Musk Tf - Blog Posts

Hey man I don’t know what is happening to me and my best friends. We been working on a science project for our chemistry class at college but something has went very wrong. We accidentally. Got some of the chemicals on us and now we feel very weird and our clothes fell tighter then normal plus I feel to have a closer relationship to my best friend of 15 years bro. So bro I need your help…… help to stop what hap….. uhuhuhuh…. happening to us BRO!

The sirens were activated. The lights flickered, and the colour changed from its usual white to red. The liquid in the test tube you were holding started to give off a thick smoke. The room was quickly filled with vapor, blocking your view.  You and your best friend panicked, screaming in fear. With a jerking motion out of fear, you spilt your test tube on the lab coats of you and your friend. In  panic, the two of you evacuated the laboratory.

You and your best friend has become flatmates when you discovered you were attending the same university. You both were doing a major in chemistry. You were two very bright students who spent most of their time studying and playing TRPGs. You had never been in a gym, and you did not really connect with people who did fitness as a hobby. However, the two of you had both grown jealous of the big burly men who roamed the campus. You combined your knowledge to find a shortcut to a better body. A shortcut to a better life.

Today was a crazy day. You and your best friend, who had been roommates for a year now, arrived home. The weird liquid had stained both of your coats. It had eroded through it, and dyed your skin. You took turns trying to wash it off. But nothing seemed to work. Your friend had been sweating since he got home. His damp clothes did not help masking the strong musky smell. You told him to shower and to go to bed. You planned to shower tomorrow.

The next morning you felt extremely tired. You stretched your arms, which seemed to be harder than usual. It seemed like your body was struggling because of, well, itself! You looked at your arms. They definitely seemed bigger than usual. A thick layer of hair covered your lower arm, as thick muscles adorned your upper arm. You looked down, to be met with two mounts of flesh that weren’t there before. Your chest was covered with a dark pelt of fur. The hair went from your chest all the way to your feet. You touched your new body, feeling the coarse hairs. You touched your belly, feeling a layer of chub on your frame. You were by no means fat, but you weren’t shredded either. Your new hair seemed to work as some sort of isolation material. You were sweating buckets! A strong smell came from your glorified body.

You headed out of your room, looking for a mirror to check out this new you. In the bathroom, you are met with a man you barely recognize as your best friend. The previously blond twink had grown a dark stubble overnight. His body had also grown in size, but not as big as you. He had gained some inches, as well as some muscle. “Bro, what happened to you?” He said. Bro? He never said bro. He wasn’t some weird douche! “Whacha mean man?” You were shocked by what left your mouth! Your voice had dropped 2 octaves being a full and heavy voice. 

All of a sudden the way your friend looked at you changed. As if his train of thought had changed. He looked at you with lust in his eyes. “He bro, you look like you need to blow of some steam. Let me help you.” He got onto his knees, his nose in the thick bush just above your dick. He sniffed your ripe musk, looking up at you as if asking for permission. You could only grin at him, as he put your thick girthy cock in his mouth.

Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!

Confidence

Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.

When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".

No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.

He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.

Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.

The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.

Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.

Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.

Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.

He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.

"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.

"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"

Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."

The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"

Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.

"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."

"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".

"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."

Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.

"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"

Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.

"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."

Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".

Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"

Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.

A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.

"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."

A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."

Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"

With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.

Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?

A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.

Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?

He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.

When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.

The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?

Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?

Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.

An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.

When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.

"Hello, Nathan!"

"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.

"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.

"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.

"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"

"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.

"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.

"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."

"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"

Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.

After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"

Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"

The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.

Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.

"Damn, it's that late already?"

"What is it?", asked Nathan.

"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"

Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.

"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."

Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.

"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"

Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.

"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.

"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"

"Sure!"

Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.

"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.

Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.

When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.

Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.

Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.

Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.

Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.

Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.

He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.

Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.

His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.

Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.

Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.

The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.

During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.

Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.

After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"

Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.

So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."

Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"

Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"

The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.

Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.

There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"

"I would love that!"

They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.

When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.

As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.

Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!

When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.

Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.

After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!

His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.

None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.

Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.

The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.

Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.

At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.

They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.

The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.

"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.

"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."

"You're not driving, are you?"

"Na, I'm here on foot."

Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."

There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.

"Sounds great!"

A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.

"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."

"Oh. Thanks."

Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."

"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.

"Yeah. Fits better, you know."

"I guess so. I like it a lot!"

"I like your style, too."

"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.

"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."

"Why, thank you!"

The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.

Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.

They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.

"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."

When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.

"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."

While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.

"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."

Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.

"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"

"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"

Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"

"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"

Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."

Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"

They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.

Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.

Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."

Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.

"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.

Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.

With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.

The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.

"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.

When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.

"You really are a big boy, huh?"

"Damn right I am."

"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"

"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."

"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."

Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.

"You're ready?"

"Do it, big guy."

Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.

"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.

The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.

Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.

"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"

"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"

Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.

"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"

Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.

The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.

A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.

I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!

The university was clearly scraping the bottom of the barrel when they paired you up with your jock of a roommate. The residence hall questionnaire could only have been entirely ignored when dorm assignments rolled in and the housing department created the ultimate odd couple.

You were there to study, take notes, get a degree, and learn how to live on your own without your parents there to cook and clean. Your roommate on the other hand was there to meet bros, build muscle, and attending to the incessant needs of his cock with whatever convenient vagina he could find at that moment. And all this took president over any kind of cleaning or tidying or laundry—it didn't take long for his sweaty clothes from his routine workouts to establish a sustained odor. At the same time, you also managed to develop a raging crush on your inflexibly straight roomie.

It didn't take long for his habits and your habits to cause friction and even less time for you to get to the end of your rope. Getting out wasn't going to be an option, not this year with the dorms at capacity and no other willing swappers in their system. In your desperation to get out or try to change any aspect of the situation, you find yourself reaching out to me.

My solution is a potion that promises to make the necessary changes to guarantee he becomes the perfect roommate for you, so long as you both drink it.

Slipping it in his protein shake proved to be quite simple. Once he was off to the gym for the evening with his spiked supplement, you took the other vial in your hand, regarded the liquid for a moment, and downed it.

...

You wait for a moment, expecting... well what should you be expecting...

After a few seconds of nothing, you wonder what you really just drank. Magic wasn't real, and despite what you'd heard about me from... whatever source, you realize how foolish you were thinking a little—mountain dew maybe?—would change anything with your disgusting roommate.

Man, his musky work-out smell is really strong. You always think it's the worst it's been and then the b.o. manages to intensify. Instead, you make a feeble attempt to distance yourself from the stench by crossing to your side of the room, except it proves to be inescapable.

