Halloween: Latino Cowboy ● Arab Prince ● Pumpkin Heads ● Wolfboy
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Asian Flu: Case Study ● Research Report: Subject J ● Subject IND1 ● Subject IND2-G
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A bit of a longer read, hope you guys enjoy and happy Pride!
It wasn't always that nice around ███████.
I want that on record before anyone reads what happened next, because I spent thirty-one years being the kind of man who always tried doing the right thing for our town. ███████ was mine. I knew every pipe and breaker in the town because I sold them over the counter six days a week. I knew all the morally questionable crap these people did for the "sake" of God.
I kept it all to myself though.
Why? Because that's the only way someone like me could survive this long in this place.
When the council voted on banning anything related to homosexuality in the town forever, I clapped along. In the same meeting, Pastor Finch scheduled a men's prayer night the following weekend.
I signed up like everybody else. I had to.
I thought maybe if I pretended long enough, I'd start to believe it. I thought that maybe, just maybe, if no one ever found out, I could live a "normal" life, and maybe even be happy.
Of course, I was wrong.
...
It was the night I had signed up for. I sat near the back because I always did. Close enough to belong. Far enough to watch.
Finch prayed loud about guarding our sons and daughters in the name of the Lord.
As you may know, June is used by the world to celebrate sin. But here in ███████, we know better. We know that sin is a lie, a trap, a poison. We know that God made us in His image, and that means we are meant to be pure, to be chaste, to be faithful.
He paused, and looked around the room.
Lucifer was punished for his pride. He wanted to be like God, to be above God. He thought he could do better than the Lord. But he was wrong. He was cast down to the lowest depths of hell, and he will never rise again.
I could see everyone agreeing to his sermon. Finch continued.
So we gather here tonight to crush pride. To crush the lie that we can be anything other than what God made us to be. We gather here to pray for our brothers and sisters who are struggling with temptation, who are fighting against the darkness in their hearts. We gather here to support each other, to hold each other accountable, and to remind each other of the truth...
The lights flickered once.
... That pride is a sin, not a celebration. That we must not let the world corrupt us, but instead we must stand firm in our faith and our values. For that is the only way to be truly free.
Everyone clapped. The room was filled with the sound of every man in the church slapping their hands together, some louder than others, but all in agreement.
Finch smiled like he'd won something. His mouth opened for a benediction.
"A-"
But nothing came out.
Suddenly, the air in the church felt heavier - hotter. The lights flickered again, but this time more violently.
Then, a voice echoed through the room. It wasn't coming from Finch's mouth, nor the speakers. It was like everywhere and nowhere at once. A deep voice, smooth and commanding, that made every man in the room stop breathing.
"Amen", it said.
The pastor's eyes widened. He looked around, trying to find the source of the voice, but it was impossible. He tried asking who said that but no one in front of my view had done it.
"Hello, my dear brothers", the voice proceeded to say. I could hear it like it was right next to even though there was no one there.
Finch's face went pale. "The devil... he's trying to tempt us. He's trying to distract us from our prayers. Don't listen to him!", he said trying to sound brave. "In the name of the Lord, I order you to leave this place demon!"
"It will take more than that to get rid of me, pastor", the voice said. It sounded amused. "You think you can just say a few words and I'll go away? I was just getting started."
"Who are you? What do you want?" Finch asked while visibly shaking.
"Who am I? But you just told them about me, pastor. About how I fell. About how my pride ruined me." The voice said mockingly.
"Lucifer... impossible!" Finch shouted.
Some might call me that, but I prefer to think of myself as a... consultant - a guide if you must. You see, I know all about everyone in this room, pastor. I know your secrets, your sins, your lies. I know the truth about each and every single one of you.
I didn't believe it at first. I didn't want to believe it. I didn't even believe in God, let alone the devil. But what was happening in front of my eyes was undeniable.
I don't usually interfere directly boys, but I couldn't resist tonight. So sorry about that.
"Leave at once demon!" Finch retorted, but the voice just laughed again.
I'm no demon, pastor. If anything, we should be calling ALL of you that. You see, I was so pleased with your sermon, pastor. So proud of you for standing up to the world and preaching the truth. I wanted to reward you for that. So I thought, why not give you a little... demonstration? A little taste of what happens when you let PRIDE take over?
He continued.
ALL of you in this room are sinners. ALL of you have secrets. ALL of you have things you're ashamed of. And ALL of you have been pretending to be something you're not. You think you're better than me, pastor? You're not. You're just as corrupt, just as broken, just as lost as I am.
