front of him, and Jared gets on. He walks to the driver. "Ehm, excuse me, is this tram Going to the city Centre stop?"
The driver laughs mischievously and nods. "We take you to wherever you need to go."
Dumbfounded by the weird cryptic answer Jared sat down and looked around. The inside of the tram was a light pink, the seats have frilly cushions, and a faint rose scent permeates around the inside of the car. Two other guys are sitting a few rows behind Jared. Both are wearing similar clothes to him, a buttoned shirt and dress pants, but where you wore perfectly tailored clothes the other guys seemed to have washed them a bit too hot. The clothes were tight around their thick arms and their buttons were fighting for their lives.
Jared turned back around and put his headphones in. Not his fault people don't know how to buy clothes.
After a few stops Jared shifted in his seat. Grimacing he looked down to see his shirt looking a bit tighter than it was supposed to. Rubbing his stomach he felt a slightly more tense response than he was used to. He scratched chin feeling a bit of stubble, which in retrospect wasn't very surprising due to him not having time to shave in the morning.
Looking out of the window he noticed he was nearing his stop so he got up and walked to the nearest exit. Looking across the car he noticed two new guys sitting in the same spots as the two dudes that were in there before. They were very out of place in this princess pink tram. Their muscles were massive, pecs shelving, biceps bulging. They were eyeing eachother hungrily as the tram got to a stop. They looked up at you and both smiled with their perfect pearly whites.
Shuddering Jared quickly got off. He sighed as he stepped into the cold December air. While walking to his office, Jared felt his legs grind against eachother in a very uncharacteristic way. Looking down his pants seem to be hugging his legs a bit tighter than before. He brushed it off to it being do to having to leave in a hurry and shortly after got to the office.
The day went by in a blur. His colleagues congratulated him on multiple occasions on his physique, which actually got him more self-conscious than ever before, mostly due to the fact that he did not work out in the slightest. After a few hours he had enough of it and went to the bathroom to check.
As he looked into the mirror Jared was shocked to see his face more angular than he remembered. His jaw was sharp and there was a noticeable amount of scruff on his face. Looking at his body he noticed his arms tight in his shirt, similar to his legs.
"Oh... my... god..." Jared's face flushed as he noticed the obscene bulge his pants were containing.
"What is happening to me..." Jared thought out loud. His mind went into overdrive. Was it an allergic reaction? It couldn't be. He didn't have the time to eat anything he didn't before. Unless he's allergic to too much sleep that wasn't it.
The only conclusion left was...
"But that can't be..."
The tram. The weird ethereal, rose smelling, pink tram. Jared grabbed his phone and on his way back to his desk, searched online for any hits on "Pink tram transformation". The rest of his day was spend on browsing the web. At the end of the day he had finally found a hit. Apparently there was an urban legend where a pink tram will take you wherever you want in life. People would exit it changed in some way that would propel them in the right direction in life. A few warnings on the thread about people also going missing didn't seem to alarm Jared as he looked at the way to summon the pink tram. "You just have to be very adamant on going somewhere."
After going home Jared devised his plan. He had a day off tomorrow, so he had time to spare. So he would go to where no one has seemed to go before. The end of the tram.
______________________________________________________________
The next day Jared waited at the station for the next tram to arrive. He figured the best way for the tram to come would be after the regular one to have just left. After the last tram left, Jared closed his eyes and wished.
"I want to get to the end of the pink trams ride."
Like clockwork, he heard a tram approaching. He opened his eyes and saw the pink tram. Full with glee he entered the Tram. He saw the driver eyeing him up and down with a smirk.
"Welcome back"
"Thank you, there's no limit to how long I can ride this tram right?"
"No sir, we are glad to have you, please take a seat and enjoy the ride."
Jared smiled and made his way into the car. Looking around he noticed a handsome guy sitting alone and he decided to test something else. He sat down on the opposite side of the tram of the guy and looked him in the eyes.
"Hey, I'm Jared, where are you going?"
"Oh, hey, I'm Bruce, I'm just on my way to work. Funny story I missed my regular tram, but then this one showed up almost right after."
Jared grinned. "The same happened to me yesterday. Have fun!"
And with that Jared got up and walked to the back of the tram.
He kept an eye on the guy who seemed very enthralled into his phone. Slowly but surely, with each stop, Bruce's shoulders seemed to broaden out. He also seemed a bit taller and have a bit more scruff on his face, but before more could change, he got off.
Jared sighed. He wanted to have a bit more fun. Before he could linger on it though, he realized he was man spreading. He looked down. His legs, which he smartly had clad in baggy sweats, were twice the size they were before. His shirt was almost bursting at the seems with his pecs already pushing the limits of the buttons. Jared got up and ran a hand across his bulked up torso.
"This is insane! I'm massive!" Jared smiled and walked to the door, ready to get off. But the tram kept going. Not only that but it sped up. "H-hey I want to get off!" Jared yelled to the driver.
The driver got out of his cabin, slowly walking to the panicking man. "You wished to arrive at the end did you not?" The man got closer and closer. Jared's jaw dropped as he noticed the drivers physique. He was massive. Clad in leather, his muscles rippled underneath his clothes. A devilish smile appeared as he reached Jared.
"We will arrive shortly, time to speed things up a bit" The driver snapped his fingers and the Tram started to speed up more. The man smiled as the tram began shaking heavily. Each shake send a ripple through Jared's body. Every ripple pulsed his muscles bigger. His ass jiggled as it got bigger and bigger. His bulge began to strain his pants, his balls churning.
"W-wait... please." Jared moaned. He dropped to his knees, eye level with the drivers groin.
"W-who are you"
"I'm a long forgotten being, a god of pleasure and depravity. I ride this tram for my own fun, and I seem to have found my next play thing."
The man ran a hand through Jared's hair making his locks fall out, leaving a neat buzzcut. He grabbed his chin, more scruff appearing.
"By entering this tram you enter a contract with me. By exiting you fulfil it. You decided to stay on so you are now mine. Which means I get to do with you whatever I want." The god smiles, lighting a cigar and blowing the smoke into Jared's face. The smoke flows into his mouth and nose, making his head foggy. Slowly Jared feels his sense of self escape by blowing out the smoke. Looking back up at the man in front of him he sees the mans cock hanging out of his pants , an alluring scent wafting from his large rod and balls. Without a second thought he takes the whole length down his supple throat. With each bob of his head, Jared loses more and more of his identity. Before long, nothings left. a blank slate. As soon as the last drop of Jared leaves him, the man shoots his load into the young mans throat. As the cum fills his mouth, so does the new persona fill his mind. Jay looks up at his divine daddy, smiling as the salty substance fills his stomach. Warmth spreads all over his body as he begins to expand.
His chest fills with thick muscle and hot liquid, slightly sloshing around. His balls churn as more and more testosterone gets pumped through his body. His pits begin to emanate a subtle musk, while his feet are now permanently moist. His ass balloons out, lifting him more, pushing more and more of the mans dick into his mouth, which has grown longer in the time that Jared has drained out of him.
Slowly taking out the engorged rod from his Trophy boys mouth the man smiles. "I am Kama, but you can call me daddy boy, now rest."
And with those words, Jay falls unconscious, having reached the end of the trams ride.
______________________________________________________________
In the days that follows, Jay spends his time working out, and working as an assistant at his Daddy's office. He seems to be the owner of a large multi-faceted brand called Rakurai Inc. Its perfect for him. He only has to think of fun things to make men into fun boys. No hard thinking because most of the blood is spend in his massive rod. Oh right, Daddy is almost on break better send him a picture.
Kyle grins as he snaps a post-workout selfie, quickly sending it to the chick he met at the bar the night prior. His grin widens as he sits naked on his bed, thinking about her. He could still feel her lips against his, the way her hands roamed his body. He could still hear her moans. And as his thoughts continue, he absentmindedly strokes his hardening dick.
“Fuck...” He mumbles.
Probably one of the best hook-ups he had in a long-time. And he couldn’t wait for part two.
“Hey babe, you around tonight? Ready for round 2?”
He stares at his phone, awaiting Stacy’s... no Brittany’s... no... He chuckles as he realizes he doesn’t even remember her name. But did it matter? He’d make an effort to learn it tonight- he wasn’t the least bit concerned she would turn him down. Especially with that selfie he sent. His muscles bulging, dusted perfectly with manly hairs. Yeah- totally irresistible.
“Come on.” He whispers as he sees she’s writing a response.
His heart sinks when he receives her response- a selfie. And it is not a selfie of the blond, double-D, bombshell he bagged last night. No, this was a dude. A buff, cocky dude. Kyle feels his dick soften as his own cocky grin shifts to a frown.
“Hey there cutie.” The message underneath the selfie reads.
“Sorry, wrong number.” Kyle replies quickly.
A fake number? Really? Kyle felt pissed. Did she really give him a fake number? And who the fuck was this guy? And why did he call him ‘cutie’? Kyle groans as he realizes he wouldn’t be seeing her again. Her loss, he figured. The young man started to stand up, but his phone buzzed again. It was that guy.
“Come on, don’t be like that.”
“Lol, sorry bro. Chick gave me the wrong number.” Kyle replies, “Women, right? Lol.”
Based on the selfie, Kyle figured the guy frequented the gym. Maybe they’d have some stuff in common. And part of Kyle felt maybe he could commiserate with a fellow bro. But his thoughts slow as he stares at the pic. Drinking in each detail and contour of the man’s body. The guy’s massive, juicy pecs taking up most of the selfie. And Kyle absentmindedly wonders what they feel like. And as he scratches his chest, he does not register his chest hairs falling away, leaving him cleanshaven and smooth.
“Wouldn’t know, cutie.” The man replies, “Thought you’d know that after last night lol.”
Kyle raises an eyebrow- his thoughts speeding back up. What did this guy... ohhhhhh... Now he knew. Kyle feels rage build up at the realization. Was this guy flirting with him? First he gets a wrong number, now some gay guy is trying to make a move? Just his luck...
“Don’t swing that way, bro.” Kyle replies.
Kyle went to block the number, but something causes him to stop. What did the guy mean ‘after last night?’ Kyle knew he hooked up with a chick. And two, Kyle wasn’t gay. He’d never... Kyle shifts uncomfortably as his his wide frame and proud muscles begin to decay. The increasingly slender young man barely registering his shifting frame.
“You sure? Could’ve fooled me.”
Kyle bit his lip, “What’re you talking about?” He types with his increasingly more dainty and feminine hands. His thick callouses from his workouts smoothing over and becoming soft.
“Did I fuck your brains out or something, cutie?”
Kyle shifts uncomfortably as his ass swells, filling with squeezable fat. An ass no gay man would be able to resist.
“OMG please stop.” Kyle texts back, “Like, I don’t even know who you are.” He stares at the messages he just sent, part of him registering that something was off with his word choices.
“What about now?”
Kyle gasped at the selfie the man set. His perfectly chiseled muscles and exposed pits causing him to blush. A thought crosses his mind- he would want nothing more than to be laying on that man’s chest. To thrust his nose into those dark, musky forests. And as he thinks of more things he’d want this man to do to him, he strokes his dick. Up and down, up and down. Not even registering that his prided manhood was getting smaller. And smaller. And smaller yet. Settling on a measly three inches hard.
“Like, no... something’s like totes...”
Kyle moans as the pleasure from stroking his dick suddenly intensifies tenfold. And then begins to dwindle, only to return. But he realizes it’s no longer his dick that brings him pleasure. No, it’s his ass. His hole clenching desperately for something to fill it. His mind racing with the new realization that he desperately needs his prostate stimulated.
“Need another reminder?”
Kyle can barely contain the feminine moan that escapes him as he gazes upon a dick pic from the stranger. And as he stares at it, licking his increasingly puffier lips, he realizes he needs it. And he needs it now. In his mouth, in his ass- anywhere. As long as it was inside him.
“Please daddy, I need it.” Kyle quickly texts back, sending a selfie of his own.
“Good boy. See ya soon slut.”
Kyle moans again, as his ass pulses with pleasure. The anticipation clouding his mind, his thoughts slowing. But as he stares at his new selfie, he can’t help but feel that this is wrong. That he wasn’t some smooth, bubble-butt, horny twink desperate for a quick fuck. No... he was... he was... A giggle escapes his increasingly puffy lips and he stands up. His ass sticks out as he saunters over to the mirror. Drinking in his new look. Loving his thicc ass, his small cock, and lean figure. His mind filling with all the knowledge he would need to please any man and a desire to do just that.
“Mmmmm daddy...” He moans, as he squeezes his own ass. His voice sultry and high-pitched.
It’s only a few minutes later until there’s a knock on his door. And the young twink saunters over, opening to reveal the man he had been texting with. Only a few minutes later, his nose is buried in the man’s musky pits. His memories of the girl yesterday vanishing from his mind. And as he deep throats the man’s dick, any interest he may have had in growing his muscles vanishes. It’s only when he’s thrown onto the bed, his ass up in the air, does Kyle panic. A sense of dread filling his psyche. Images of the man he was- his memories- filling his mind. But it all comes to a screeching halt as he feels his partner’s dick enter him. And with each thrust and feminine moan that leaves Kyle’s lips, more of these memories vanish.
Its only a few minutes later that the man leaves. Kyle is still lying in bed, cum leaking from his needy hole. His mind in shambles. But as the post-orgasm bliss fades, Kyle can feel the desire for round two start to grow. And with an ass like that, Kyle wouldn’t be waiting for long.
I can't remember what made me follow you, but I am really glad I did ! I especially love your musk related story, BO is such a turn on for me, I'm into stinky men and you describe them so well...