Ugh, you look down and see a shirt on the ground on your side of the room. He's really taking over everything now. You go to pick it up... but realize it's one of your shirts... and... it smells. Do you need more deodorant? Did you forget to put the shirt in the hamper?— Is he wearing your clothes?... Did that thought turn you on a bit?

Wait a second. Are you smelling the shirt? You were smelling the shirt. You didn't even realize it but you while you were lost in thought, you had brought the garment with his rank aroma to your nose and taken a nice deep breath... maybe a couple—you couldn't remember...

And again... it smells kinda nice... except... you realize the shirt was his. It was a lycra compression shirt, and you didn't own any lycra... why did you think it was your shirt? You didn't go to the gym, work out; you don't have any muscle like he does so it make sense because if it was yours, you'd—

You catch a view of yourself. Each side of the room had a closet for every resident, and these closets had large, fully-mirrored sliding doors. If you had muscle, you probably would own lycra clothing, you probably would check yourself out in your closet mirror like he did, you probably would flex your muscles, like...

Like this... and this...

Even though you didn't work out, you saw some shadow of definition. You felt your modest weenie chub up as your biceps bulged even just slightly. And if you fleeeeeeeexed again... you might be able to smell your own musk wafting outward from your exposed arm pits. If you strike this pose... it could exaggerate the taper of your midsection from your shoulders narrowing to your waist. If you wanted to see that v-shape even better, you could take off your shirt... let it hit the floor... add to the pile of your other sweaty rank gym clothes. If you contracted like... this, you could cause your pecs to bulge and your arms to come into clearer definition, almost like they were not just bulging with muscle, but actually swelling, growing larger. This is what muscular people must feel like—your were turning yourself on more and more making your dick grow harder and harder seeming to thicken in your underwear until it bulges obviously in your black joggers.

And if you did have a bigger dick and bigger balls you'd have more testosterone, a sharper jaw, body hair. Hair that would highlight your abs and dust your pecs and give you thicker muskier bushes under your arms. But if you did have a bigger dick, you would probably be soooo horny. You would probably be so dumb. if you were swole, you'd just need to lift and flex... and if you were horny, you'd just need a steady stream of cock and ass to tend to your own big thick dick...

you flex again... and again... and again...

if you were a nerd, you'd probably hate living with a dumb bro like you, but you got paired with the perfect roommate who just wants to flex and fuck. just like you.

The door opens and your roommate enters. You turn towards him, mid-flex. The stench of your combined musk hits him like a drug and you see his bulge swell visibly in this fuckbro gym shorts. Somehow the college had paired you with another gay bro who was always down to offer a hand or a hole any time of day or night—and you were just as willing to return the favor.

"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"

Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.

"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.

"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."

Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.

"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"

"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.

I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.

"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"

Max's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"

Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.

I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.

"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."

I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."

"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."

I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.

"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."

The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.

"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.

I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.

"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."

I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.

"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"

I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.

"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.

"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"

"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."

Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.

"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."

"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"

Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.

"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"

"I can't..."

"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."

Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.

"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."

"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.

"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.

"Please, stop..."

"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."

"Wait, no, what are you doing?"

"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.

"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."

I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.

"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.

"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."

"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"

"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."

"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."

I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.

The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.

"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.

"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."

Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.

"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"

"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."

"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.

My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.

"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."

Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.

"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."

My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.

"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.

"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."

"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"

"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."

"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.

"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."

"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."

"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."

"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."

I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.

"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."

"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"

The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.

"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.

"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.

"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.

My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.

"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."

"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.

I was so turned on.

"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.

"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."

"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."

"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.

I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.

"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.

My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.

"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.

"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."

"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.

My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.

"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."

I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.

With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."

"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.

I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.

"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.

"I love you, dude." Max giggled.

"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."

"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."

"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.

Master

It had only been a week since the last time I had seen him, so why is my normally scrawny dorm mate and best bro standing in front of me… changed?

Rufus had always been an… interesting kind of guy. Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s just… he’s always been a little different from the rest of us bros. Can’t hate him though, known that guy since Elementary School. He’s a brother to me. He’s always been shy, quieter than the other bros in our group so was no surprise to me when he came out as gay. Of course I had no problem with it, just cause I’m a straight jock doesn’t mean i’m an asshole! Anyways, it didn’t change anything between us and we respected each other’s boundaries since he was my best friend. But the dude in front of me right now, that’s not my bro.

“Dudeeee Spring Break was so sick! It was totally life changing man, when I went on that trip with my fam I found this little plant and dude ever since I touched it I just feel brand new, you feel?” Rufus rambled on, saying this as he relaxed back against the dorm wall, revealing his bushy pits.

Instantly this smell hit my nose, catching me by surprise. Usually Rufus was this clean freak who made sure he smelled like roses and babies and shit, even making sure I washed up properly. He hated stink! “Rufus-“

“Nahhh man just call me Roof, that names sooo uptight!” he briefly interrupted.

“Alright Roof…” I paused, adjusting to the name, “I mean you do look brand new, and you’re acting well brand new too? Haven’t you seen yourself?”

A confused look spread across his face, “Aw thanks bro! I’m happy you finally brought up the ‘stache — I’ve been growin’ it out! And I think maybe I’m just more chill cuz of spring break, still pretty relaxed now y’know?”

Now I was the one confused. “Bro do you really not notice anything different about yourself?”

My best friend seemed concerned for me now, “You trippin’ bro? I mean I’m the same old Roof as always?”

This was driving me nuts. One, my best friend, who is normally a scrawny, nerdy guy looks like if you took him and turned him into huge dumb muscular oaf. Two, he stinks, which Rufus never does. And three, he doesn’t notice anything different?”

“Hey man,” The man who says he’s Rufus but ISN’T Rufus slowly said, “You seem a little stressed. Maybe you just gotta chill out, like me…” I looked up a smile slowly start to creep across his dumb face and suddenly, the entire room felt… damp.

In the sense of both wet and humid… and also kind of heavy. Almost like… my brain was slowing down… growing kinda tired… it was so hot in here… and it smells so bad… so fucking stinky. Pushing through this… trying to open up… window…

As I sluggishly made my way over to the dorm room window and reached to open it, Roof spoke commandingly, “Nah man leave it closed.”

I stopped in my tracks. My body wasn’t moving anymore. I was frozen. A wave of panic and anxiety washed over me, what the hell was going on??

I was able to move my eyes, glancing over to Roof as terror filled my mind. “Don’t worry, you’re okay bro. Just come on over here” he beckoned with his a motion of his hand.

Suddenly all the worry in my mind vanished and I felt perfectly fine, other than the odor in the room. I held in my breath as I made my way over to Roof the smell becoming more and more pungent as I drew closer. I stopped in front of him, looking him in the eye I noticed there was an aura of confidence in them I didn’t recognize.