The voice went on, picking through the men in the room one by one:
"Pastor Finch", the voice said, and I could see the colour drain from his face.
You preach so righteously against sin and pride, yet you’ve been sneaking your secretary into the rectory after hours, spreading her legs and unloading into her like a common sinner. Some man of God you are.
Finch's face went white. "That's a lie."
It isn't, and we both know that.
The atmosphere was getting tenser. I could feel the air getting hotter, it was starting to feel like a men's locker room after practice.
"Jimmy Voss", the voice said.
You bullied Cole in school, didn't you? You made his life miserable. You thought you were better than him. You thought you were the king of the school. If that's not PRIDE, I don't know what is.
"Shut up!" - Jimmy said, but I knew that was true. He made my life miserable in school. He was the one who called me a faggot in the hallways. He was the one that made me feel like I didn't belong back then. And now, here he was, being called out by this entity in front of everyone.
The voice kept going, unhurried, picking through all the men in front of me. Deacon Reyes, who tithed with one hand and skimmed the youth fund with the other. Old man Hargrove, who'd been seeing his neighbour's wife since her husband started working night shift. The Martinez brothers, who shared a woman every other weekend and never told their wives...
Finch tried to speak. "In the name of-"
"No. In my name-" the voice interrupted.
In my name, pastor, I order you to stop living a lie. I order you to live the lives you are so ashamed of. Feel what's like living in other people's shoes for once. I order you to be PROUD of who you are, no matter how sinful you think it is. I order you to embrace yourselves, to stop hiding, to stop pretending. I order you to be honest for once in your lives. I order you to be FREE.
Then, the lights turned off completely and when they came back on, the voice was gone.
...
What the fuck was all that?
No one said anything for a moment. A bit awkward to talk after everyone's deepest secrets had been exposed in front of the whole church. Not like I didn't know most of them already, but still...
Jimmy Voss was the first to break the silence. He looked around, trying to find the source of the voice, but it was impossible. "What the hell was that?" He sounded scared, but also angry. Like he wanted to be mad at someone for what just happened, but didn't know who to blame.
Finch was out of words. Reluctantly, he raised his Bible again.
Brothers. We are not shaken. We are not-
But Jimmy made a sound that cut him off. A loud groan, like he was in pain. He bent over, hands on his knees, and I could see his face go red. His eyes rolled back in his head. He looked up at the ceiling, and then down at his pants. His eyes were black? No, in fact his sunburnt skin was turning a deep brown right before our eyes. He was growing in the middle of the aisle.
"James?" Finch said.
"I..." Jimmy rubbed himself through his pants without shame. "God. This feels good..."
Sit down. Sit down right now. James. In the name of the Lord-
"Don't even try it, pastor.", the same voice from before said, but now coming from Jimmy's mouth.
Jimmy Voss, it's time to be PROUD of yourself, you big, strong, bisexual king.
Two deacons moved to grab him, but as they got close, they both froze. Deacon Reyes's body betrayed him. I could hear his bones cracking as he bent over, groaning and moaning as his body started growing and his brown skin lightened to a golden tan. The second deacon, white as flour, went the other way. Brown flooded his arms, his nose broadened, and his hips thickened. He tore his zip down and exposed himself, nothing like the man he'd been in the mirror that morning.
"What's happening?" Finch shouted.
This is a trick! This is a lie! This is-
But he was interrupted again by the Martinez brothers, sitting in the front right next to him. Though their skin tone did not change, their bodies also thickened fast until they looked like 2 identical Latino studs. They started groping each other, moaning and touching themselves in front of Finch.
The whole church was in chaos now. People were getting up, trying to run, trying to fight, but it was no use. Finch was getting desperate.
In the name of the Lord, I command you to stop! I command you to leave this place! I command you to stop corrupting my flock!
He made the sign of the cross.
I renounce th-
But he couldn't finish.
His voice cracked as his body started betraying him too. Like the others, he started growing, his old age melting away as his biceps torn through his clothes.
...
I had to get out of there.
I couldn't stay and watch whatever the hell this was happening to all these people I knew, so I ran.
Miraculously, my body didn't start changing. I didn't know why, but I wasn't about to question it. I just ran out the back door and into the street, trying to get as far away from the church as possible.