Thanks, bro. I love imagining guys getting sweaty and stinky, dripping musky sweat and leaving smelly sweatprints on everything they touch. Sucking on their cheesy cocks and musky toes…
Dude, when was the last time you showered? The last time it rained? It’s been weeks! And every day, you spend hours sweating in the gym and hiking in the summer heat. No wonder I can smell you the moment you come in the door, considering how much you sweat just sitting down.
Not that it’s a bad thing. Show off those hairy armpits for me, bro. Mmm, smells so tangy and good. Give yourself a good sniff. You can just feel the musky stench dissolving what remains of your brain. Take off those sweat-stained socks and let me lick those big bro feet.
Bro.
BRO!
Bro…
Huhuhu, bruh, you, like, totally came in your boxer briefs, just from sniffing your musky bod! We should, huhu, go and find some lame nerds you can dumb down and musk up with your greasy unwashed musclebod. Like the bros reading this! See that, bros? You can smell my bro’s musky feet right through the computer screen, huhuhu. Let the stench get you all musky and dumb, just like us. Then we can all get even sweatier together, bros!
If this got you horny, consider putting some spare change in my Ko-fi cup so I can write even more hot stories.
I need to write this paper. I need to… flex my biceps. The paper is due tomorrow. It’s half my grade for the semester. If I don’t finish this paper, I’ll fail the class. I could lose my scholarship. But my biceps. God, they feel amazing. They look amazing. My whole body looks amazing. The formula my roommate has been giving me is amazing. I am so grateful. I am so lucky that he is my roommate.
I need to go to the gym. I need to work out. I can finish this paper later, when I get home from the gym. I can finish it after I’m done taking my supplements and making my protein shake and planning my meals for the week. Then, I will finish this paper.
It’s not that important, anyhow. It’s half my grade, but I don’t need that class. I need to work on my body. I don’t care about my grades, I don’t care about that class. I need to take easier classes next year, so that I can focus more on my body. I need to take more classes about sports and nutrition. I should probably change my major.
How did this file get open on my computer? I should be making a playlist for my workout. Getting myself pumped up for the gym. This looks like some sort of a paper. I wasn’t writing a paper. I definitely wasn’t. Was I?
/includes: jock tf, getting handsomer, getting taller, gay to straight
Danny looked at Chris in shock. They hadn't seen each other in months, but they both had come back to their hometown for Thanksgiving. Since they were both in town, they decided to catch up over dinner.
Only the man in front of Chris wasn't the same 5'5" twiggy computer science major. The man in front of him was at least 6'3" nearly a foot taller than the old danny, and incredibly buff. Danny was never horrible looking to Chris but it was like a hollywood casting agent had replaced him. He was recognizable if you squinted enough, but the sharp jawline and giant brown eyes just drew you in.
"So what have you been up to man?" Danny was the first to break the silence.
"Uh not much, just school yaknow...."
Chris couldn't stop staring at his huge pecs. Not fully being able to make conversation
"How about you?"
"Oh not much! Recently I invented a new device that lets me change the fabric of reality."
Dan said with a smile, casually. His sensual voice singled out in the loud restraunt, it was like it was the only thing that Chris could focus on.
Chris didn't know how to respond, he watched danny pull out a small device that looked much like a normal smartphone. He tapped a few things and put it back in his pocket.
Suddenly he grew a few more inches to 6'10". His aura becoming much more enchanting, like he was the only thing in the universe thay existed.
As the waitress came over, she couldn't help but only look at the muscular adonis and not Chris.
"What can i get started for you guys?" She said, only looking at Danny.
"Actually, i think we changed our mind, we're gonna go somewhere else. Thank you so much for your help, heres a tip."
Danny said as he got up, gesturing for Chris to do the same. Chris hadn't seen him at his full height yet, it was stange to see his once best friend be a full foot taller than his own 5'10"
The waitress couldnt stop blushing as she just nodded and walked away, as chris stood up he realized he was fully erect.
"Haha already gunnin for it huh?" Danny said as he smirked, flexing his pecs.
---
They walked around a nearby park, chris dumbfounded unable to speak by the giant hunk next to him.
"So, i actually came to meet you for a reason."
Danny wanted him? He couldn't believe it. Chris looked up at him, surprised and blushing.
They both stopped walking as danny held chris' hands.
"I want you to serve me, Chris."
Suddenly, the ground dropped from underneath him as he buckled into himself, pure bliss and euphoria came over him as he came right there.
His limbs elongated and his shoulder broadened as they filled out with muscle. He moaned as his voice dropped a few octaves.
"I want you to take on the persona of a dumb straight frat bro."
Chris clutched his head as he felt his hands grow bigger, his mind losing memories of being any sort of intellectual. He had gotten by with his looks and athletic ability alone, and thats all he needed.
He stood up as his package slithered down his newly formed sweatpants.
"Now look at me pretty boy."
Danny grabbed him by the jaw as his face reformed into a much more appealing form. His jawline sharpened as his eyes lightened. Cheekbones rising as his face became perfectly symmetrical. Danny whispered in his hear one more time
"We're gonna be a couple, but you will be in denial. Girls dont do it like i do."
Danny gave him a long sloppy kiss as he trailed down his new muscular body, making sure to trace each nipple as he licked his way down his taut muscular defined torso.
Chris moaned as he felt danny start bobbing on his 10 inch member. He had never felt anyone's tongue be so skilled. This was far better than any girl he's ever had sex with.
Danny was pleasuring himself as sucked chris off, his huge 18 inch python calling for Chris' hole.
As chris came over and over again he looked down at his bro. Covered in cum.
"Now its your turn to serve me, turn around."
Chris fell into the grass. Pulling down his sweats, his muscular ass straight up in the air, pulsating as it felt it's master so close to it.
Danny felt his slick in his hands as he continued to massage it. He flopped it around a little as he held it by the thick veiny base.
"No homo though though, right?"
"No homo bro"
Continued from PART 1
I stood there, slackjawed in awe. In the forefront of my mind, I saw the guy I've always been; deeper down within me, yeah, something was off. Of course I was always slim, I was always sinewy. Though, if that's the case, why couldn't I shake that feeling? Maybe it was the fact I was wearing Alejo's shirt and jockstrap... Maybe it was the fact that I'd cummed so much my balls ached...
"Yo, dude! I'm bootin' up Smash Bros, hurry up!" Alejo called out from his bedroom, snapping me back into reality. Though, just to be safe, I snapped a quick selfie. In case something was off, I would be able to compare before and after at least.
I walked back into the room, and Alejo grinned. I picked up the dripping fleshlight from my seat, tossing it back onto his bed- droplets of our mingled spunk flying across the room. Plopping down onto the couch, I picked up the controller off the floor and leaned back as Alejo tossed that firm and strong arm around my shoulder. As the game flashed to life on the screen, the confusion over my reflection just melted away.
"Fuck, bro. This is the fuckin' life! Kickin' back with your buds, strokin' and tokin'." His enthusiasm and cheerfulness hadn't taken a single hit in days. That newfound energetic zeal and laid back persona had lasted throughout the nightly fleshlight swapping, the copious amounts of cannabis, the scary movies, the 'deep' conversations... the new Alejo was a different man, and he was more than willing to share that energy. "Speakin' of which, pack a bowl for us so I can kick your ass off this platform." I chuckled, reaching over to the bong and grinder to stuff more of his weed into the bowl. Though, as I unscrewed the top- horror.
"Oh shit, I think you're out of weed." Alejo paused the game, turning to me with a look of shock on his face. He rose, searching through drawers, shoeboxes, the abyss that sat beneath his bed... indeed his confused face showed we were out.
"Fuck. Aight, I'm gonna go restock on the good shit." He walked over to a pile of his clothes, slipping on a pair of jeans and shoving his big bare feet into his ripe AF1's. "Hang tight, bro. Give me like twenty minutes, I'll be back and we'll be sky high!" He leaned over, high fiving me and ruffling my hair as he walked toward the front door. I couldn't help but follow like a lost puppy, feeling as if I were tethered to my good bro. He turned to me just before turning the knob, and smiled. "Aww, I know you wanna come with. But my plug doesn't like new people around when we buy."
"I get it." I lied, my eyes drifting down to his crotch. He'd only just put on those jeans and there was already a puddle of dampness outlining his dick. "Might wanna clean up before you go, though!" I pointed at his sticky patch; all he did was look down and smirk.
"Heh, can't help it, bro!" He grasped onto his bulge, flashing those bright white teeth at me. "Been churning out my ball batter for days, bro. Free advertising, am I right?" I couldn't help but stare. His 'ball batter' had been coating my cock for hours at a time the last two nights, and the only thing in my head each time I see his wet groin is an image of that firehose spraying down my throat or straight up my cock. Though I thought I was being discreet, evidently I was not. His brows furrowed and he beckoned me toward him with a single finger, his other hand slipping beneath the black band of his underwear.
I slowly walked toward him, that musky funk wafting from his body wrapping around me again. It had become my own private little oasis, the moment it slithered inside of my nose I felt safe and satisfied. Within arm's reach, he let his left hand slide down my back and onto my tight ass, pulling me chest to chest with him.
"Bro, I have a feelin' you're coppin' feelings for me." He teased gently, squeezing my ass as he fondled himself in his jeans. "We got close these last few days, yeah?" Pulling his right hand out of his pants, his fingers were coated in his slimy pre; the scent of his unwashed dick paired with the sharpness of his thick white seed grew stronger as his fingers inched closer and closer to my face. Leaning in, he whispered. "Cuz I think I got some feelings for you too, bro." The slimy fingers pressed against my lips, easily pushing past and into my mouth. The tanginess, the cheesiness, the saltiness, the sweetness... it was like fireworks going off in my mouth as I sucked his 'ball batter' off his sweaty fingers. He smiled even more- I'd given him an answer without so much as a word. "Ooooh, yeah I think we're gonna be playing a different kind of Smash Bros when I get back, babe."
He leaned in, pressing his lips against mine. I felt his tongue slip and slide over mine, the remnants of his slimy spunk being shared between us before he pulled away. He winked at me one final time before walking out the door, closing it behind him. I was alone in the apartment. The moment played on repeat in my head, those supple lips against mine, his hard chest pressed against me, his hand gripping my rear, the pungent taste of that pre... I wanted it. I wanted him. I wanted more.
I walked back into his room, realizing quickly that it seemed smaller than before. As if the ceiling had dropped, or the floor had. Looking down at my feet on the floor, I'd noticed they'd left big sweaty footprints from the kitchen to Alejo's room... I turned to the pile of his dirty laundry by the bed, with a raised eyebrow. Surely nothing would have fit, he was at least a foot taller than I was... wasn't he? As I thought about it, he didn't need to bend over to kiss me, he simply pressed his lips against mine... Huh... I must've had a growth spurt. The yellow jockstrap he'd donned on me barely fit compared to an hour ago, though I did end up adding my own pre to the mix after that little make out sesh...
I tugged the yellow underwear down, my erect cock springing upward as I did. Long, slender, slime oozing from under my hood... The little voice in the back of my mind screamed at me that I was cut... his weed must have really fucked me up. I tossed the strap onto the bed, and knelt down, rummaging through the pile of Alejo's clothes. Finding a much better fit in his cumstained black Calvin Klein's, I slipped my big feet through the holes, slipping it up over my thick thighs and onto my lean waist. The band snapped- a perfect fit. I pressed my pulsating bulge against the sticky fabric, sighing in ecstasy at his leftovers from the night before laminated my rod and sac.
A pair of black sweatpants sat deep in the pile, looking comfy as fuck. Pulling them out, they fit like a glove as I slid them up my long legs and right atop my bulging basket. It didn't take long before a little damp patch started to appear on the black fabric, slowly growing in size as I found his beat up Chucks. Size 14... just like mine... I don't know why I thought I wore size 10! Slipping my feet into the well loved, damn ripe high tops, it felt as if they were meant for me. My toes fell right where Alejo's sit, I could feel the depressions where those smelly dogs pressed into insoles. I turned to the mirror, dressed from the waist down in his threads, looking damn sexy. The sweatpants fell just below my abs, the cum gutters pointing directly to my leaky faucet.
I turned and collapsed onto his bed. Closing my eyes, all I could think about was his smile, his scent, that musty cock, that tangy spunk and how it felt in my mouth. I was pawing my throbbing member through Alejo's clothes, not even realizing I was doing it. My balls ached as I moaned, thinking about his lips against mine, about that cock in my mouth, his cum in my hole... I needed release.
My elbow touched something, and opening my eyes, I grinned as I saw what it was. His condom- Alejo's creamed condom, and one with one hell of a load sitting within. It was like my body was on autopilot, my brain could barely keep up. Within seconds I'd untied the knot up top, and pried it open. I brought it to my nose, taking a deep whiff. Fuck, it was so good. It was like sniffing that cheesy cock right under my nose, followed by that sharp cum stench that had sat in rubber for a couple days. A lightbulb went off in my head, as I slowly pulled the waistbands down, releasing my musky member from it's sweaty, slimy prison. I brought the rubber down to my head, pulling my hood down to easily let the slippery rubber slide over it.
I tugged, letting the top heavy condom slide down my shaft, until I felt Alejo's seed at the tip of my cockhead. I sighed in euphoria as the cool slime cascaded over my cock as the rubber fit perfectly in place. I just stared at it for a moment as it pulsated before my eyes. Slowly, I wrapped my hand around it- sounds of the squelching slick rubber holding his load tight against my rod. All I had to do was pull up, and push down. Up and down. His load sloshed around inside of the condom, lubing my cock as I pumped.