“You don’t like the smell bro? C’mon just try it. Breathe in it for a second,” Roof urged, scratching his wiry pit hair, causing more odor to escape from the bush.

My tensed muscle instantly relaxed, following his suggestion. I closed my eyes and began to breathe in the putrid odor his body was emanating. It smelled like cheese, eggs, sweat, farts, and protein — everything the locker room does after a long practice. Weirdly enough, I could pick up on some hidden notes, a taste of spice and the tropics. Even weirder, I started to like it. I could feel sweat drip from my brow, the room getting much stuffier and hotter. I began to take in deeper breaths, the mix of Roof’s stink and oxygen clouding my mind as I tried to keep myself from passing out.

“That’s it bro… keep breathing it in. Keep breathing me in.”

I opened my eyes to find my body had slumped to the ground, muscles weak and on my knees in front of Roof. The weight of the air around us kept me on the ground, I could barely muster the strength to get up or even move. He was looking down at me with a face full of pride and a sense of dominance. I felt… content.

He ripped off his sweat soaked wifebeater, tearing through it easily with his muscles. Tossing the shreds ti the side, he began to flex his bicep right above my face and suddenly another wave of must hit me. This time however it was stronger, even more mind-fucking, like inhaling him straight from the source. Droplets of his salty sweat began to fall on my face, one by one, and all feelings of disgust went out the window. Without command, I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and stuck my tongue out to catch them. I heard Roof let out a dumb chuckle from above as he watched with content. I could feel my dick hardening in my shorts. I didn’t care. I didn’t care how gay this was, how stupid and weak I look on my knees, all I cared about was this.

As the foreign liquid fell into my mouth, my eyes shot open with disgust. The taste was sweet, putrid, salty, like spoiled juice left in a dumpster out in the rain and yet so addicting. The couple droplets I had tasted acted as an energy shot as I jumped up off my knees and brought my tongue straight into his hairy armpits. Grabbing his onto his flexed bicep for support, I raked my tongue across the bushy coils and wet skin, taking in every rancid flavor and droplet. Taking a deep breath in of his stink, the smell was heavenly now. I couldn’t live without it. A warm feeling began to fill my stomach as I lapped up more of his sweat while my mind became completely fogged as I huffed his musk. I could feel my rock hard boner was straining against my shorts, begging to be let go.

“Good boy,” Roof whispered into my ear. Almost like a trigger word for some sleeper agent, I slumped back onto my knees as my mind went blank and my eyes glossed over.

It was some dream state. Indescribable. Pure bliss. I couldn’t hear or see anything, just blurbs and slight movements. I picked up on bits of what Roof was saying. I could hear him pacing around me in the small dorm room. “Finally … waited all these years … in love with you … but you … straight … can’t handle … anymore … now you’re mine.”

With those final words my eyes fluttered open. I was on my knees on the floor of my dorm room. I looked up and there he was. Master was standing in front of me.

“Who’s a good boy?” He smirked as he began pulling his sweatpants down — he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

His pubes created a blanket of dark grass from which his cock sprouted from and balls hung. I stared at it intently, like a dog eyeing a meat stick hungrily. It was thick and girthy, like an uncut sausage hanging downwards and from the scent I was picking up, I could tell I was going to find a treasure trove of cheese if I rolled back the skin. His balls were perfect, filled with my master’s seed. I had one purpose, please him.

I wrapped my lips around his manhood and began to go to town, bobbing my head up and down. I rolled back the skin to reveal his perfect head and I assumed correctly. I looked up at my Master with happiness as he smirked, placing his hands in my hair as he guided me down the shaft. I swirled my tongue as I went down, picking up all the cheesy goodness and tasting every flavor imaginable. With ease I made it down to his pubes, his 10 inches in my throat — Master trained me well. I sniffed his musky carpet before my master’s hands pushed me back to the tip of his cock. Rinse and repeat, each with a different level of feverish desire. Master bobbed me up and down his dick, using me as nothing more than a toy. I didn’t care. I loved it. I could feel his tangy pre-cum as it started to lubricate the inside of my mouth, preparing for the arrival of his seed. I rolled my eyes back from pure pleasure of his taste. Back - forth - back - forth, he continuously thrust into my mouth and down my throat, gripping my hair like handles. I felt nothing more than ecstasy when he treated me this way. Finally I could feel his cock twitch in my mouth, and he slowed his pace allowing me to catch my breath and regain some autonomy in the situation. I wrapped both my hands around his shaft, the girth akin to a coke can, and placed my lips on his tip and began to suck again. Almost as if beckoning the seed to spout from the hole, my master’s hot moans escaped his mouth, telling me I should go on. With one final pop, his seed exploded into my mouth, filling me with the highest honor of being his slave.

He continuously pumped into my mouth groaning loudly as he did so, it had to have been seven or eight times until he finally had run out. Similar to his sweat, I could feel this warm sensation as his seed slipped down my throat as I swallowed his load. Suddenly I felt my form begin to change. I jutted my ass backwards, feeling it expand and balloon with the perfect amount of muscle and fat to keep my Master satisfied. I flexed my thighs as they grew meatier while my hips widened to bear Master’s children. Sweat dripped between my cheeks and into my crack, tickling and stimulating my asshole, beginning what would soon be my life long yearning for cock to fill my hole. I was becoming perfectly sculpted to my Master’s desires, and I was so happy.

My head throbbed with pain as memories and intelligence, anything I knew about myself for the past 20 years of my life was dissolved into my balls. I could feel my erection becoming harder and harder and my balls churning until I blew my load, all over the dorm floor. Almost instantly after, the dick I once used to conquest women turned into a pathetic excuse for a manhood. The sensation in my body dissipated and my muscles relaxed, cementing my physique and rendering my dick at an almost unusable state. That’s okay, I won’t need it.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Bad boy… look at what you did to my floor.” I heard Master’s voice scolding me from above.

I hung my head low with embarrassment as I got on all fours and groveled at his smelly feet, “I’m so sorry Master, please forgive me.”

As I looked back up, I could see as Master Roof grabbed his cock and jerked it, and suddenly he was back at full mast. I licked my lips with both hunger and happiness, looks like he was in a good mood today.

He smirked when he saw the lust in my eyes, “Let’s see how many loads it’ll take to get you pregnant.”

No Such Thing As A Free Ride

One would do well to exercise caution when hitchhiking, don't want to end up going somewhere untoward. Hitchhiker to Bro muscle growth and personality change!

In other news I've been reblogging my favorite stories at my side blog if that's interesting to anyone! Feel free to send feedback or questions there if you have them!