And so, I ended up in the closest place that was still open nearby - the town's only gas station. I needed to talk to someone. Maybe Joe could help me. He was a nice guy, he'd probably believe me.
I entered the gas station, but it was empty. Or so I thought. I heard a noise coming from the back room. I walked in, and there was Joe (well at least I thought that was him, he looked more Asian now), the owner, hunched over, his pants around his ankles, moaning like he was in ecstasy while a man I didn't recognize was fucking him from behind.
Fuck. Not here too. What do I do now?
That was the moment I realized this was bigger than just the church. This was probably happening all over town. I had to get help. I had to call someone who could do something about this.
Too focused on the situation, I didn't notice how the 2 men in front of me were staring at me with hungry eyes. I had to get out of there before they decided I was next. So I ran out of the station without even looking back. The closest place I could think of was my own hardware store. I needed to get my phone and call someone. I needed to get help.
There was this number I had seen on one of those ads on the radio before. AEGIS. They were supposedly some kind of agency that dealt with emergencies, and got famous for their handling of the Asian Flu around the world. I didn't really believe in that stuff, but at this point, I was desperate. I needed to call someone who could help me.
Back at my store, I locked the doors behind me and went to the back office. I grabbed my phone and dialled the number I recalled from the ads: 1-800-AEGIS. Thankfully, they picked up instantly.
Woman: Hello, thank you for calling our support line. What's your emergency?
Me: Please help me. Something's possessing the men in my town. I'm going crazy. I don't know what to do.
Woman: Can you please state your name and location for the record?
Me: My name is Cole. I'm at the hardware store on ███████. Please, you have to help me.
Woman: Give me just a moment, Cole" she said. A tired man's voice with a slight accent came on the line.
Morrow: Cole. This is Agent Morrow. I need you to stay calm and tell me exactly what happened.
I told him everything. From the sermon at the church, to the voice, to the transformations, to the gas station. I was shaking by the end of it, but I needed to get it all out.
Morrow: Understood, Cole. I know this is a lot to take in, but I need you to listen to me very carefully. We are aware of the situation in ███████ and we are sending a team to your location right now. I need you to stay inside and lock your doors. Do not engage with anyone outside. Do you understand me, Cole?
Me: Okay, but what do I do if-
*beep beep beep*
The line went dead. I tried calling back, but it just rang and rang without anyone picking up.
Great. Just what I needed. I was on my own until they got here. I sat in the back office for a while, trying to calm down and think of a plan. I didn't know how long it would take for them to get here, but I knew I couldn't just sit there and wait. I needed to do something.
Owning a hardware store had its perks. I had access to all kinds of tools and supplies that could help me defend myself if I needed to. I started barricading the windows with shelves and tables, and I grabbed a few things that could be used as weapons just in case. I wasn't sure what I was going to do if any of those possessed demons showed up at my door, but I was determined to protect myself and my store.
...
At two in the morning, there was a knock at the door.
I didn't know who it was, but I knew it couldn't be good. I slowly made my way to the door, trying to stay as quiet as possible.
Cole. Cole, open up. I ain't feeling right.
I pressed my eye to the peephole and stopped breathing. I could see Trevor outside, or at least I thought that was him. He was the last person I expected to see, especially in this state. Trevor worked for me during the weekends mostly. He was standing in front of my door in basketball shorts and nothing else. Instead of his usual pale skinny frame, I could see a sweaty mess of muscle, covered in a golden hue.
Please, man. I need your help. I don't know what's happening to me. I can't control it.
No way I was gonna open that door.
Boss... I ain't like th... I never...
He then proceeded to lose himself on my welcome mat. I could smell his musk through the door. I closed my eyes, trying to think of something else besides the sexual image of a latino Trevor jacking off on my porch, but it was hard.
After a while of going at it in front of me, his eyes rolled back and he came, spraying his load all over my welcome mat. Fuck... it was kinda hot to think about it.
When his eyes opened again, they were black. He looked at me through the peephole, and smiled.
You like that, Cole? You like the smell of my cum on your mat? You like knowing that I'm out here, jerking off for you, while you hide inside like a little bitch? Keep pretending, Cole. See how long that lasts.
That was the last thing he said before he walked away. I stood there for a moment, trying to process what just happened. I was shaking. I didn't know what to do. What if the other possessed people were going to come after me next.
I didn't sleep well that night. There was no bed in my store, so I had to improvise. That, and I was also scared to death of someone getting inside the store while I was asleep.
...