My body glistened with beads of sweat, illuminating the sick ink I must've got done recently on my arms. My abs rose and fell with my breath as I pumped, my juicy pecs jiggling as I thrust into my hand. Shit, I could barely breathe... Yet... I needed more. The fleshlight sat to the right of my head, still dripping our loads from earlier. I grinned as I snatched it up, holding it above my face. Globules of our cum rained down onto my face as I kept thrusting into his condom, the fleshlight coming closer and closer to my face until mere millimeters from my face. Oh, the scent.. the taste... As I plunged my tongue into the silicone hole, I must have reached nirvana. The slimy splurge slid across my tongue as I rimmed the fleshlight, lapping up every drop I could. Moans, cacophonous moans bellowed out from within me as I surrendered to the lust. My brain grew fuzzy, my mind grew dim.
I could only continue to thrust into my hand, and bury my face in the fleshlight; nothing else mattered. That craving for Alejo's spunk inside of me, dripping from me, possessing me... it's all that my warping mind could focus on. In fact, so enraptured was I with the filth and lust that I didn't even notice the front door opening and closing. Nor did I hear the heavy squeaking footfalls across the tile kitchen floor.
"Well fuck, bro. Couldn't help yourself, huh?" I pull the fleshlight away from my face to see Alejo leaning against the doorframe, his long dripping python straining against the sticky denim of his jeans. I smirked, my bright white teeth sparkled as his cum ran down the corners of my mouth. "How's about I tag in real quick, would you like that, babe?" I moaned with an unquenchable thirst in affirmation as he unbuttoned the jeans, taking a step forward before pulling down his black underwear to reveal that gorgeous 10 incher and pulsating swollen balls. He crawled onto the bed, grabbing my legs and hoisting them up into the air, my perky bubble butt beckoning for him. "Fuck you're so sexy in my clothes, babe." I feel the slimy head of his dirty cock press against my tight hole as he wraps his hand around my dick in his smelly condom. "You're gonna be even sexier when I fill you up."
He wasted no time, slowly pushing his member past my contracted sphincter. I yelped in ecstasy as he slid inside of me, going deeper and deeper until his sweaty balls pressed against my cheeks. I put my hands behind my head as he thrust into me, pumping my cock in tandem with his rhythm. Slow, sensual, and tender, his pace quickened. My hole seemed to mold to his perfect cock, massaging every inch of him as he picked up the pace. The sound of slimy slaps of our skin grew faster and louder, his grunts and my moans following suit.
"Oh fuck, bro. Your ass is so much better than the fleshlight man. Fuuuuck." Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. You could hear the tendrils of his precum lubing him as he kept thrusting until his breaths became labored and short. "Ohhh. Oh fuck, bro. You want summa this bro batter? You want me to fill you up with this hose?" I nearly screamed in confirmation, one last smirk and a deep slam inside of me, and I felt the torrent of his load flow in. One barrage, two barrages, three... four... five... his cock was indeed a hose, dumping what seemed like gallons from his baseball sized veiny balls into my body. I shot my load into his condom, swearing for just a second that instead of expelling my own seed, it was his rushing into my cock flowing straight into my balls, doubling... tripling... quadrupling their size with the sheer volume of his cum invasion. In that moment, I felt every ounce of strife and anxiety wash out of me. I felt nourished, rejuvenated, virile, and satisfied. He stripped the empty condom off my cock, pulling himself out of me as my hole closed up behind. We grinned, letting our tongues mingle once again, not wanting to part ways ever again. Not even for a single moment. We were tethered, we were one unit together. He pulled away for just a moment before standing up and pulling me to my feet.
"Oh fuck, babe. We're gonna be doing that a lot more often." I grinned, wrapping my strong arms around his waist. "In fact... you down for round two?" He didn't need to ask twice. I spun him around, bending him over the side of the couch; his plump ass begging to be plugged with my musky 10 incher.
---
Bianca, or should I say Bianco now, burst into the apartment. His sinewy muscles still dripping with sweat from the run across town to see his man. He called out, walking through the puddles of steaming white slime that had pooled across the tile floor. Our ripe threads and roached joints littered the apartment, our combined musk permeated every inch of the place.
"Yo, babe. Where you at? Why am I so fuckin' horny, bro? I just wanna dump my seed into anything that moves... what's wrong with me?" He walked toward the open balcony door, following the river of spunk and the slurps emanating from the outside. He rounded the corner, turning his head and smirked.
My hands held Alejo's pretty head as I speared his mouth with my tool. Fuck, he knows how to use that tongue as it wrapped around my length like a spiraling snake, my cum dripping like rain out of his mouth as he drank it down. I turned to face Bianco, winking at the sexy specimen of newfound manhood.
"Sup, B?" I gasped as I unleashed yet another torrent of my seed down Alejo's throat. "You want a turn, man? He sure knows how to drink it down, heh." I dismounted my best bro's face, his tongue hanging over the tip of his chin like a panting dog. "I'm gonna go pack us a bowl, bro. You two have fun, eh?" I slapped Bianco on the back as I walked away, hearing the unzipping of his pants and sighs of satisfaction.
Alejo had been gone for the long weekend, and I have to say it was bittersweet. Sure, it was nice to have the apartment to myself, but he and I get along quite well! You would hope after two years of rooming together that you get to a point where there's a sort of balance and understanding between you and your roommate. In my case, it's absolutely true. We've gotten comfortable with eachother, I've gotten used to his girlfriend Bianca coming to hang out on 'Game Night Fridays;' overall, its been a great experience.
So, even though a quick Friday to Monday trip for Alejo and Bianca was nothing extensive, I was extremely excited to see him again. In fact, receiving his text that he'd arrived back safely at the flat had my head spinning with curiosity about his time in Rio. I rounded the corner, and another ping rang from my phone. I look down and my brow immediately raises quizzically. He'd lost his apartment keys? Looking down at my phone as I walked up to the building, I was moderately perplexed. The normally tight-wound, meticulous Alejo would never lose track of his keys, let alone be so relaxed in the midst of it. He was back from an international vacation, however, so I dismissed it as a brain fart after a long day of traveling. Though as I pulled the heavy glass door open to our building lobby, the sight that met me should have dismissed that simple explanation right off the bat.
"Ayy! Dante!" The name caught me off guard. William Dante Alaverdian. That's my name. I always introduce myself as Will, or even William if we had just met. Dante is never the name I use in my everyday life, only a few people would know it- and one of them sat on the top of the room divider looking quite different from the last I had seen him.
"Dante!" He sat on the half wall, grinning from ear to ear. It was indeed Alejo, though not the Alejo that had departed his apartment a week prior. His hair was short and cropped; his arms were covered in ink. Gone were the polos, the khaki shorts, the boat shoes... all replaced with a sweaty black tank top, baggy jeans, and bulky Nikes. This was quite an aesthetic departure from that I had known, and far more than a meager wardrobe change. Even the demeanor in which he sat on the wall belied a strangely rebellious attitude, only further confirmed by the irritated glance of the lobby security guard he so blissfully ignored.
"Alejo... Is that you? Get off that, the guard is watching!" Alejo turned to see the man, scoffing as he hopped off the wall. As he strutted forward, I noticed his stature. He was always a tall guy, but as he approached me it was clear that a couple of inches had been added to his height. He slapped me on the back, pulling me into a tight hug.
"Man, I missed you!" His voice even sounded... off. Relaxed pronunciation of consonants, a somewhat higher timbre to his speech, had he gotten his teeth done? I looked Alejo up and down, completely perplexed.
"You look... Different..." Alejo chuckled, looking at his arms with a somewhat dim grin on his face.
"Ah, yeah. Might have gone overboard with the tatts. But it looks pretty sick, right?" He nudged me, his elbow jabbing into my side and laughing before tossing his arm around my neck. I didn't know how to react. We made our way to the elevator, this newfound stranger acting as if everything was normal. "Sorry I lost the keys, bro. I don't know where my head is these days, huhu!" This jovial tone, if not borderline braindead, was yet another new characteristic which set off alarms within me. Despite our friendship, I'm not afraid to admit Alejo was something of a sour personality, sometimes treading into insufferable territory with his pessimistic outlook on his life and the world around him. Again, I dismissed it as a rejuvinated and relaxed guy who had just returned from a good vacation.
"Yeah, I'm eager to hear about your trip and all of... this." I tried to pretend as if I didn't notice the shift, smiling as the elevator doors opened and we walked onto the empty lift. It began it's slow trek to the eighth floor, and that's when I first caught the scent. Sharp, musky... As if he'd forgotten his deodorant that morning. Yet another peculiarity for such a... perfectionist of his caliber. I try to ignore the subtle wafts from his pits with a subject change. "So... do you know where your keys are?" I hoped he'd be able to suffer through the smell until we were in fresher air.
"Oh, heh! Fuck, bro. I don't know, hah! Probably in the Uber. Maybe Bianca had 'em in her purse. Who knows, bro." I was less than enthused, but willing to overlook it. A quick replacement key made at the keysmith and that would be that. Though as he started to blather on about Ipanema and the girls on the beach... that's when I first noticed it. Perhaps the sight of it was blocked by the bagginess of the jeans at first glance, but as Alejo stood there completely upright, I could see it. A rather considerable patch of dampness on the crotch of his jeans.
"Fuck! Alejo did you fucking wet yourself?" He casually glanced down at his groin, a daft giggle escaping his lips.
"Oh. Nah it's not piss. I'm just a bit leaky today, if you know what I mean!" My jaw hung wide open, aghast at the audacity of what I'd had heard. This display did not go unnoticed by Alejo, who quickly brushed it off. "It's just a little pre, my dude. It's not gonna hurt ya!" The elevator doors opened, the clean air of the hallway rushing into the confined space. I quickly exited the elevator and quickly started to walk toward the apartment door.
Sticking my key into the lock, I watched as a wry grin slithered onto his face as he walked inside. It was only then as he strutted over the couch and crashed onto his back, smirking as he scrolled through his phone that I realized... where were his bags?
"Uh, Alejo... Did you forget something else? Your luggage?" He didn't even look up from his phone- smiling and waving off my concern.
"Craziest shit, my dude. I guess I packed old clothes or somethin', when I got there like half of my stuff didn't fit. So, a couple of cool dudes I met at the hotel were happy to share some threads. Should be gettin' here in a day or two!" Alejo kicked his sneakers off, landing with loud thuds on the floor, showing of his dirty socks. At this point, I can't deny it- something is wrong. A clean freak like Alejo wouldn't be caught dead with dirty, pungent socks on his feet. Especially without a care in the world. I sit there in awe for a moment, confused beyond all confusion before I head into my room to escape the cheesy scent of his sneakers wafting through the air.
The next few days, I watched Alejo with a careful eye. His pristine appearance had all but disappeared. Gone were the days of his pressed and tidy button ups, crisp chinos and Sperries. Instead, every day as I left to go to work, he'd dressed in whatever his Brazilian 'bros' had sent him. Jerseys, baggy jeans, gold chains, high top Chucks, tank tops, crop tops, Nikes... and the now ever present and seemingly growing wet patch on his crotch. I didn't recognize my roommate of two years whatsoever. Even coming home after a long day at the office, he'd be in his room with the door locked with loud music at all times of the night. Smoke would flow from under the door more and more, easily identifiable as cannabis- yet another thing that the Alejo I knew had been vehemently opposed to, and now suddenly a nightly user.
Don't get me wrong, he was always as cordial and friendly as before- if not more. He'd try to invite me to play whatever FIFA game he'd bought in his room, or to go to have drinks at a bar... But the more I observed him, the less I could pin him down. I'd started spending more and more time in the courtyard before heading in to the apartment: finishing spreadsheets for work or just watching YouTube videos. Yeah, I was avoiding him. I'd signed up to room with the old Alejo... not whoever this was. Every time I'd come in late, he'd already be in his room, music blaring and smoke flowing from the crack in the door. He didn't say anything for a while, I assume thinking that I was working later and later. With this newfound dumbass brain he seemed to have, it would have made sense. Though, as I walked through the courtyard doors that Saturday night, that tactic quickly came to an end.
"Dante!" I stopped dead in my tracks, turning to the chair across the pool to see Alejo sitting there with a smirk on his face. "Cmon roomie, let's talk." I approached slowly, noting the gigantic damp patch on his jeans yet again. This time, so wet in fact that one could see the sheen of his slimy pre reflecting on the surface of the fabric. I took the chair next to him, sitting down in front of him quietly, awaiting whatever it was he was going to say.
"Bro, I feel like you've been hiding from me! Where you been?" He spread his legs widely for me, his smelly Chucks landing on either side of my chair. The stain on his groin was fully visible now, massive in fact- almost the size of his entire hand. I could smell the almost chlorine scent of cum mixed with the strong scent of unwashed cock bellowing out of his pants. "It's like you've been avoiding me ever since I got back..." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face a mere foot or so away from mine. Flashing a sly grin with his perfect teeth, I found myself feeling... objectified. Though his eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, I could feel them roaming over me. "Could it be because you're just taking in the new and improved Alejo? 'Cuz I could get that. Things are a little different now, I'm definitely feelin' myself these days..."
I watched with absolute confusion, quickly shifting to shock as he brought his hand to the wet bulge in his pants, slowly kneading it. You could hear the squishing, slimy sound of his wet crotch... And here's the thing. As a very out and proud gay man, this sort of situation playing out would be very different if it were anyone else other than Alejo. The guy was as straight as an arrow, planning on engaging Bianca in the next few weeks. This Alejo looked at me like a wet pussy ready to be bred. But in that moment, I found myself watching his lustful smirk, pawing at his dripping crotch, even taking the time to bring his finger to his lips- suckling on it.