Occam's Revue

As ever, Enjoy! -Occam

Jace always says that he bikes to work for environmental reasons, but in reality it’s just to save some cash. Cars are expensive after all and if he ever needs a ride somewhere it’s never too hard for him to get one, usually without even needing to use an app or anything. Case in point, not five minutes after losing a tire on his bike and beginning the dauntless task of signaling to cars he already has a bite. It’s not his first time hitchhiking, usually he gets a ride sooner than he expects but this was almost bizarrely fast. 

Pulling up just in front of Jace, coming to a stop in the shoulder, is a massive truck. He grimaces at the bumper stickers for a local infamously bro-y gym but decides to not turn his nose up and tosses his bike in the empty truck bed. Beggars should not look at gift horses and what not he grumbles to himself as he makes for the side door. Before getting in he takes note of the certainly illegal tint on the windows, the only thing visible through the blackness is a massive figure in the driver’s seat. He starts to reconsider before seeing a glint where the man’s eyes must be as a voice commands, “Get in.” He is overcome with darkness as the world goes black.

Jace feels his body buckled in and in motion before any of his other senses return. He hears gusts of wind soaring through a window, deciding he must be in the truck apparently speeding down the road. His eyes open blearily and he looks around the cabin, confirming his bike is in the back before inspecting the driver. Jace blushes as he sees a massive shirtless man with his eyes on the road. He watches as the veins in his arm bulge, tendons straining with every small movement of the wheel. Jace takes in every powerful line of the man before he squints, the edges of his memory slowly returning, what exactly just happened. He opens his mouth to speak but only a creaky groan comes from his dry throat.

This is enough to draw the driver’s attention, “Woah bro you up now? You totally conked out as soon as ya hopped in. Didn’t even have a chance to introduce myself, ‘S Chase!” He sends up the automatic windows before sticking out a hand for Jace to shake. He hesitates seeing a hand that would certainly more than encompass the whole of his own, grimacing as he concludes it surely can’t be clean. Nevertheless he meets it with a gulp and chokes out a, “Th- thanks for the ride Chase, I’m Jace.” Chase guffaws at their rhyming names as he continues speeding down the highway.

Jace then wonders where they’re driving to, Jace surely wouldn’t buckle up without knowing where they were going? But surely they didn't work something out if they’ve only just introduced themselves? He’s pretty sure they’re going in the direction of his home as he tries to dig deep in his memory, trying to understand what led him to get in this car. Before recollection can begin outright, with the windows now rolled up, Jace is absolutely overwhelmed as an oppressive body odor begins to fill the cabin of the truck. Any coherent thought in his mind vacates as he is assaulted by what must be this man’s abhorrent musk. He rachets his arm up to cover his nose and Chase turns and tilts his head, “Everything alright bro?”

Jace scowls as he looks back at the driver, it seems almost supernatural how horrid it suddenly smells in the car. He scans Chase’s figure looking for obvious sweat stains before balking as he sees the man completely dry despite each ongoing breath feeling like it is more musk than air. Putting two and two together Chase sniffs the air before guffawing once more, “Yooo bro, huhuh, you’re absolutely rank.” The idea is so ludicrous he doesn’t even think to consider it as a possibility. His arm rockets away from his nose as he opens his mouth to insult the meathead. He doesn’t get a chance to do so, feeling the telltale yet unfamiliar sensation of his arm sliding against the sweat still pouring out his armpits, his mind goes absolutely blank and his face burns crimson in embarrassment.

Chase, never scared of a little bro stink, pats him on the scrawny shoulder and laughs loudly, deliberately grating Jace might think were he able to form thoughts over the blood rushing through his head. “Must’ve been outside a while huh bro.” Jace’s eye twitches as the jock calling him bro cuts through his paralysis, he goes to sniff his pits to see just how bad the damage is, only to find it sickly alluring to him. He feels something catch in his chest, feeling almost giddy at getting off to his own pit stink. Deep laughter just as Chase has done a handful of times nearly escapes Jace, as instinctual and unconscious as a sneeze or yawn. He holds back hearing Chase ask a question, “Did you still wanna head home or get a session in at the gym first?”

Stupid question. Why would he ever want to go to the gym with some guy he doesn’t even really know, still he responds evasively, if not with kindness, given the inherent charity of the situation, “Oh! No thanks Chase, I’m, uh, a little tired and all.” Almost tackling on a I should shower to the end, the thought goes sour in his mind and he shakes it off. Chase purses his lips and shrugs, “Yeah that checks out ‘lil bro. You’d probably get in the way anyway with that long hair and all.” 

Jace feels insulted before he is torn on whether or not to be taken aback by that, as stated he doesn’t want to go so he should just let it fly. But something in his chest suddenly wants to speak up at the challenge. And what was up with that weird hair thing, he can just tie it up obviously. Jace pulls down the passenger mirror to look at his reflection, to tidy his hair or perhaps put it up to show the dunce how he’s surely able to go with him. No action follows as his reflection appears, seeing the long garish hair trailing down his back he is hit with a feeling of disdain, almost revulsion, at his long gaudy bleached hair. He puts a good deal of effort in each day taking care of his long locs, but all of a sudden, wouldn’t it be better if they were just gone? He’d look way better if his hair was like Chase’s. God he almost just wants to rip it out.

His hands rocket to his scalp and he itches with determination, as if this basal instinct was the only thing that matters to him. His long hair flies around the car no mind paid to its aesthetics or care, with each lash out the strands begin to shrink back into his scalp. Losing its carefully colored bleach and cleanliness as it rapidly sucks in, leaving behind a greasy close-cut that would do well to be hidden under a hat. His head swings back into the seat rest and he stares again at his own reflection, pride or something even more primal rises in his chest as he sees this new masc haircut framing his pretty boy face. Chase’s hand goes to hit him in the back of the head, “Nice haircut bro! You look like a real man now huhuh! You growin’ out some stubble to huh?”

Jace rubs his hair a few seconds longer watching as a few hairs start to poke out of his chin. In no time at all he’s got a messy yet deliberately maintained beard on his chin. He checks his angles in the mirror and fights back against the instinct to smirk at his own reflection. God what’s gotten into him. As if reading his mind Chase quickly interjects to keep him focused on his reflection, “your arms are lookin’ pretty tight too dude. Bet they’d look better without those tattoos though.”