"I think... it's about time you took me up on roomie time." Alejo leapt up, strutting to my side, his fragrant crotch in front of my face. "Whaddya say, bro?" I suppose the right word to describe myself as I stared at the outline of his lengthening bulge straining against his jeans would be... dicknotized. No rhyme... no reason... just letting the moment come to pass with no hesitation. All my concerns, all of my suspicion melted away as I took his hand and followed him back to the elevator and up to our apartment. We stopped in front of his door for a moment, just for him to turn to me and say, "Excuse the mess, bro. Heheh."
He opened the door, and had I not been completely encapsulated by his flirtatious energy, I would have been floored. The room was a disaster. Dirty laundry strewn all over the floor, the comforter tossed into the corner, sweat stained sheets on the mattress, a gigantic bong on the side table, but above all... condoms. Used condoms, untied and hanging on every surface in the room. A fleshlight uncapped sat on the bed, his spunk still dripping from the clear silicone hole. The room stank of weed, cum, dick, and feet- on the balcony, pairs of reeking sneakers sat piled up.
Each of these things would have turned me off in their own right. Questionable hygiene aside, the state of the room itself should have been enough for me to have legitimate reason to pass on 'hanging out' with him. Yet, that wasn't what happened. I saw him flash those pretty brown eyes, smile with those plump lips, and I couldn't bring myself to say no. I walked into the room as he shut the door.
"Take a load off, bro. I'll pack us a bowl." I did as he suggested, sitting down onto the bed, my gaze subtly shifting between his beautiful ass bending over to tend to the bong and the dripping fleshlight to my left. He turned around, picking up the bong and plopping down next to me. He smiled as he ignited the bowl, taking in a deep breath of smoke before blowing a large cloud into the air with a satisfied sigh. "Ahh, that's better. Here ya go, bro."
He handed me the bong. He fell backward onto his back, his arms behind his head as he waited for me to take a toke. The water seemed mostly clean, a white film seemed to sit atop the basin, but surely nothing to worry about if he'd just taken his own hit. I brought the bong to my lips, flicked the lighter and inhaled the dank, salty smoke that filled the pipe. I coughed as I let out my very first toke of weed. Alejo smiled and laughed.
"Bro! You goin' WILD on your first time out! Atta boy!" I mirrored his smile as the smoke flowed from my mouth. "Here, dude I found a new show for us. We're gonna do roomie time every night, man." Though it wasn't the Alejo I'd known, it was great to have him around again. We continued to smoke as he put on some ridiculous show: four best friends in Boston and their shenanigans owning a bar. As we watched the show, taking turns with the bong, I could tell where the show's tone was headed... The guys were always paling around, roughhousing, just four idiots being idiots; good looking idiots at that. I can't say I was super into the show, but strangely enough, neither was Alejo. I could feel his penetrating stare and smirk from behind me, watching me, roaming over my body. Just the feeling of being ogled was enough for me to endure 'roomie time.'
We finished three or so episodes that night before I had to head to bed. Standing up, I made my excuses and headed toward the door. I exited, and as I closed the door, I peeked through the crack just in time to see him unzipping his jeans and grabbing ahold of the fleshlight. I quickly shut the door, and headed back to my room. By the time I did, the loud music began to bang through the walls. Though, upon listening closer that evening, I could hear him moaning through the guitar riffs.
The next morning, I awoke with quite the headache. The weed must have hit me hard last night. I was groggy, the room was spinning, a sharp pain in my forehead radiating like a screwdriver being jabbed into my brain. I stumbled to my feet and walked toward the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, my eyes were still bloodshot, and I'd been sweating all night long, my underwear drenched in sweat. I brought my hand to my forehead- yup, a fever indeed. I called off of work shortly after and dragged my feet to the kitchen. Alejo stood there shirtless, making eggs with a chipper smile on his face.
"Morning, bro! I made us some breakfast before you go to..." He turned, catching sight of me seemed to take him aback. "Whoa... You look rough, dude. You feeling okay?" I rubbed my face, pain still radiating from my head.
"I don't know... Do you usually get headaches after smoking?" He stood there for a moment, as if he were trying to remember what we had done last night before he broke out laughing.
"Oh shit, bro! I forgot how much you hit the bowl last night! Heheh, yeah I bet you feel like shit. Here, I got just the thing for it." He dropped the pan with the eggs onto the countertop, and strutted toward his room. He waved for me to follow, which I did in my still somewhat inebriated state. The room was even more discheveled if you can believe it, the fleshlight sitting ever present on his pillow. From his top drawer, he pulled out a small bag. "Here, bro, take one of these."
He dropped two small white gummies into my hand. Without hesitation, I gulped them down. Coconut flavor... with a strange peppery aftertaste. Alejo smiled and patted me on the back.
"Best way to cure a weed hangover? More weed, bro. Wait 'til these kick in, you'll be chilled out in no time." I should have known better, I should have asked what they were, I should have just gotten some chicken soup and suffered through it. But I didn't. I just stared at Alejo's bright smile, his beautiful tanned muscles, the huge wet spot on his black pants... I was getting more and more smitten with him by the second. "Bro, the bright side is... we got all day for roomie time! Here, chill here, I'll get the eggs and we can kick it all day long!" He scurried out of the room, leaving me alone in his room.
I looked down at my feet as I walked toward the bed, walking over his condoms and crusty socks with care until I sat down on the mattress. His scent was thick in the room, the sheets had soaked up his sweat like a sponge, and the open balcony door wafted in the ripe scent of his sneakers. The smell was starting to grow on me, for a reason I can't explain, I started to associate pungent scent with the new Alejo... The one I couldn't stop thinking about, the one who I'd all but started to thirst for. I leaned back, waiting for the ringing in my ears to subside, before I realized that something cool and sticky was sitting beneath my palms. Turning around, I quickly sat up upon seeing just what it was: his dirty thong.
I shuffled over to the other side of the bed, staring at the slimy red thong sitting alone atop the stained sheets. I looked at my hand, still sticky... I knew what it was, I couldn't even deny it in my head. Yet, I found myself staring intensely at it. I watched as my fingers creeped closer and closer to my face, until it was right under my nose. I breathed in. Salty, sweet, sharp... I couldn't stop myself from sniffing at my slimy fingers, I couldn't stop myself from letting my fingers slide down toward my lips, I couldn't stop them from slipping past my lips. I heard the squeaking of his sneakers as he approached with breakfast, quickly licking the slime off my fingers before he walked into the room.
"Aiiight! Eat up, homie! Made with love, just for you." He winked at me, handing me the plate, butterflies flying about in my stomach. Just as he plopped down on the futon across from me, the gummies started to kick in. As promised, the headache immediately subsided, but I found myself yet again in a state of light delirium. We sat and ate, laughing like jackasses and joking about our sexual conquests. I couldn't help but laugh as he'd talk about his Latin Leche, and how good it must feel to have it fill a pussy. Little did he know, I'd had a taste of it myself. In my delirium, it made sense to finally ask him about the little friend sitting on the nightstand.
"So... I noticed your new pal over there. What's up with that?" I pointed to the fleshlight on the nightstand, and Alejo immediately grinned from ear to ear.
"Oh, fuck bro. Here, give it to me." I leaned over, picking up the plastic container, surprised at just how heavy it was. I stood up, walking over to him he reached his hand out to take it from me, but I felt frozen as I stared at him. The damp patch seemed to grow bigger and bigger by the day... as did the scent which wafted from his beautiful body. He smiled, chuckling to himself as I stood there, taking in his studliness. Instead of the fleshlight in my hands, his fingers wrapped around the waistband of my sweats, pulling gently. "Heh, like what you see, bro?"
I could barely move, entirely locked in place as his fingers slipped past my waistband and onto my underwear. His grin turned mischievous, a lusty smirk instead creeping across his face as his hand moved further south, past my pubes until the tip of his finger had touched the base of my growing shaft. His eyes never broke with mine as his hand wrapped around my cock.
"Yeahh, homie. You like what you see. I thought so." He slipped his hand out of my pants, grabbing ahold of the fleshlight as if nothing had just happened. I stood there in shock. What did it mean? Did it happen? Was it an edible hallucination? How would I know, it's my first edible? He looked at the sticky fleshlight and laughed. "Nice, right? Bro, it feels just like good ass. Better than ass, man. Milks ya dry." He slipped his fingers into the tight hole, fingering it until he'd gotten a considerable glob of his spunk on his fingers. I was rock hard. Standing there like an idiot, just watching as he played with the slime on his fingertips before wiping it on his crotch. "So... Roomie. Wanna try it out?"
My face flushed. Did I? The hole glistened with his cum, from the sheer weight of it, several loads were in there- and not small ones. The thought of his sloppy seconds sounded strangely hot, and as he patted the seat next to him on the futon, I found myself yet again doing as I was told. I sat down, having no resistance as he pulled my sweat pants down to my ankles. His devilish smirk never subsiding, his eyes not breaking from mine, he slowly tugged on my underwear until my cock had slapped against my belly and into the open.
"Nice cock, bro." His voice was low and sultry as he took my manhood into his hand, slowly stroking me. I could only whimper and moan as he pumped me, closing my eyes in bliss. He worked it like an expert. His fingers circled around my head as he slid his hand up and down my pulsating shaft. As I continued moaning in bliss, I heard the faintest sound of a zipper, then a wet slap. He took my hand into his, guiding it over to him until I opened my eyes to see it slowly wrap around his own cock. It was magnificent. Long, slender, his foreskin covering his dripping tip. The pre flowed like a waterfall, pooling atop his pants. He wrapped my hand around the slimy dick as he moved it up and down. A few seconds is all it took before I was pumping that gorgeous cock, staring at the massive swollen balls slowly undulating below. We stroked eachother for a while, staring into eachother's eyes, huffing as we did. "Here, homie. I got you." His hand slipped off my cock, and I felt the silicone hole press against my head. His loads seeped out of the fleshlight, coating my cock with his cum before he slowly pressed it down.
Ecstasy. I screamed out in pleasure as the fleshlight swallowed my cock, squelching wetly as it did. Up and down, my cock begged for it. His cum slithering around my hard dick as he pumped it. We took turns- just as I was about to blow, he slipped it off with a loud 'shlorp,' slipping it over his own dirty cock and pumping. The pungent scent of sex filled the room for the next two hours of us edging eachother. Our cocks were glazed in our juices, mingling with eachother on our leaking shafts. Soon, we had each blasted our seed into the plastic tube, our foreheads pressed together, fists on eachother's cocks... We collapsed back against the futon, laughing and pumping eachother's knuckles. I felt free... I felt relaxed... I felt sexy... This new Alejo had come back a different person, and I was here for it. He handed me a dirty sock to wipe myself with, a task he'd just completed.
"My boy! This is the kind of roomie time I'm talkin' about, homie!" Alejo slapped me on the back, as I chuckled a soft laugh. We spent the rest of the day just as we did the night before. Shootin' the shit, laughing til we couldn't breathe, laughing about our swollen balls, playin' video games until the sun came up the next day. "Shit, man. Sun's up. You got work today?" I did, but my brain had taken a different route altogether. What harm would another day off be? I hadn't used my sick days, and I'm feeling sick... It's not a lie...
"Eh. I took the week." Not true. It wasn't true. I hadn't even asked, let alone gotten anything approved... But the shit eating grin on Alejo's face was enough of a reason in my mind.
"Ah, shit, man! Boy do I got plans for you." The days went by like a blur. I don't remember it all, just bits and pieces here and there. That second day though, I remember well. I'd made my announcement, my lie, I was to be off for the next six days. Alejo grinned, saying he would pack another bowl for us. His seemingly unending stash had truly surprised me, never without a nugget to be ground. I'd decided to try and wash the stink that had accumulated from 22 hours of roomie time. I remember walking to the bathroom, feelin' odder than usual. I couldn't tell you why, or what exactly felt off... but I can say, my balls felt like bowling balls. I flipped the lights on, looked into the mirror... and I just stood there for a moment. Struck with awe.
---
STAY TUNED FOR PART 2!
Will be posted on Blogspot as a single story, conclusion to come after my birthday!
“Oh My God! You too??? Jesus what happen in this house?” said Edward, shocked to see his fraternity friends also turned into a hunk. He run to the outside of the bathroom and the whole alley filled with hot college boys taking selfie and lusting over their own muscle, some of them kissing and worshipping each other. Edward start to feel nauseous, his body drenched in sweat. He groaned as his brain filled with new memories and then several bros start to notice “Huhuh, look at him. Maybe he need some help to make the process quicker,” said Charlie the geography prodigy, now Carlos a talented football winger, pulling off Edward’s pants and start sucking his throbbing dick Outside of the house, Greg Willis and Frankie Duchamp high-fiving with each other as they perfectly finish their Coach order “With this, we’ll have enough member for all sports club in this college, and I can get some extra boys that I need to make a team” said Frankie, the captain of the football team.
All I asked was what you were planning on doing tonight?
You say you're too busy for that kind of thing? You have classes? Looks to me like you both are too relaxed to be the kind of people who have anywhere important to be.
But you say you're too average for a guy like me? I disagree. You both seem to have some muscle on you, don't sell yourselves short.
But you're too insecure? That's just a state of mind, but I see two guys who live for attention. Yeah, see you're getting it—you gotta show off those muscles.
But you're just not into guys? I don't believe that for a second. Frankly, you're too dumb to care about that. I'm here, and I want you. Seems like your the kind of guy who's seeking a good time from whoever is available.
That's good. It turns out you are the kind of guy I'm looking for.
I wonder how long it took me to notice that there was something wrong with Nathan. We had been best friends for years, ever since the 5th grade, and we always hung out together both in and out of school. I was hoping things could’ve stayed like that this summer, but it seemed like fate had other plans. Between family vacations and college prep, it seemed like he didn’t have time for me anymore. And to make it worse, whenever he wasn’t doing that, he was hanging out with some other guys who I had never met, and he never even bothered to ask me if I wanted to come with. I know people grow and change, but I didn’t want to see it happen to my own best friend. On the bright side, we’re going to the same college, so I hope I can see him around.
And I did see him. It was the third week of courses, once I was starting to get acquainted with campus life. For once, I was actually being more social, trying to fill the gap that Nathan left. I used this opportunity to start talking to people in my classes and I found that we had some similar interests. I wish I could say the same for my roommate, but he mostly keeps to himself and we don’t have much in common.
Okay, back to Nathan. I was walking back to the dorms after my last class, texting one of my classmates about the homework. I was interrupted when I walked headfirst into another student. I should’ve been paying more attention to my surroundings. I looked up at the giant in front of me, probably 6’3”, before apologizing.
“James, is that you?” the giant asked. The voice sounded very familiar, yet at the same time, different. I took a closer look at him. “Long time no see, huh?” I was surprised when I realized who it was.
“Nate? Woah, what happened to you?” I couldn’t believe that this person in front of me was my best friend. This was not the same Nathan from three months ago during graduation. He was always a bit taller than me, but he had to have grown at least 3 inches. He used to wear glasses, but it seemed like he switched over to contacts.
In the warm August heat, he was wearing a tank top which revealed his newfound biceps for the whole world to see. The tank top clung closely to his chest and I could see his newly-formed six-pack through the fabric. He was wearing basketball shorts that were short enough that I could catch a glimpse of his thighs, which were just as big as his arms. I never knew Nathan went to the gym, and if he did, he never told me. But still, I couldn’t comprehend how he became so huge in just three months, which made me more curious about what he had been up to. A backwards hat fit tightly atop his head with Greek letters on them. Sigma Lambda Chi… Had Nathan really joined a frat? To be completely honest, he looked like he was cosplaying as a frat bro, a far cry from how I knew him.
“Like what you see, bro?” James chuckled, as he flexed one of his arms. He definitely never came across as a cocky showoff, but I was too distracted by his flexed bicep to notice. I caught myself staring for a second too long, before feeling my face turn red hot. Me and Nathan knew everything about each other, but there was one thing I never told him. I was gay. To tell you the truth, I had a crush on him, but I knew I could never tell him to preserve our friendship. But now he looks even better, and he hasn’t made time for me at all. Now he really felt out of my league.
“I’ve been working out a lot lately. I’m glad you noticed.” He still had his signature smile, but it looked out of place on his new body. His face especially looked a lot more angular and masculine. A visible tan glazed over his body like a fresh coat of paint.
“Daaamn! You look great, dude!” To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to feel talking to him again. On one hand, I was happy to see him again, and, admittedly, a little surprised to see him like this. On the other hand, he ditched me this whole summer to hang out with some other guys. It felt so bittersweet.
“If there weren’t other people around, I’d let you…I mean uh, how have you been bro? I know I’ve been busy a lot lately. Sorry about that, dude.” We told each other what we did over the summer, and wow, was his summer more interesting.
As we caught up, I learned more about what he has been up to. Apparently, he joined a frat and he was hanging out with the guys there more and more. He promised that he’d bring me to a party sometime, but I was hesitant because I’m not much of a party animal. That lifestyle just isn’t for me. He also said he was thinking about joining our school’s football team at the request of his roommate, which I found even more surprising because Nathan never played sports in high school. I did track, but I was never that big into sports myself. Our conversation was interrupted as another guy entered the scene.
“Yo, Nate! Finally found you. You seriously need to get better at texting me back, dude. And who’s this dude?” The guy was wearing the same hat as Nate, so I figured he was one of his frat bros.
“My bad, bro. Brett, this is James. We go way back. James, this is Brett. He’s my roommate. We met over the summer and we’ve been hanging out since.”
“Alright, cool, bro,” Brett responded, clearly impatient and indifferent towards me. He dismissed me entirely, almost like I wasn’t worth his time. “You still going to the gym with me or what?”
“Sorry, bro. I just ran into him and we were catching up.” Nathan responded. “Hey, I gotta get going. We should get food sometime. Peace!” I watched as Nathan and Brett walked away in the opposite direction of me towards the gym. As they moved further away, I could hear Brett chastise him about something. This is the guy that Nathan ditched me for? I hope I’m wrong, but he seemed like kind of a dick. I know I was jealous of him for taking up my best friend’s time, but I didn’t trust him. As for me, I returned to the dorm to work on the assignment with my roommate.
The next time I saw Nate was that weekend, when I held up his promise to get something to eat. I tried to ask him about it earlier in the week, but he was doing stuff at the frat all that time. I was at least grateful that he took time out of his schedule for me for once. He mentioned that he normally doesn’t hang out with anyone who wasn’t in the frat, almost like they were some exclusive bro clique that I was excluded from. For once, it was good to hang out with him one-on-one without any of his frat bros getting in the way. I expected things to be like how they were before, but I couldn’t be any more wrong.
It’s not that I disliked the new Nathan, but I felt like we didn’t have much common ground anymore. It was like he was a completely different person. He didn’t seem to care that much about our old interests anymore. He didn’t have time for video games and he just wasn’t that interested in watching movies or photography anymore. All he seemed to care about was working out all day and partying all night. All he would talk about was some stupid stuff he or one of his bros did.
Plus, he told me he switched his major from mechanical engineering to be a personal trainer. It seemed like he just became a total gym bro overnight. The studious and witty Nathan that I loved kinda just seemed to be a stereotypical meathead now. The worst part was that I knew that this was the same Nathan deep down, and he still treated me the same even if he was a lot busier. I felt like maybe I was the problem since he was clearly still having a good time, and I wasn’t. Why do I feel this way?
I felt my mood change as we talked. Eventually, I figured it was time to cut off the conversation and return to the dorm, but Nathan definitely knew something was off. He texted me later that evening, asking me if everything was alright. To be honest, I wanted to make some lame excuse that I was feeling sick, but we’ve always been honest with each other, so I told him how I really felt.
Me: Nate, to be honest, I think I need some time away from you. I don’t hate you or anything, but it feels like we’ve been growing apart and I feel like you’ve become a different person. I feel like when I look at you, I don’t see the Nathan I’ve known for years, but someone else entirely.
I wanted to say more about how I felt about his new changes, but I didn’t want to escalate things.
Nathan: James, I’m sorry you feel that way about me. I felt like we had a good time today. I’ve grown and changed a lot recently, and I’ve realized a lot about myself, but I’m happy with who I am right now. I know I’m spending a lot of time at the gym or with Brett or my other bros, but I still care about you deeply, bro. You might be right though. Hanging out with you isn’t the same as hanging with the guys at the frat.
Me: Do you honestly see yourself as just a frat boy? You’re more than that. You’re my best friend. But now, you have more in common with the jocks from high school than the Nathan I knew. It’s hard talking to you now since all you care about anymore are your gains and partying. You’re nothing more than a meathead now.
Nathan: So that’s how you see me, bro? The reason I had been avoiding you is because I knew that you wouldn’t like seeing me like this. I guess I was right, bro. But trust me, I’m happy like this. I’m a lot more social than when I was when I was with you, and I’ve even become more in shape too. I care about our friendship more than you can possibly imagine, but I guess this is for the best. To be honest, I think it would be a lot of fun if you were here in the frat with me, but I know you wouldn’t say yes.
I didn’t bother responding. I could never picture myself joining a frat. I would never get along with his frat bro friends, especially Brett, who seemed to be the one he was closest with. I still couldn’t believe Nate would choose him over me. I wasn’t sure whether to feel angry, or sad, or disappointed towards him. I felt like he was wasting his life partying when he should be studying. To think this was the person I cared about more than anyone. It was at this point that I figured I probably wouldn’t have my old friend back. Or so I thought.
A couple weeks passed and I tried to move on from Nathan. I always saw him on his story drinking and partying late into the night at the frat house or posting selfies at the gym. He looked like he was fully embracing his new frat boy persona now. If he didn’t still care about me, it would’ve felt like he was doing it out of spite. As for me, I started to hang out with my classmates more and more, and there was even a guy I went on a date with. It was a nice date and I did like the guy, but for some reason, the thought of Nathan lingered in my mind. Even though I hated what he had become, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about him. I couldn’t deny how much he turned me on. Why was I still thirsting after a stupid fucking frat bro? One afternoon, after I returned to my dorm, I received a text on my phone. To my surprise, it was Nathan.
“Hey bro, can we talk? There are some things I need to get off my chest.”
I didn’t know what he could possibly want with me now. I suppose I can hear him out just so I can see what he wants. I went over to his room further down the hall, and thankfully Brett was not here to ruin the moment. Nate said that he was doing some preparations for some stuff at the frat. When I asked, he didn’t specify what though. It always feels like stuff at the frat is kept under wraps.
“Did you want a drink?”
“Sure.”
“Even if it’s beer?” A mischievous grin appeared on his face. Was he seriously offering me beer? I knew that alcohol wasn’t allowed in the dorms, but clearly that rule didn’t faze him. Obviously he knew how to get his hands on some drinks. To be honest, I had never drank alcohol before, but I figured this would be the easiest way to try it before I turned 21. Plus, it might alleviate the tension between us. Either that or make us fight like two drunkards in a bar.
“Sure, why not.” Nate went to get two bottles for us. I took my first sip and was disgusted by the bitter taste of the beer.
“You don’t like it? Neither did I at first,” Nate chuckled. “After a while, you get used to it.” Nate turned the TV on as we chatted. I apologized about what I said about him last time we talked, but he said it was no big deal. I felt like I was a little too harsh on him. It could just be the alcohol, but I found that I got along with him better than I did weeks ago. As we chatted, my body started to tingle. Was this how it felt like to be drunk?
“Hey, Nate. I feel kinda weird, but not like drunk weird. Is this normal, bro?” I asked. By this point, we both had two drinks each. I didn’t mind the taste of the beer the second time.
“Nah, you’re fine bro.” Nate responded, with a smile on his face. Compared to me, he appeared to be much more sober. “It happens sometimes, especially when you’re not used to it.” I figured he knew best, since he was the one drinking and partying all the time, so I ignored this foreign feeling rushing through my body. I felt as if my body was overheating as I felt my arms and legs throb and pulsate. Sweat was leaking off my armpits and down my forehead. There was part of me that knew that something was off, but it was drowned out by the alcohol. As I took another sip, I felt my arm spasm as I accidentally spilled some beer onto my shirt. Shit, I wasn’t expecting to do laundry later.
“Damn bro, you made a mess. You alright? Do you wanna change your shirt?” Nate asked. I nodded and he quickly went to his room to pick out something for me. It wasn’t the first time I had to wear his clothes. “Sorry about that, bro. First thing I found. Hope it fits you.” It was a stringer tank with Sigma Lambda Chi on it. I bet Nate looked like a walking symbol of the frat wearing that stuff. For some reason, the idea was kinda amusing to me because it seemed so over the top. I wondered how I would look dressed up like that. I’d probably look really stupid.
I stripped out of my wet shirt and changed right in front of him. I caught a whiff from my armpits, and I thought I smelled like a sweaty gym bro. The tank appeared to be a size up and it hung loosely on me. Still, it was better than nothing I guess. Despite that, it had a nice familiar smell to it though. It smelled like Nathan, but at the same time, it had a different flavor to it. He smelled a lot more manly than I remembered. I bet he wore it to the gym often.
Eventually, after my third drink, I went to go to the bathroom. My body was starting to ache, like I had just done a workout with Nate earlier. Workout…Was that what happened earlier? …I think so? Did we work out after class and come back to his place for some brewskis? For some reason, the events of today felt incredibly fuzzy to me. I was starting to forget the reason I was here in the first place.
I clumsily stumbled over my feet which looked bigger than usual. After I took a piss, I looked at myself in the mirror. Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I didn’t always look that big, right? From a first glance, it looked like I was looking through one of those distorted mirrors they have at amusement parks. I had to have been really drunk at this point. I chuckled at the figure in front of me. At this point, I almost looked like one of those frat bros! I decided to flex my arms like they would, oblivious to the fact that they already grew just a little bit, before joining Nate on the couch.
“There you are, big man!” he said as he squeezed my muscles. I have been working out recently, I think. “I thought you passed out in there. Most guys don’t last that long for their first time, but you look good enough for another brewski.”
After downing our fourth drinks, the conversation took a different turn.
“Yo, James. I knew you said you weren’t too big on the idea of joining our frat last time we chatted, but how do you feel now, having thought things over?”
I remembered our last conversation. Honestly, I was so drunk that I didn’t remember why I turned him down in the first place. The idea that seemed unappealing to me at the time seemed like it was perfect for me at this moment. I didn’t even understand why I would be so reluctant to join. I needed to join more than anything else. I would do anything to join, even if I had to completely humiliate myself in front of my fellow bros. At this point, nothing was too extreme for me. The fact that Nate was in it was enough reason to join, so we could hang out more like we used to. Plus, I could get to hang out with all my other bros and drink and party whenever we want.
“I’ve given it some thought, and yeah bro, I’ll join,” my voice slurred as my mouth moved before my mind could. I had committed at this point. No backing out now. I’m a member of Sigma Lambda Chi for life.
“Sweet, bro!” He grabbed me on my far shoulder and pulled me close. “I’m glad you said yes, because I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes, bro.”
I closed my eyes as Nate went into his room to grab something. Did I actually agree to join his frat? I’m not sure what’s going on with me today. When he came back, I felt Nate press on my head as his “surprise” fit tight around it. “You can open them now.”