Rather than retorting about his arms being sticks and bones or defending the tattoos that he spent a good deal of time stressing and dreaming over. The first thought that surfaces as his eyes stare into the small mirror is ‘what tattoos?’ His eyes glaze over as he stares at himself, his mouth lulling ajar, just short of drool pooling out as his arms rise to flex. Blotches that must be tattoos on his upper arm rapidly fade as he strains to make muscle rise on his biceps. Definitely not though as he’d never get tats, and distract from his definition? Psh- Muscle pounds out of his arms as the thought occurs to him. Veins pulse as a defined almost baseball sized hunk of meat bulges on his arm, no larger than a baseball. Jace finally gives in and smirks at himself as he is overcome with pride looking at his own reflection. Fuck his arm looks so fucking jacked.

Seeing Jace flex at himself Chase tries his luck again, “Still don’t want to hit the gym with me bruh?” Jace clicks his tongue and replies, “I literally just said no didn’t I br-” only just stopping short of calling Chase bro. Massive arms he may have but he certainly doesn’t have the head of a dullard on his shoulders. His shoulders. Meekly looking at his reflection, he can't help but focus on his small shoulders and chest, aching for more power. Chase brightens as a rare thought bursts into his mind, “Ohhh I get it bro, you’ve already been today haven’t you?”

Jace’s eyes widen as the words pour over him, already been to the gym today? His chest vibrates as muscle begins to form where there was no weight at all to speak of. His nipples rub against his shirt as pecs begin to stretch his tank top tight before straining it to its limits. He grunts as he feels the traps he only just wished for push out of his bony back, the straps over his shoulders cutting into his now expanded shoulders, as the seat belt tightly hugs the chest still pushing out larger. It is not long at all before his shirt rips off altogether, Chase shouts praise for his bro but the gears begin to slow to a crawl in Jace’s mind as he feels the heat radiating off his impossibly growing body.

Like a computer overheating, every process in his mind slows as he struggles not to just shut down in the face of this, this. He cannot waste effort thinking about what horrors are happening to him. He just needs to, ugh stop it. He just- He just needs to flex, doesn't he? His body does so whether that’s what he wanted or not. Vibrating with power and strain as whatever resistance remains in his mind begins to trickle away as he feels a pressure grow in his crotch. Jace feels his thighs strain his pants and he kicks off his shoes before they burst entirely, revealing his incredibly holey socks and loosing his inhuman foot odor into the car. No chance to react as his core rapidly tightens, abs pounding and putting on weight as from head to toe he hardens and grows tight with power.

He burps loudly, tasting something unfamiliar and chalky. It is immediately followed up by a laugh rather than the shame that something inside him desperately fights to assign it. It is met with a side-eye from the driver before he too bursts out laughing, “Brooo I thought you said you didn’t wanna get pumped with me! Why’d you have pre then?” Jace blushes as he looks down at his crotch, seeing his cock pump larger than it ever has before, though he tilts his head in confusion as he doesn’t see a pre-stain, yet at least. Jace turns to look at Chase in sheepish confusion before the man responds, “Huhuh, pre-workout you doofus, stop thinking with your balls for a sec bruh, hah!”

Jace smiles to himself, pleased that Chase found him funny even if it was at his expense. Why would he be with his bro if he wasn’t going to the gym, he did drink pre-workout like his bro said? Jace feels himself start to get a headache as he strains to think, Chase’s eyes fill with pity before darkening with a hunger as he pats Jace on the back, “ay chill chill bro, you don’t need to come if you don’t want to.” Jace’s eyes burn and his nose flares as he grunts. He does want to go to the gym, now. He needs to more than anything. His mind is filled to bursting with the desire to spend time pumping iron with his bro at the gym. Chase smirks as he watches the fire leave his passenger’s eyes and they glaze over. Clearly no original thoughts will be flashing through his mind, perhaps no thoughts at all anymore. 

He speaks up and Jace looks over like a dog to his owner, “While we’re on the way Jace, would you mind driving the rest of the way so I can wank one out real quick? You know how I get in there and I don’t want to lose it while I’m lifting bruh, huhuh.” Jace nods eagerly looking for any way to please his bro. He buckles up, tossing his leg over the wheel as Chase hops in the back. Images of his bro doing this before fill Jace's mind, alongside just as many of the two of them jacking off back there together. He shakes his head as he feels his cock start to stir in his pants, inching further down the leg of his shorts. He smirks as he thinks about their workout, and more importantly the fun they are to have together immediately after as he smells Chase’s odor start to mingle with his own. No thoughts are spared on the bike sitting in the back as it shifts to a dirty workout bag, why would he need a bike anyway when he never leaves his bro’s side.

The New Gym Bro

Beau was antsy as he was driving over to the gym, he had just gotten over a bad cold and finally felt good enough to return to the gym. You see the gym Beau goes to has something special about it, it is where he gets to see his gym crush. Upon entered the gym Beau realized something was off, the cute little twunk that worked at the front desk was now a buff jock with a porn stache, looking at himself in his reflection and flexing his arms. “Uhhhh hi do you know where the membership card scanner is?” Beau asked politely, “Huhuhuh oh broooooo” the hunky receptionist moronically spoke “ We don’t do uhhh memberships anymore broooo! New uhhhhh management brooo, everyone is welcome nowwww” The receptionist flexed his arms again. “Oh ummm okay thank you!” Beau cheerfully said, walking past the front desk towards the locker room, that’s when he smelled it. Wafting through the air was the smell of sweat and B.O., very normal for a gym but today it was something else, something strong, something potent and offensive to a normal nose. Beau being grossed out just simply groaned to himself and thought to himself, “I guess letting anyone in brought in more unhygienic teens”. Upon entering the locker room it was quite empty but he saw two guys round a row of lockers and start coming towards him, both pretty hunky, with porn staches and mullets. One had his arm draped over the other’s shoulders as they approached and the other looked dazed, almost like he had been drugged, as the two guys passed Beau smelled the most rancid smell ever pouring out of the guys and polluting the air. Beau covered his nose with the collar of his shirt and the not dazed looking guy said as they passed “What? Huhuh cant handle the smell of real men brochacho? That’ll change soon enough huhuhuh!”. Paying little mind to the weird comment, Beau went to a locker and got changed and went back out to the gym.