I realized I was wearing the same hat that Nate always wore, with his frat’s letters printed on it. “We’re gonna be matching now, bro. Isn’t that awesome? I know you’re gonna want to wear it whenever and wherever. But you’re wearing it wrong. Let me fix it for you, dude.” He turned the brim around so it faced my back. As my hat turned backwards, I felt my mind fog up and any tension or brain activity screech to a halt. I was unable to realize what I signed myself up for, unable to protest. My conscious mind was drowned out by the alcohol and this hat was like a lock, sealing it away. Not that I was against this, as a wave of pleasure surged through me. I felt my mind slow down, almost as if it was stuck in molasses, as my thoughts began to simplify. It felt good though...
I would follow the example of my fellow brothers. Look like them, think like them, act like them. Almost like a hivemind of bros, you know, bro? By this point, the changes were irreversible. Nate had turned me into another frat bro just like him.
“Everything worked out as planned, bro. You see, when you, my own best bro, told me you didn’t want to join the frat with me, I was actually really hurt. So I talked to Brett, and had him “work his magic”, to help me do to you what he did to me. I don’t like to lie to you, but it’s a frat secret, so now you get to know bro. Like I said, it’s a secret, so don’t talk about this with anyone.”
“Don’t worry about it bro. It’s all…uh…
Fuck dude, what’s the word…water under the bridge? Huhuhu…” I really had to think about that one. I found it harder to articulate and use complex words, as I mainly just spoke in bro-speak. To be honest, I wasn’t really that upset that he lied to me. He did what he had to as a member of the frat. I never stayed mad at one of my bros for very long.
“Now we get to be brothers for life,” he said as he gave me a big bro hug. We clung to each other like two giant masses of muscle. My huge biceps wrapped around his firm back as his did for me. Afterwards, he handed me my fifth drink and we cheered to me joining Sigma Lambda Chi. He laid down all of the rules, what everything was like, telling me about the coolest guys there, and so on. He said he’d bring me to the frat house and introduce me to everyone tomorrow. “They’re gonna love you for sure, bro. I’ve got an eye for cool bros like you.”
As it got later, and we moved on to drink numero 6, I felt myself get very tired as we both passed out on his couch. I woke up a couple hours later, and I looked out the window to see a pitch black sky. Shit, it was almost 10 PM and I had to turn in my assignment at midnight. But for some reason, I didn’t really care right now. I didn’t mind turning in assignments late as long as the teacher still gave me credit. I felt no different from the way I was a couple hours ago, just another Sigma Lambda Chi frat bro, but I liked it. It felt right to me. It was where I, no, where we belonged.
I looked down. Nate’s tank hung tightly to me now. It took me a second to notice my arms…Holy shit, they were fucking huge! I looked awesome, bro. As I admired my new body, Nate was still asleep, his hand on my meaty thigh. Just above that, my dick throbbed through my pants. Fuck, I was so horny for some reason. Eventually, Nate slowly regained consciousness.
“I usually don’t drink this much on a school day,” Nate said, still a little hungover as he rubbed his eyes. We sat in silence for about a minute before he spoke again. “By the way, there was another reason I invited you over. There’s something that’s been on my chest for a while.”
“Go ahead, bro. I can take it,” I responded confidently. My voice sounded deeper and more bro-like than usual, just like him.
“Here goes, dude. I think I like you, bro. Not like you, but I think I like like you. I know it’s hella gay, but I couldn’t stand to see you be so cold to me. That’s why I had to make you a bro like me. I’m sure you’ll love it here, bro. And hey, if you’re not gay, that’s cool. We can forget this shit ever happened and go back to being bros for life.”
At first, I honestly thought I was still dreaming. First, he turned me into a frat boy, and now, he was confessing his feelings to me? How crazier could this night get? For all my life, I thought he was straight. I remembered being glad when he broke up with his girlfriend two years back. I couldn’t stand her. When he joined Sigma Lambda Chi, I assumed he was 100% straight and that he was banging some sorority chicks every night. To think he felt the same way I did all this time.
“Bro, I like you too. When you stopped talking to me, I started to get kinda jealous. I didn’t want to accept you for who you are. But being your bro just isn’t enough for me, bro.” I leaned in for a kiss, my inhibitions still nowhere to be found. It was my first kiss and it was with the person I cherished most. I felt like I was in heaven. I didn’t really care that I was a dumb frat bro like him anymore. I never did. That shit was stupid anyways. But now, Nate fixed our friendship and made us closer than ever. I loved the taste of his lips against mine and I didn’t want it to end but eventually Nate parted our lips.
“Wanna fuck me, bro?” he whispered in my ear. A flirtatious smirk was plastered on his face, and one of his hands was still wrapped around my neck. This was real. I nodded as he took me to his bed. I had never done this before, but I’ve seen plenty of porn, so I knew what to expect. He laid down on his back and stripped naked. I never felt this aroused before. My dick even looked bigger than it used to be. I was so pent up that I felt like I was holding this load in for months. I guess frat bros really are as horny as they say. I lubed up my larger cock before sticking it into Nate’s hole.
My serpent stretched out his tight hole as he had clearly not seen much action down there until now. I pounded his ass as my dick went in and out of him. In and out, in and out, in and out…It was a steady rhythm, my dick was like a metronome. My hands clung to him as I held him in place, pinning him to his bed. My hands ran all over his shoulders, broad and muscular, built like a football player’s. We both felt absolutely euphoric as our deep, masculine moans filled the room. The moans were loud enough that the students on the other side of the wall could easily hear them, but I didn’t care about any noise complaints as I fucked him harder and harder. After half an hour of fucking, he both hit our orgasm at almost exactly the same time. I ejaculated inside his tight hole, my hot, sticky seed flooding his insides as Nate came all over his abs. At this point I was exhausted and still hungover and I basically fell on top of him on his bed. We were both panting and out of breath.
“I knew you were a good fucker, bro.” he whispered seductively as he kissed me. We stayed in that position for several minutes until we heard the door open.
“Yo, Nate! Did you do it? How did it go?” a voice asked, shouting loudly from the other room. I recognized the voice as Brett’s. He peeked into the room, witnessing the two of us cuddling together naked. To be honest, I thought he would’ve been grossed out. Guess I had the wrong idea about him.
“Better than expected, dude,” Nate responded. He didn’t seem to care that we were both naked in front of his roommate and that we just got back from our trip to Pound Town.
“He looks way better this way, don’t you agree, bro? But man, dude, now I know why you wanted him to be a pledge so bad. I was wondering why you wouldn’t fuck any of those sexy sorority babes. More for me, I guess.”
A week passed and by then, I joined the frat officially. Me and Nate started dating shortly after, but none of our bros minded. It didn’t matter if we were gay, we were still brothers. I also learned how Nate met Brett. He was taking a tour of the campus over the summer and he ran into Brett who was recruiting people for the frat. Brett took a liking to him and kinda took him under his wing like some sort of mentor and they started hanging out since he only lived a town away from us. Brett was our age, but he had more seniority and authority because his older brother Brad was very popular within the frat. Turns out Brett and some of the upperclassmen knew how to turn guys into the ideal bros for their frat. They wanted to bolster their numbers to make Sigma Lambda Chi the biggest and coolest frat in the state, with the biggest bros and the biggest parties, and naturally both me and Nate were chosen. Not that either of us minded. Nate joined the football team with Brett and some other guys in the frat, and the rest of us would go watch them play every game. Our section of the stadium was always the loudest and rowdiest, especially when one of our bros scored a touchdown.
Apparently I grew a ton during the night that I was with Nate, but I was too drunk to notice just how massive I had become. It must’ve been something in the beer, huhu. I started working out with Nate and Brett, and sometimes some other bros too. I even ended up changing my major. I chose business because my bros said that it was the easiest shit ever and I wasn’t feeling psychology anymore. I didn’t really feel like thinking much anymore and I found that focusing on education so much was a chore and that I was wasting my college experience. I’d rather be partying and drinking or hanging out with the bros at the frat house, watching sports, playing video games, or playing ball outside. I got to see why Nate grew to enjoy this lifestyle so much, and I was mad at myself for not seeing his point of view sooner.
Three years later, me and Nate are still dating and we’re set to graduate this semester. We’re thinking about getting a place in the city not too far from campus, probably with Brett and another friend of ours to save money on rent. We’ll probably still throw parties every weekend like we used to. College was such a memorable experience and I wish I could live it again. I only have Nate, Brett, and all my other bros to thank for making college awesome for me.
Hey Support!
My roommate just used your product, and turned himself in to a sweaty, smelly mess of a bodybuilder that’s always bloated. His stench is stinking up the whole place! Is there anyway you can help me? I’m at my last straw!
Don't worry, I am the support, I am here to help. Lie down on your bed and breathe deeply! Fuck, your roommate's fart was a good one! Keep breathing in and out. Concentrate on your belly. And now let everything go. And fart out your anger at your roommate from your belly.
The next morning it will be much better. At least you won't notice the stench in your room anymore. Your roommate is already at the gym. It's not your thing. But you could go for a run. There should be socks and running shorts somewhere in the dirty laundry pile. They belonged to your roommate before his muscles exploded. Now they're perfect for your lean body. You don't need a shirt for running. And no showers after the run either. It's a warm day today anyway, so you'll be sweaty again at some point.
Normally you don't sit next to your roommate in the lectures anymore. Nobody wanted to sit next to him anymore. But today you see him and you just have to sit next to him. You greet each other with fist and chest bump. He tells you that you look good. You tell him he stinks like a football team after practice. He lets you smell his wet armpit. You get a boner. In your running shorts. Anyway, everyone should see your magnificent cock.
The next morning you let your roommate talk you into going to the gym. On the way there you make competitive farts in the car. Fuck, against the protein farts of your roommate you have no chance. So you desperately need a protein shake. Yes, your farts are getting better. But like muscles, there's still a long way to go before you catch up to your roommate.
After the training you check the result in the mirror. The mullet is coming along nicely. Like your beard and the hair in your armpits. Your roommate farts. You send an echo. Real gym bros understand each other without words.
Adam stepped into the small, dimly lit Halloween shop without a clue that tonight would be anything but normal. He hesitated for a long time before deciding to go the office party. At 42, he really was finding those kinds of events more and more boring. He was late to get a costume, and with the Halloween party in just a few hours, he didn’t want to show up empty-handed, even more because Nathalie, his coworker he had kind of a crush on since she was hired a couple of months ago, would be here. Adam looked all day long but couldn’t find anything he liked or at his size. The last place on the block he didn’t check was this weird little hole-in-the-wall shop, a place he wouldn’t normally visit. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
As he walked in, the smell of old leather and musty costumes filled the air. Racks of outlandish outfits surrounded him, superheroes, clowns, knights, cowboys, Indians but none of them felt right. He wasn’t trying to win a costume contest. He just wanted something easy, fun, and simple that might bring him some points with Nathalie.
"Looking for something special?" came a smooth voice from behind the counter.
Adam turned to see an older man standing there, wearing a sharp suit that didn’t fit the vibe of the place at all. His eyes gleamed with a strange intensity, his thin lips curling into a grin that sent a shiver down Adam’s spine.
“Uh, yeah,” Adam replied, “Just something for a party. Nothing too flashy.”
The man, whose nametag read Mister Melorius, gave a knowing nod. "I think I’ve got just the thing for you." Without waiting for Adam to respond, he disappeared behind a curtain and came back holding a dark, pressed military uniform. Adam was about to say no thanks when a shimmer of the dogtag caught his attention on the uniform. He thought for a second and as a reflex, his hands reached for the costume. Maybe it could work he started to think.
"Try it on," Melorius said, handing it over with a strangely eager smile.
Adam nodded and took the uniform, heading into the changing room. It felt… strange in his hands. Light but sturdy, with a coolness to the fabric. As soon as he touched it, something seemed to tug at him, a pull he couldn’t explain.
He quickly undressed, neatly folding his 3 pieces royal blue costume and red tie, then slid the uniform over his body. The trousers clung to his legs perfectly, and when he zipped up the jacket, it felt as if it had been tailored specifically for him. But just as he finished adjusting the collar, a sudden warmth spread through him, like someone had flipped a switch inside his body.
“Whoa…” he whispered, looking in the mirror to see his reflection only to be met with weird sensations invading his lower half.
His breath hitched as a deep, pulsing warmth gathered in his chest and spread outwards. He watched, wide-eyed, as his reflection began to change. His shoulders, narrow and unremarkable, slowly began to broaden. Muscles thickened beneath his skin, his traps rising higher, giving him a solid, athletic look, he never had. His biceps bulged, veins snaking under the skin as they expanded, stretching the sleeves of the uniform.
Adam’s arms swelled as they filled with muscle, his forearms thickening to match. His fingers, once slim and soft, grew thicker and calloused as if he’d been doing pull-ups and handling weapons for years. He tried to flex his hand, but the strength in his grip now felt foreign, almost as if he didn’t recognize his own power.
His chest pushed out next. He gasped, watching as his pecs thickened, rising up under the fabric of the uniform. Each breath he took made his pecs swell even more, the fabric pressing tight against them. He ran a hand over his chest, feeling the firm slabs of muscle there, and while his body was filling out with youthful strength, no chest hair sprouted. Instead, there was just a faint happy trail starting beneath his belly button, leading down into his waistband.
But it wasn’t just his chest. His abs rippled underneath the uniform, once undefined but now clear and sharp as if carved from stone. Each muscle tightened, becoming more pronounced, a solid six-pack replacing the soft stomach he’d grown used to over the years.
"What's happening?!" Adam muttered; his voice slightly higher than before. He tried to tug at the collar, but his hands were trembling. He watched his legs next, his thighs, once lean, ballooned with muscle, stretching the fabric of the pants until they hugged every powerful curve. His calves followed, thickening with each passing second, as if he had spent years running drills and hiking with heavy gear.