After working out for a little over an hour and a half, he was getting fed up by the manly stench filling the entire building, getting off of the treadmill, Beau grabbed his stuff and began walking back towards the locker room. That’s when it happened, Beau heard from behind “Yo bro! Wait up” and then felt a sweaty hand slam down on his shoulder, “What is it?!” Beau said a little annoyed that he just got slapped on the shoulder with a sweat drenched palm. Turning around, Beau’s brain went haywire, standing in front of him was his gym crush, and he was talking to him! “Huhuhuh brooo I uhhhhhhh couldn’t help but see you were leavin’!” His crush said. It took Beau a second to realize whi this guy was, it was his gym crush! But he looked so different, he was beefier and he resembled the receptionist and the two guys in the locker room more than he resembled himself from two weeks ago. “Oh yea I was about to head home” Beau responded, “Do you think I can like uhhhh huhuhuh interest you in doing a set with me homie?”, wanting to take his crush up on the offer but knowing he too drained to do it without embarrassing himself Beau politely declined. “Awww man” Beau’s crush said dejectedly, “I really wanted to do something with you! Uhhhh do you think I could maybe take you out to dinner then?”. Shocked that his crush wanted to wine and dine him Beau couldn’t muster a response for a second, but then he just nodded and shyly said “I’d like that, I would like that a lot”, his crush grinned and joyfully and boisterously responded “ALRIGHT! THATS AWESOME I'M SO HYPED BROOO! Oh my name is Maverick by the way let me give you my number homie”. Upon getting his number Beau made his way to the locker room absolutely giddy and unable to stop thinking about his (hopefully) soon to be boyfriend. Beau got changed and was about to close the locker when he heard from an approaching familiar voice, “Oh one last thing before I can take you out on the town!”. Beau turned around and was face to face with Maverick, maybe it was because the space they were in before was bigger or because the gym already had a cacophony of foul stench hanging in the air but Beau suddenly just noticed how rank Maverick smelled, especially since Maverick just raised his arm above his head. Maverick released a puff of stench from his unwashed armpit right into Beau’s face, coughing, Beau covered his nose and mouth, “Nuh uh uh brooo” Maverick proclaimed, “Let the stink help you let it helped me”. Not understanding what Maverick was talking about Beau just wanted to leave and no longer take Maverick up on the date offer, but suddenly he watched Maverick’s hand slink to the back of his head and Beau then felt as Maverick violently and suddenly pulled him into Maverick’s reeking pit. Catching a big whiff on accident Beau felt as taking a hit straight from the source made him feel fuzzy everywhere. As he slowly lost control of his body Beau heard Maverick utter, “Not much to change with you broooo huhuh, makes my job easier, normally having to transform the nerds and weaklings takes so long!”

Trying to push back and resist, Beau was doing well and probably would’ve eventually escaped his funky prison if it wasn't for the fact that Maverick’s man-stink was essentially brainwashing Beau’s brain into liking the stink and craving more of it. Beau, against his own will, stopped struggling for his freedom and submitted himself completely to Maverick’s B.O. That's when it started, unlike other people Maverick had transformed, Beau was already quite the perfect specimen of masculinity, the only issue was that he didn’t follow the gym’s new dress code or follow the gym’s strict rules on fragrances. Maverick was going to help Beau fall in line. Beau felt his feet grow a bit, becoming cramped in his sneakers and then worse than that they got itchy, really itchy, at first it seemed like a random thing but then the itch kept growing and growing, refusing to stop. As his feet grew bigger and increasingly itchy, Beau felt his armpits do the same. Reaching into his left pit with his left hand, Beau forced his hand into his newly minted jungle of foul-smelling hair, just like a dumb ape. He felt his crotch get really itchy as well, with his left hand still in his own fetid armpit, Beau sent his right hand down to quell the itch in his pants. By the time he started scratching his crotch, he felt a forest of pubes coming in, a thick, curly, forest that reeked of sweat and cum. No matter how much he scratched Beau couldn’t stop the itchy feeling even a little bit, moving his beefy right hand down from his bush and onto his shaft, he began to slowly play with his fuckstick. Maverick watched jovially as he saw Beau reach the point of no return, once a man starts jerking it he is too far gone in the transformation to be saved…or so Maverick thought.

Suddenly as he was touching himself, Beau pushed away from Maverick, freeing himself from the pit reeking of decay. “Huhuhuh woah no one has resisted me this far into their transformation bro! You are something else!” Maverick cockily said. Beau, still affected by the pit funk clouding his brain, was unable to respond. “Well, it looks like I’ve been bested bro! You win!” Maverick said in the same cocky tone. Beau, now regaining more control as the fog wore off, retorted with “You…are…such a…freak!”, “That might be true,” said Maverick, “But do me a favor…smell your fingers”, Beau, trying to resist the influence that Maverick and his stink still had over him hid his fingers away in a clenched fist but, as he lost the battle of will, Beau unclenched his left hand, brought it underneath his nose, and took a big whiff. Feeling the malodorous scent of his own armpit rushing through his head, Beau returned his free will and walked back to Maverick, “Huhuhuh you are so weak bro! Welcome back to manhood tho!” Maverick announced as he watched Beau’s head slump down. Leading him to a full length mirror, Maverick made Beau look at himself and said to him “Look at you, tried to fight your destiny and now you are even weaker than before, how stupid. I hope you know that for your insolence, i'm gonna make you the stinkiest, dumbest, most incompetent gym bro I have ever made. You are gonna smell so nauseating and vile that you are gonna run off all of your friends and lovers, and you are gonna be so idiotic that you are gonna need someone to watch over you and keep you safe and happy. But don't worry, I love your stink and I don't mind watching over you, especially once I strip you down.” Maverick watched as Beau’s shorts grew a mountain in them as he heard what he was about to finally become. “Good boy,” Maverick said as he groped Beau’s meat stick.

Grabbing the back of his head for a second time, Maverick took Beau’s head and stuck it right back into his stinking pit. Beau’s transformation, beginning where it left off, started to force a mustache out of his top lip. A torrent of thick, dark hair pushed out of his upper lip creating a porn stache perfect for a 70’s porn star. Being so close to the Maverick’s musty pit, Beau’s new stache became tainted, stinking to high heaven with Maverick’s pit funk, constantly dumbing Beau down as he will now always be forced to huff the funky stench. Beau returned his hand back to his long fuckstick as he began to play with it again, just in time for his brain to melt into the cum churning in his big smelly balls. As Beau huffed more and more of Maverick’s armpit, his mind began to fade, more and more of his memories dissipated and dissolved, not even being replaced, just leaving an empty space in his mind as to keep him as dumb and empty as possible and the same thing began to happen to his intellect, leaving Beau with the intelligence of a 9th grader but leaving all the knowledge Beau has on how to pleasure a man fully intact.

Beau, completely transformed, began to feel his balls grow too full to comfortably hang normally, he knew he was about to abdicate his seed. Gaining more and more pressure, Beau couldn’t keep it from happening, all at once he shot out the biggest load he ever had right into his shorts. As a huge wet spot appeared, Maverick finally released Beau from his funky armpit, not like the locker room smelled much better at that point. Maverick kissed Beau and said “I'm so glad to find the perfect new gym partner and a perfect new boyfriend all in one tight package, especially one that smells as putrid as you!”, flexing his arms, Beau sniffed both is pits and guffawed like the big oaf he just became.