Adam felt a strange tightness in his groin. His cock, which had been a respectable 5.5 inches before, began to throb. He looked down, his heart pounding as he watched it grow harder in his pants. But instead of stopping, it kept swelling. The pressure inside his trousers grew unbearable as his cock thickened, stretching longer, now standing at a solid 9 inches when fully erect. His balls, too, grew heavier, tugging down into the tight space of his trousers. The weight of them sent an odd thrill up his spine.
He felt every change in vivid detail, the growing weight between his legs pulling more of his attention as his balls swelled, stretching the skin tight. It wasn’t just physical, his mind seemed to grow fuzzy as well. He clutched his head, trying to hold onto who he was, but each throb in his nuts seemed to drain away another part of his mind, like his very memories were slipping away.
“C’mon, c’mon,” he groaned, trying to focus on his reflection only to realize his face starting to change, to regress. In front of him, his hair started to grow back and took a light brown color, his skin tighten on his bones and muscles and his eyes cleaned of any sight disease..
The muscles in his back stretched next, widening, growing strong as if molded for carrying heavy packs. His spine straightened, the tightness there easing as his posture improved, making him stand taller. His entire frame had become lean but muscular, the body of someone fresh out of boot camp. His feet felt cramped as they grew too, filling out and pushing against the leather of his enw combat boots.
The reflection staring back at him was unrecognizable now, his youthful face smooth and sharp, his jawline chiseled. He was 19 again, with the fresh vigor of someone who had just graduated from military school. His eyes gleamed with a new confidence, the innocence of his late twenties long drained away.
Adam, frozen in surprise and incomprehension in his new 19 years old self wanted to scream for help. He grabbed the curtain of the dressing room only to realize something just woke up a bit lower.
His cock twitched again, harder this time, filling his pants with precum as it continued to throb. The uniform was pressing tight against his groin, the sensation making him grit his teeth. Adam felt like he was falling mentally, his old life, his name, his personality, everything that made him himself was being funneled into his swelling nuts, filling them with the essence of his past self. He tried to fight it, gripping his thickened biceps and flexing his jaw, but the pleasure was too much.
“Oh… fuck,” Adam gasped, his cock leaking steadily now, every pulse sending another piece of who he used to be into the pit of his balls. His mind was going blank. Everything about his past, the awkward college days, his old job, his straight lifestyle, was swirling away, replaced by a fresh, cocky attitude that fit his new body like a glove.
Adam felt the last grip he had on his old life give up in his brain as he mentally heard a Gulp sound and without touching himself, he came. His cock twitched violently in his trousers, releasing rope after rope of thick cum into the fabric, soaking through. His knees almost buckled, his muscles tensing as his orgasm washed over him. Every shot of cum seemed to drain away the last remnants of Adam. He groaned, feeling his pants tighten around his cock as it spurted again, marking the end of his transformation.
His breathing slowed, the intense pleasure fading, leaving him standing there in the dressing room. Adam blinked, his expression now one of cocky satisfaction. His body was exactly what it should be, perfectly toned, fresh out of military school, ready to take on any challenge. He gave his bulging biceps a flex, smirking at his reflection.
Just as the last of his cum soaked through his uniform pants, there was a flash of light.
When his eyes adjusted, Adam found himself standing in a dimly lit room, surrounded by cheering soldiers. The Halloween Initiation party was in full swing, but this was no normal party. The barracks were filled with the scent of sweat and musk, and the energy in the room was electrifying. The blue-balled soldiers had been playing games of dares all night while drinking alcohol and thinning about their girls back home. They were taking turns on each other, their pent-up frustration boiling over into raw sexual energy as each other companies was the only thing available for them at the moment.
Adam's cock, still half-hard from his transformation, twitched at the sight. He wasn’t one to back down from a bet, no matter what it involved. His cocky grin widened as one of the guys, a bulky lance caporal sauntered over.
“New guy, huh? Hope you’re not shy,” the private smirked, pointing toward the center of the room where a game of dares was already heating up. Guys were taking turns on each other, sucking, fucking, the air thick with tension, laugh and alcohol.
“Shy? Never,” Adam said, the words rolling off his tongue like second nature. His old self would have been horrified, but that part of him was long gone. Now, all he felt was the thrill of the challenge, his cock already hardening again at the thought of taking one of those dares.
Within moments, Adam found himself stripped down to his uniform pants, standing in the circle of horny soldiers. His cock stood at attention, rock hard, dripping precum as the dares flew around the room. One soldier dared him to take one in the ass to prove he was one of them, and Adam’s grin only widened.
“Bring it on,” he said, his voice steady, confident.
Across the room, another soldier, Ryan, a tall, ripped guy with a mischievous smirk, caught Adam’s eye. Ryan had a reputation for never backing down from a challenge either, and tonight was no different.
“Alright, new kid,” Ryan called out, voice booming over the music. “You think you’ve got the guts to take on me? I bet you can’t last more than four minutes before I make you tap out. And if you think you can, then let’s make it interesting, I’ll fuck you, and if you make me cum first, you win. But if I fuck you senseless before the clock runs out, you’re mine for the rest of the night!”
The crowd hooted and hollered, clearly loving the idea. Adam, never one to back down, chuckled and shrugged, stepping forward. “You’re on,” he grinned, puffing out his chest as if the challenge didn’t faze him at all. Inside, his nerves tingled with a mix of excitement and tension. His old self would’ve balked at the idea, but the new Adam? He was born for this.
Ryan smirked and cracked his knuckles, stepping forward, already unbuttoning his pants while some of the guys set up a makeshift timer. Adam, shirtless, his abs and pecs glistening with sweat, kicked off his boots and started to peel off his uniform pants, his semi-hard cock springing free to a chorus of cheers and whistles from the guys around him. The thought of bending over for the first time sent a shiver down his spine, but instead of hesitation, all Adam felt was excitement. He was ready to win this bet and prove he was worth being one of them.
They positioned themselves in the center of the room. Adam braced himself on his hands and knees, his ass in the air, and his cock still throbbing as it brushed against the cold floor. The crowd gathered close, cheering and egging them on, chanting Adam’s name. Ryan loomed over him, his own cock hard and dripping, ready to go.
With no further delay, Ryan pushed his cock against Adam’s tight, virgin hole, and the moment Ryan started to press inside, Adam gritted his teeth. A sharp pain shot through him, his body tensing instinctively. The stretch was intense, way more than he’d expected, but he wasn’t going to back down. No way. Not with all these guys watching, cheering him on.
“Hah! You good down there?” Ryan teased, but Adam just barked a laugh through the pain.
“Hell yeah, I’m good. Just fuckin’ do it, man,” Adam shot back, shaking his head, trying to ease himself into the sensation. He wasn’t about to give Ryan the satisfaction of seeing him break.
The crowd roared as Ryan pushed deeper, and Adam’s breath hitched in his throat. He could feel every inch of Ryan’s cock stretching him wide, filling him up. It hurt like hell at first, his ass clenching tight, but Adam just grinned through it, biting down on his lip, determined to win.
He could hear the timer start ticking. He just had to hold out, just had to make Ryan cum first.
“Let’s see what you’ve got, hotshot,” Ryan growled and started to thrust, his hips slamming forward, his cock driving into Adam with rough, forceful strokes. Adam gasped, his body jolting with every powerful thrust, but instead of crumbling, he let out a breathless laugh.
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” Adam taunted, grinning as he glanced over his shoulder, catching the strain on Ryan’s face.
Ryan’s cock pounded into him, faster, harder, his grip tightening on Adam’s hips as he tried to get the upper hand. But no matter how rough it got, no matter how much it burned and stretched Adam’s hole, he refused to give in. The cheers from the guys around him only fueled his determination.
“C’mon, Ryan, don’t hold back now!” Adam shouted over his shoulder, half-laughing, half-moan escaping him as the pleasure started to edge out the pain. He could feel his own cock twitching beneath him, leaking pre-cum onto the floor as Ryan’s relentless fucking started to push him closer to the edge. But it wasn’t about him. He had to make Ryan lose it first.
And Ryan was struggling. Adam could feel it in the way his thrusts were getting sloppier, the way his breath was coming in ragged gasps. His cock was twitching inside him, his composure cracking with every second that ticked by. Adam’s muscles tightened, and he arched his back just a little, pushing his ass up to meet Ryan’s thrusts, making it even harder for him to hold back.
“You gonna cum for me, Ryan?” Adam teased, voice ragged, but still full of that cocky confidence. The guys around them cheered louder, and Adam fed off their energy, his grin widening. He was close to winning. He could feel it.
Ryan let out a guttural moan, his hands digging into his hips as he tried to hold out, but Adam wasn’t going to give him a chance. He clenched his ass tight around Ryan’s cock, squeezing him hard, and that was all it took.
With a loud groan, Ryan’s hips stuttered, and Adam felt the sudden warmth of Ryan’s cum spilling deep inside him. The crowd erupted into cheers, fists pumping into the air as Ryan lost the challenge. Adam let out a triumphant laugh, his chest heaving, body shaking with the intensity of the moment.
Ryan slumped forward, panting heavily as he pulled out, but Adam was already standing up, grinning ear to ear, his own cock still hard, bobbing between his legs as the crowd of soldiers slapped him on the back, shouting congratulations.
“You fuckin’ did it!” one of them laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “You made him blow in under four minutes!”
“Hell yeah, I did,” Adam grinned, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He could still feel the dull ache in his ass, but it didn’t matter. He had won, he was one of them, and the rush of victory coursed through him like fire.
The crowd of soldiers slapped him on the back, congratulating him, Ryan approached from behind. The tall, ripped soldier, still catching his breath from their intense initiation challenge, gave Adam a smirk that spoke volumes. Without warning, Ryan wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in close. Adam grinned, thinking it was just part of the celebration, the camaraderie of the guys after a wild challenge.
But as Ryan leaned in, his breath hot against his ear, his voice dropped to a low, rough whisper. “You may be one of us now, Adam,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver down his spine, “but you’re still gonna be my bitch from now on.”
Adam’s grin faltered for a moment, his heart skipping a beat as the meaning of Ryan’s words sank in. Before he could react, Ryan’s hand slid down his bare back, slipping lower until his fingers brushed against his still-sloppy hole. The touch was sudden, intimate, and before Adam could even think to protest, Ryan pushed one thick finger inside, pressing against his sensitive, overstimulated prostate.
The sensation hit him like a freight train. His body jolted forward, muscles tensing, and his cock, still hard and twitching, suddenly erupted. Adam’s eyes widened as he came, hands-free, his cock pulsing and shooting ropes of hot cum onto the floor beneath him. His legs trembled, barely able to keep him upright as the orgasm tore through him, pleasure crashing over him like a tidal wave.
Ryan chuckled softly into Adam’s ear, his finger still teasing his prostate, milking every last drop of cum from him. The crowd didn’t notice, too wrapped up in another challenge thrown to another new private first class, but Adam’s world narrowed down to the overwhelming sensation of Ryan’s control over his body, the undeniable pleasure, and the sharp sting of submission.
As Adam’s orgasm finally ebbed, leaving him breathless and trembling, Ryan pulled his finger out, giving his ass a possessive slap. “Good job, Private First Class Adam,” Ryan muttered, amusement lacing his voice. Then, without another word, Ryan stepped away, blending back into the group, leaving Adam standing there, dazed, his cock still dripping, his body trembling from the intensity of it all.
The other soldiers continued to cheer and party, unaware of the intimate moment that had just transpired, but he knew. He felt it deep in his bones, his new life, his new body, and now, his new place in the barracks.
He was Private First Class Adam, the cocky, easygoing guy who never backed down from a challenge. But now, as he watched Ryan disappear into the crowd, his heart still racing, he realized something else.
He may be one of them, but Ryan had claimed him all the same. And Adam wasn’t sure he minded at all.
...
Back in the store, Mister Melorius went on and grabbed the folded blue 3 pieces costume to put it up for sell, a brand new “40 yo engineer costume” was ready to be sold to someone else. ______________________________________________________________
Hey! Here is today's story. Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always let me know what you think of it and feelf ree to send inbox messages if you want to see what Mister Melorius has in store for you. See you soon!
My living arrangement at college is unbearable. I’m a dean’s list honors student, and my roommate is a dumbass stoner skater. Needless to say, we don’t get along at all, and the school isn’t allowing us to transfer. We found out about Rakurai Inc and decided to flip a coin: either he has to become a preppy academic like me, or I have to become a dumbass slacker like him. We’ll accept whatever outcome the company decides is best.
Tempting fate are we?
You were super excited. You had won the bet with your roommate and he would finally start to get his act together once the package would arrive.
You arrived home earlier than him and noticed the package by your front door. You giddily opened it up and saw it was... a candle? You smirked. A candle is way to bitchy for a stoner dropout like him. You decided to light it so the room would be all ready once hed got back.
You decided to do some homework while you were waiting.
As the time went by however you noticed you had a hard time concentrating on the material. Your thoughts kept drifting to your roommate. At first you thought it was because of your excitement for the transformation but then you noticed what you were thinking of. His long thick legs. His strong arms. His scent. You felt yourself get harder, and harder, and harder. You looked down to see a massive tent in your sweats. Wait... sweats? You were wearing khakis just before? You felt yourself rise up from your chair as your thighs suddenly began to fill out your sweats. At the same time your legs began to lengthen, your torso stretched, revealing your midriff, and turning your t shirt into a crop top. T-shirt?? You were wearing a shirt right?
Suddenly the front door opened and your roommate walked in. One glance and he immediately understood what was happening and smiled.
"Glad I told them I won, instead of you, you're looking so much better babe."
Babe? You weren’t his boyfriend though, and you werent gaaaaaaaayyyyy...
Your mind slurred. He had walked over to you and began to stroke your massive bulge. Each stroke send bolts of energy through your mind, breaking down the knowledge that you had been curating over the past years.