Putrid Profession

You were sitting at your desk well after most of your staff had gone home. Earlier today your assistant Max informed you that Noah, a new employee you just hired for social media marketing, has been not meeting deadlines and has been showing up to work late. Reassuring Max you told him to go find Noah and ask him to come into your office at eight thirty that night. As he walked out of your office you could hear him saying under his breath “I don’t want to go talk to that gassy oafs cubicle. Why couldn’t this just be a email” and so off Max went. Oddly Max came back with watery eyes and his hair looking like it had just been blown back with a leaf blower, groggily telling you that Noah will be in at eight thirty Max told you that he “wasn’t feeling very well” and proceeded to ask to go home. You granted permission for your twinky little assistant to have the rest of the day off and told him that you would just get someone else to go out to get your lunch later. Now, hours later, you were waiting for Noah to come in so you can have a chat about getting him back on the right track with the company.

(Your assistant Max)

Hearing your door open, you look up from your computer and see “Noah” standing in front of you. You were a little shocked because this isn’t who you remembered hiring, he was much beefier now than just a few weeks ago. “I heard you wanted to uhhhh like talk to me boss man” Noah said, his vernacular was dumber too than it was when you hired him. “Take a seat Noah, I don’t want to make you stand for too long”, you told him, “Uhhhh is this gonna take long bossman? I have to hit the gym in a bit, my bros are expecting me”, Noah dumbly said as he scratched his behind. “Oh, no this shouldn’t take long” you said obviously surprised that he was being a bit disrespectful. Noah sat down and leaned back, spreading his legs super wide. You began to talk to Noah about his failure to meet deadlines and his tardiness when it came to work. As you were going on and on about this you caught a whiff of something foul-smelling permeating the air, “Aughh that reeks! Do you smell that?!” you asked Noah. You watched as a devilishly grinned, “Smell what bossman? My fart fumes?” he chuckled as he let out a loud, echoing fart. Utterly shocked you covered your nose with your shirt collar, “Huhuhuh that cute assistant of yours tried the same exact thing when I butt blasted him!” Noah tauntingly said. “This is utterly disgusting and unacceptable behavior in the workplace Noah!” you yelled out, “Eh” he shrugged “you won't think like that soon” and then under his breath he said “if you’ll be able to think at all”. You began to cough and as you were coughing, you tried to fan the fumes away from your face. “Might as well get comfy” Noah said taking his shirt off. The first thing you thought was “I need to call HR immediately tomorrow” immediately followed up with “But I shouldn’t do that to someone who is this sexy”, shaking your head you knew you would never, in a million years, think that in a situation like this, he was being essentially a gross teenage boy, how was that hot? you got up and said “I think this talk is over Noah” and started heading for the door, “I think it is too” said Noah fiendishly. As you we’re walking around your desk towards the door, Noah let a massive fart rip, “Ahhhhhhh” he moaned, “That's been brewing since my burrito at lunch”. The fart was absolutely rancid, capable of knocking someone out, you felt your knees get weak and you collapsed. You picked yourself up onto your knees and as you looked up you saw Noah…

“Bombs away bossman” you heard from Noah as the most putrefying funk blasted out of his smelly ass and right up into your nose. You watched Noah lean into the long fart as his ass got less than an inch away from your nose. Feeling your strength completely drain out of you, you passed out on the floor. You woke up feeling groggy and weak but you got yourself to your feet. Noah was nowhere to be seen and you couldn’t exactly remember what just happened. Collecting your thoughts, you walked to the bathroom as a sudden urge to take a dump came over you. Bursting into a stall, you pulled your pants down and let out a boisterous cloud of flatulence into the toilet bowl. Feeling sudden relief you got up and walked to the mirror, relishing in your own funky fumes clouding the bathroom you looked into the mirror and made eye contact with your reflection as you let another fart blast out of your ass. Dumbly guffawing you heard a notification from your phone, pulling it out of your pocket you saw it was a photo from your assistant Max

The pic was followed with the text, “we should give noah a promotion or something bro i haven’t felt so good in forever i cant stop hotboxing my bedroom with my fartsss you should come like see bro”

Feeling hot and horny all of a sudden you stripped off your shirt and sent Max “broooo ill do whatever you want as long as you let me fuck your fart makerrrr”

Teenage Boys REEK

It was so nice being out of High School. It had been 2 or 3 years since you last had to walk the poorly lit halls of your horrible High School. You enjoyed getting out of your hometown too, being able to go off the college and experience the world for what it really is had been an amazing experience but now it was summer, Your Sophomore year of college was over and now began the long wait in your hometown until September when you got to go back to San Francisco for college. To pick up a few extra bucks here and there you were helping tutor kids over the summer so that they would retain the knowledge from what they had just learned over the past year until they got back into a classroom. Many of the kids you tutored were incredibly talented and smart kids who were forced to get tutoring by their parents. They didn’t even need your help for most of the stuff you were tutoring them on. But then there was Rico, his full name was Ricardo but he never let anyone call him that. He was a 18 year old Junior, held back 2 times in his school career. He was a baseball player who was dumb as rocks but an absolute prodigy when it came to baseball.

He always bragged about “Carrying his team to State every single year”, he always emphasized “his” everytime he said it. It was well known that he was only ever going to go to college based on his baseball ability, he didn’t have the SAT scores or GPA to get into any college minus community colleges. You were reached out to by his parents to help him or to at least try to help him with some of the subjects he struggled with the most. You agreed and had been coming over to help him 3 times a week every single week for the past month. It was a struggle but he seemed to really be getting a bit better at some of it.

It was a hot day in early July when you stopped by for your second visit of the week. He was the only one home and you could tell based on the fact that his car was the only one home and you could hear him blasting music from his room as you approached the door. You knocked but he obviously didn’t hear given that he didn’t open the door, you rang the doorbell, still didn’t answer the door. Then you simply tried to open it, it was surprisingly unlocked so you let yourself in and took your shoes off as you walked in the tidy house. You had never gone upstairs before because you always tutored him either in the living room or at the kitchen table. As you walked up the stairs you located his room by how loud the music was. It didn’t take very long to get to his door and you knocked on the closed door, no response, you knocked again, still nothing. So just like the front door you opened it and were immediately berated with the foul scent if an unhygienic teenage boys room. “OH SHIT” Rico exclaimed surprised to see you, it was obvious the empty headed boy forgot you were coming over, “Dude! What are you doing here bro”. To you and any person with a shred of intelligence would know that the obvious answer is that you are here to tutor him, like you always do, but this was news to Rico. “Reallyyyyyy?” He groaned, “Againnnnnn? This is like the fourth time this week!” It was only Tuesday, you hadn’t even made it more than 3 days in the week so far. “Well…I guess we can just do it here in my room” Rico said. Even though the smell was awful you decided that you would just do it in here. The difficulty was finding a place to set up. The desk was covered in beer cans, old food, one of Rico’s boxer briefs was hanging from the chair. The floor was even worse, Rico’s baseball uniforms sitting in a pile wafting out an foul aromatic scent, a pile of sneakers, cleats, and flip flops sitting near the bed, and even more cans and old pizza boxes on the floor. The only spot that was suitable for the tutoring session was next to Rico on the bed. Rico was shirtless and wearing his chain and a hat twisted backwards. You sat next to him trying not to disturb the small haphazardly stacked pile of socks on the bed. You put your bag on the floor and pulled out a textbook from it and got to work. Not even more than 10 minutes in Rico began to complain, “Man this is whack. My parents aren’t even here why do you gotta do this” You told him that it was your job and that you had to but this didn’t quell hia complaints. He kept going on about how boring it all was and how he could be doing better things etc. etc.

After a while he got this odd almost devilish look in his eye, “How bout a deal?” He said smugly, “You let me teach you something that you’re not good at and then we’ll continue for the rest of the session”. You really didn’t want to but you thought that it would shut him up so you agreed. “ALRIGHT BRO!” He shouted out excitedly, “IM GONNA TEACH YOU ALL THERE IS TO KNOW ABOUT BASEBALL!” Rolling your eyes you knew that you should have seen this coming and that this was gonna be a long day. Surprisingly it took about half an hour to grow bored, and you asked if you two could get back to studying something useful. Rico, obviously a little offended, said “Woah dude, I thought we had a deal!” he then proceeded to make a face that looked like he was thinking, “I know…” he said in a tone that made you uneasy, “I should just show you the results of my knowledge and all the hours i've spent “studying” my craft” He put finger quotes around the word “studying”.

You watched as Rico quickly bent down and grabbed one of his cleats from the pile beside the bed, with one quick move he pressed it into you face so hard that you were forced onto your back. As you lay on Rico’s bed, the tip of your nose touching the damp insole of the well used cleat, you quickly caught the first acrid whiff of Rico’s foot funk. Nasty and incredibly nauseating, the smell overpowering you and you began to try and push Rico’s funky cleat off of your face. Unfortunately Rico and his years of “studying” paid off with the result being arms that can hold you down just with a little bit of effort. You felt you eyes begin to heavy and your body began to weaken when suddenly Rico released you from the grasps of the malodorous shoe. Breathing in the “fresh” air of the room you were dazed and confused and about to gather the strength to yell at Rico when suddenly you felt him grab your arm. “Man you put on some muscle didn’t you bro?” He said as he squeezed your arm. You looked and to your shock and awe you now had arms like his. Confused, you tried to think of a way this was possible when he grabbed your thigh and said “Woah and you've got some beefy legs now too!” Looking down you confirmed this by seeing the tree trunks that sat beneath you.

Utterly baffled, you watched as Rico suddenly sniffed the air, “Eughhh” Rico blurted out, “Bro do you smell that?!” You followed Rico’s lead and smelled something rotten, something that lingered in the room earlier but now was fresh. “BRO! HUHUHUH” Rico dumbly laughed, “ITS ME!” Lifting up his arm Rico revealed his pits dusted with hair stinking to high heaven. You heard yourself involuntarily let out the same dull laugh as Rico as you watched him sniff his pit and let out a proud sigh. You sat on the bed and shook your head violently as you snapped out of the stink-induced trance you were in. As Rico watched this he grabbed your head and pulled you in close as he kept his other arm held high. “Bro…” Rico dumbly uttered, “You gotta get a whiff of my pit stink” He said as he quickly pulled your face into his rotten armpit. Much like the cleat you tried to pull away and escape but even with your new found muscled bod, you couldn’t escape Rico’s pit stink. You felt yourself get used to the smell as it slowly turned from a noxious cloud infiltrating your nose into a fresh, pleasant scent filling not only your nose but also the room. The reality was that the ripe pit you were in was decaying your brain into mush but you were none the wiser.

Rico lessened his grip from your head but your head still stayed in the overripe pit and continued huffing the good stink it was letting out. Eventually you finally pulled your head out after you got your fill, you let out a long deep chuckle as you sat on the bed. Rico followed suit, letting out the same idiotic laugh and said “Dude, get a whiff of you!” he said as he jokingly fanned his nose. Following orders like a dumb puppy you lifted up your muscled arm to find your own sour scented pit with its own dusting of hair trapping the stink. Taking a deep whiff you felt yourself go light headed and your head bobbed a bit. Taking whiff after whiff of the decomposing smell streaming out of your armpit, you felt as the last bits of smarts in your block disintegrated and were replaced with the knowledge that Rico possesses in his empty head. Your years of learning were all erased and replaced with your years of practicing baseball with your bro Rico, the years you spent at college were erased as you regressed back to your 18 year old self. Baseball was all you knew, you were just another dumb jock who couldn’t even do simple math or read basic literature without stumbling over his words. You had entered the smelly boy’s room, a well-put together nerd and had left it as one of Rico’s baseball buddies, stinking to high heaven constantly and brainlessly going about life.

My boyfriend recently told me he likes feet. I was into it at first but it feels like it’s replacing our sex now. I wish he wasn’t into my feet anymore.

A genie in baggy basketball shorts and massive, neon sneakers is sitting at your dining table with a small sweet on a plate in front of him. It’s your boyfriend’s favourite. “Make sure he eats this,” says the genie, and vanishes with a burst of foot-fetid smoke.

It’s no problem to get your boyfriend to eat the sweet. The hardest part is distracting him from getting on the floor at your feet to sit at the table and eat like a regular person. The instant the treat disappears down his throat, he jerks back as if he’s been struck. For a moment, his eyes are glazed, then he blinks. Licks his lips. Stands and excuses himself.

After a confused moment, you get up and follow him. Wasn’t he just supposed to stop being into feet? Pushing into the bedroom, you stop.

Your boyfriend has stripped out of his shirt. His torso is sweating profusely, and he’s buried his face in his own armpit! You can see the rock-hard bulge in his pants. He glances over and sees you. Not pausing in sniffing and licking at his own pit, he lifts his other arm invitingly.

The stench of his musk hits you like a physical blow. Why wouldn’t he be obsessed with his armpit? The smell has you hard and panting from ten feet away. Not bothering to undress, you bury yourself in his sweaty pit, moaning loudly as you lick up your new favourite taste.

His obsession with your feet has been replaced. Now you have something you can share!

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.