In its place came workout routines, different ways to use weed and multiple sex positions.
You turned your head to your boyfriend only to be met with his cheesy, musky rod against your new plump lips.
"They said it would work faster if you had some stimuli, so get to it baby"
You eagerly began to suck, feeling your torso broaden with each bob of your head. It didn't take long for him to shoot down your throat, and your arms exploded with muscle.
A musk began to permeate throughout the room and you felt yourself leaking in your tight sweats.
Your roommate might have lost the game but he sure has won the war.
Don't forget that Rakurai Inc. Is not liable for any unforseen events. Be sure to carefully consider that any changes are permanent.
My roommate is so uptight bro. He seems so stressed about his classes. He never has time to hang out with me. I wish there was a way to help him have fun again.
You wasnt sure what to expect. The directions told you to leave the bag under his pillow and everything worked out. After a few days nothing really changed. He seemed to hang out a bit more, but exams had just ended so it didn't seem weird. The third day is when shit seemed weird. An earthy smell hang around him, and he seemed not really himself. You asked him about it but he didn't seem to realise it himself.
The next day you opened the door to your appartment to find it filled with smoke.
"Ethan!!" You scream, you run around the house trying to find your roommate.
Suddenly a rush of air sucks away all the smoke out to the patio. Frowning you quickly move towards the back, your jaw dropping at what you see.
"Ey Michael, what's up. " Ethan is lounging on the couch outside, at least, you think its Ethan. The face was similar but that's about it. His arms were huge, the toned torso, thick legs and the tattoos.
"Ethan is that you?" You ask
"Ye man in the flesh" he winks at you as he gropes his unmissable bulge.
You stare as a grin begins to form on his face. He motions you over, but you hesitate.
"Sit"
His voice carries weight, enough force to move your legs against your will. You sit down next to him and he wraps his arm around your shoulder, his musk entering your nostrils, quickly turning your brain into a loopy mess.
Ethan smiles as he holds up a blunt he seemingly got out of nowhere and lights it. The burning herbs send you deeper into trance and you take it between your fingers. Your vision blurs, only Ethans handsome face and the blunt sharp. You take a deep drag and your whole body tenses. A hot rush runs all over and you begin to sweat. You groan a soft pressure pressing down on your groin.
You quickly begin to pack on muscle. Your clothes burst open, leaving you in your underwear, which, much to Ethans delight, quickly begins to tighten around your growing bulge.
You continue smoking the blunt as you increase in height, size and smell. After a while you look back at Ethan and grab his neck and pull his face to yours and make out with him.
You can't remember much, thinking definitely isn't one of your strong suits now, but you can always have a fun relaxing session with your roommate.
Ozzie was chilling at home alone in his living room after getting home from his local community college. He was bored and depressed and didn't want to think about what he was going to do after community college ended next semester because he had no clue what he wanted to do with his life. He didn’t want to go on some spiraling tangent about what was he supposed to do for the rest of his life so instead of doing that he was surfing through tv shows and movies trying to decide what to watch, he couldn’t find anything interesting on any streaming services so he just switched over to channel surfing through cable. Trashy reality tv, cartoons, straight to video movies, nothing was catching Ozzie’s interest. He finally had surfed his way to the sports channels, replays of NFL games, sports commentators talking endlessly about college basketball, channel after channel Ozzie was getting more and more restless and bored. That's when he suddenly flipped to a channel that was playing the strangest thing, it seemed like some cheesy advertisement for a gym he had never heard of. The odd thing was that the ad was absolutely silent as it kept showing footage of guys working out intercut with a black and green swirl taking up the entirety of the tv screen. Ozzie was about to keep on flipping through the channels when suddenly the ad had sound, “Come on down to Jacque’s Gym! Now through the end of the month we are offering a free month to any new guests! All you have to do is stop by and tour our state of the art gym!”. As the ad was playing the super scripted lines, Ozzie kept watching with eyes glued to the screen as the as just kept switching back and forth from images and panning wide shots of the gym to the green spiral. The ad began to conclude “Who wouldn’t wanna take advantage of this hypnotic deal?! So come on down to Jacque’s Gym located at…” Ozzie heard the sound fade away as he became more and more focused on just simply watching the hypnotic spiral. Just a few seconds later the channel resumed playing the baseball game that was on and Ozzie snapped out of his trance. He barely even remembered what he just watched, just that it left him with this odd feeling that he couldn’t place. He quickly forgot about it and hopped on his phone since channel surfing had proven to be incredibly boring.
Later that night as Ozzie got ready for bed he was just going about his routine when suddenly he remembered the ad for Jacque’s Gym that he had conveniently forgotten about. He was in the middle of brushing his teeth when he suddenly stopped as if he was frozen, his brother who was only a little younger than him noticed and waved his hand in front of Ozzie’s face and jokingly said “Hey? You in there? Earth to Ozzieeeee?” Upon hearing his name Ozzie snapped out of whatever trance he was just in and his brother, Austin, asked him “Yo where did you just go?” Ozzie replied “I..don’t know…” obviously confused himself.
Throughout the week Ozzie kept falling in and out of the trance, he never knew how long the trances lasted but by the end of the week he randomly fell into the trance when laying in bed around three in the afternoon and woke up from it around eight that evening wearing a tanktop, basketball shorts which were damp with sweat, and a beat up pair of converse all of which he hadn't worn since he used to workout a little for fun in high school. He only woke up that night to Austin coming into his room and loudly blurting out “EWWWWW OZ! Don’t you have any deodorant?!” Spurred out of the trance by his brother’s loud complaint, Ozzie sniffed the air and embarrassingly said “Uhhmmm…just uhh get out real quick!”. Ozzie had no recollection of the past 5 hours be he realized, via all the context clues, that somehow he was conscious enough to have dug up old clothes from deep in his closet that he didn’t even know he still had and had been actively working out to the point that him and his room now reeked of musty sweat and B.O. He knew that all of this had something to do with that weird ad he saw at the beginning of the week so he started doing some digging.
Ozzie took the next few days to find out what was going on with him. He scoured the cable channels looking and hoping that the weird ad would come back on so that he could try to understand what was causing this hypnotic affliction. He looked all over the internet and couldn't find anything. Then one night when searching he found this random reddit post he hadn’t found before, it was a post from someone talking about their friend. It stood out to Ozzie because the poster was talking about how he had a friend once who was a complete nerd, not a muscular bone in his body, then one day the friend started acting odd, like very spacey and kept disassociating for hours on end “almost like he was hypnotized” the redditor claimed. Then later on in the post Ozzie read something that made him feel like he was on the right path “He kept trying to get me to go to this new gym he was going to. It was something like Jake’s Gym or Jock Gym, something like that”. Ozzie knew that this had to be it and that the friend just must’ve misremembered the name of Jacque’s Gym. There was barely any traction on this week old post, but there was an update that the user posted it read “I haven’t heard from my friend in about a week despite me reaching out plenty of times. I'm a little worried but I remember that he sent me the location of the gym so that I could go with him if I wanted. I think I am gonna go and see if they have seen him at all.” The update was from just the other day. Ozzie sent the user a dm, asking about if he had found his friend and if his friend was doing any other weird trance-like things, and then he went to bed.
When Ozzie woke up in the morning he felt exhausted and quickly realized that he wasn’t in bed, he was wearing the same unwashed workout clothes he was wearing the other day and standing in the middle of his room with two 20lb. weights in his hands. Just like when Austin caught him like this, Ozzie’s natural musk hung heavy in the room. With his door and windows closed, who knows how long Ozzie was hypnotically working up a stench in the sealed room trapping all of his musk. Ozzie quickly put down the weights and stripped out of the sweat stained clothes, he ran to his windows and opened them all the way and turned on his ceiling fan in an attempt to air out his room. As soon as he did that he saw that he had a message from the user he reached out to, hoping to shed new light on the situation at hand Ozzie went to open it up when he realized that the message wasn't unread, it was sent to him at two in the morning and it had a read receipt showing that Ozzie opened it practically right after it was sent. Upon looking at what the user said, Ozzie read “Bro…you gotta come to Jacque’s its mind numbingly amazinnnnngggggg” and attached below it was a link that had already been clicked on. Ozzie, realizing that this is why he had a midnight workout sesh, weighed the risks and realized that he might get more answers if he could just sit through the video and not give in to the spiral.
He clicked on the link and it opened up the ad he saw. Ozzie made it through about thirty seconds of men working out interrupted by a green spiral when the script began “Come on down to Jacque’s Gym! Now through the end of the month we are offering a free month to any new guests! All you have to do is stop by and tour our state of the art gym!” Ozzie was keeping his mind occupied with thoughts so that he wouldn’t fall into another trance. “Who wouldn’t wanna take advantage of this hypnotic deal?! So come on down to Jacque’s Gym located at…” But just like the first time Ozzie couldn’t keep his mind together as it unraveled before he could find out where the gym was.
Ozzie came too sitting in his car in the parking lot of an old rundown strip mall, looking around he tried to orient himself. He looked down and saw that he was once again wearing the same dirty clothes infused with his sweat and B.O. that he kept waking up in, then once he looked up and in his rearview mirror he saw that perfectly framed in the mirror was a sign lit up a bright green that read, in huge block lettering, Jacque’s Gym. Ozzie rubbed his eyes and reopened them just to find that he wasn’t dreaming, he had wound up right where all the answers he was seeking were. Getting out of his car, just feet from the entrance he felt like this was a bad idea, he looked around and saw a small parking lot that could fit about fifty cars filled to the brim with every spot taken yet it seemed like every other store front around was completely abandoned. Ozzie composed himself and said “This ends now” as he began walking towards the building. With every step he took closer to the building he knew there was no going back, suddenly as if it appeared from thin air, a huge water bottle materialized out of thin air in his hand. He reached the doors and opened one, as he stepped in he felt his mind get fuzzy, a wave of stench engulfed the skinny twenty year old. It smelled as if a group of boys who have never showered a day in their lives hotboxed the gym with a barrage of farts and noxious gym socks. The wafting stench of feet, farts, B.O. and unwashed man ass was overwhelming for the tiny college student. He felt his knees go weak when suddenly he felt someone catch him, before he could react he was being carried away. Ozzie woke up in what appeared to be a dimly lit sauna room, it was about as big as a decently sized cubicle, he tried to move and realized it felt like his whole body was asleep. He heard a voice come out from what he assumed to be a speaker in the ceiling, “Looks like you found your way to your salvation boy” the deep voice from the ceiling said, “Are you ready to be the most disgusting version of yourself there is?”. Ozzie tried revolting, tried crying out for help, tried to command his body to escape but to no avail. The anonymous voice in the ceiling laughed and said “I love this part” as the sound of air slowly surged into the room. Ozzie made one last ditch effort to escape, knowing that it was in vain, as a mysterious green mist flooded into the tiny space. He caught a whiff of the green mist that was being pumped into the room, it somehow reeked worse than the stench when he walked into the gym. The green mist smelled like an eggy fart that lingers for eternity in your nose mixed with the reeking smell of a high school football team locker room on a hundred degree day. Ozzie felt something in him change almost as soon as the mist assaulted his nose, he felt that the smell he was experiencing wasn’t the revolting prison it was supposed to be but instead he felt like it smelled like…manhood. Ozzie’s brain was being taken over and rewired by the odor as more of the noxious aroma was pumped in the room, the stench of a bodybuilder’s smelly feet and the fumes from a brother’s musty unwashed pit became akin to smelling a little slice of heaven to Ozzie. He was pumped so full of the warm green mist that his body didn’t know how to handle it besides making him forever love the stenches that he was whiffing.
The green mist dissipated and Ozzie sat still exactly where he was as a door opened and a buff jock walked in wearing nothing more than a pair of electric blue shorts and Nike Air Force 1’s, he leaned down to Ozzie’s level, “You feel good lil bro? Feel the brostink flowing through you now?”. Ozzie just sat there, his mind too high on brostink to form words. The jock lifted Ozzie’s arm and stuck his head in it “PHEEEEEW OH YEAH! Bro you stink sooooooo good even if you dont have any meat on those lil bones lil brooooo!”. The jock kept Ozzie’s arm raised in the air and grabbed his head and forced Ozzie’s head into his own armpit, Ozzie was passively breathing in his own pit funk which would normally disgust him but now he just thought to himself “...me…stink…gooooood…”.
Ozzie left the sauna room and started working out for the next two hours, he left Jacque’s gym barely able to remember where he parked his car even though it was only ten steps away. He got in his car and headed home after his workout, stopping for a burrito on the way, “Gotta refuel after that…huhuh” he said to himself in his car. Getting home and throwing away the burrito wrapper he went up to his room to find his Austin rifling through Ozzie’s room, “...Bro whatcha…doin?” Ozzie dumbly questioned, “I am looking for that blue jacket I really like I think you have-” Austin stopped himself upon smelling the odor floating off of his scrawny older brother’s sweaty body, “Ozzie, when was the last time you showered?”. “Ion know…huhuhuh…you tell me…” Ozzie rushed Austin and grabbed his head, even with him being bigger Austin has a hard time fighting back as he kept getting whiffs of super potent brostink drawing the struggle. Eventually losing the grapple, Austin was held in the musty crevice of Ozzie’s armpit until he could barely breathe. Falling to the floor Austin couldn’t wrap his head around what happened to his normally clean and tidy older brother and why it felt like his mind was slowing down after being trapped in his brother’s pit prison. Crawling away Austin tried to escape before being flipped over onto his back by Ozzie, Austin helplessly cried out to his brother “...what…happened…Oz?” to which Ozzie responded simply by saying “Jacque’s happened lil broooo” before knocking out his brother with a massive butt blast.
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