Still, I woke up the next morning to silence. Had it all been a nightmare? I turned on the radio, but there was only static.
Outside, ███████ was quiet. Too quiet. I looked out the window and saw that the streets were empty. I checked the front door. Trevor's cum was still there, dried and crusty on floor. So it hadn't been a dream. I stayed inside, trying to keep myself busy. But it was hard. My balls were kinda heavy, it had been a while since I had jacked off and this whole ordeal had made me horny against my will.
Suddenly though, I heard knocking at the door again. This couldn't be good... so I slowly made my way to the door, trying to stay as quiet as possible.
So many of them were outside... Trevor, Voss, Pastor Finch, the Martinez brothers, and a few others I didn't recognize. All standing there, looking at me through the peephole with hungry eyes. I could see their cocks straining against their pants, and I knew they were all hard.
What was I supposed to do now? I couldn't let them in, but I also couldn't just sit here and wait for them to break in. I needed to think of a plan, but my mind was blank. I was too scared to even move.
Then, my radio came to life:
Morning, Cole. Sleep well after you called your new friends?
How do you know that!?
I know everything about you, Cole. I know what you want. I know what you need. And I know that you're going to let them in, aren't you?
"I'm not listening to you." I yanked the radio cord out of the wall. The voice kept talking.
You thought that would work? Bahaha, nice try, but you can't escape me. I'm just trying to help you, Cole. And have some fun while we're at it. You know, I think you might be the best one yet. This town is sure lucky to have you.
Shut up! I don't want to hear from you any more! Leave me alone! I just want to be normal! I just want things to go back to normal! Why are you doing this!?
Normal? But Cole, you were never normal around here, were you? You think I don't know your secret? You were always the one who was different. And now, I'm giving you the chance to just be yourself. To embrace who you really are. You should be PROUD of yourself, Cole.
"WHO ARE YOU!?" I shouted, my voice echoing through the empty store. "What do you want from me?"
Maybe I owe you an explanation. You see, Cole, I'm not really the devil or whatever you folks believe in. It would be too hard to explain, but let's just say that the energy coming from this place was just too much for me to resist. I couldn't help myself. I had to get involved. And now, here we are. Just you and me, Cole.
Please, just leave me alone... I don't want to be a part of this. I don't want to be a part of any of this. I'm not a bad person like most of them. I'm not like them... Just leave me alone!
"Not like them?" it said, almost gentle. "Baby, you're the only one who was ever like them at all."
I still had no idea what the voice was talking about.
What was I supposed to do? I was just trying to survive! I just wanted to be like everyone else! I didn't want to be different! I didn't want to be a target!
You're the biggest sinner in this town, you know that? All these men you see - they cheated, they stole, they fucked around. But you? You sat there nodding while they condemned people like you. You never disagreed. You just sat there, pretending to be one of them. Look at them now, Cole. You don't have to pretend anymore. You can finally be yourself. You can finally be FREE.
I pressed my eye to the peephole again. Jimmy stood at the front of the pack, his cock still hard in his pants. He wasn't trying to break the door down. Well, none of them were. They were just waiting.
Then, in the back of my sight, I saw movement. Black SUVs rolled down the street, and stopped in front of my store. I thought I was saved. But then I saw them setting up shop and standing back, just watching.
"They're not here for you", the voice said. "They couldn't care less about a random closeted man in the middle of nowhere, you know. Let's hurry up then, we don't have much time left 😈"
As the voice said that, heat hit my chest. My shirt pulled tight across pecs that hadn't been there 5 minutes ago. I looked down and watched my nipples push hard against the cotton. My arms felt heavy...
No... Not me. I'm not like them. I don't agree with-
Just admit it, Cole. You are the biggest hypocrite in this town. Living a lie for more than 30 years.
My khakis were tented bad. The head of my cock pushed against the zip, thicker than it had any right to be. I slapped a hand over it, but it throbbed back and a wet spot spread fast.
Through the peephole, Jimmy stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell his musk through the door.
"Come out, bro" - he said.
My thighs swelled inside the pants. My ass felt heavier, rounder, like it had been waiting years for someone to grab it. I stumbled back from the door and hit the counter, breathing hard.
"Just say the truth, Cole. Say it and I promise I'll let you keep some of your personality", the voice said again.
"I'm not-" But my hand went down my pants without permission, stroking slow. Every pump made my head fuzzier. "I'm not... I go to church. I'm normal."
My shirt ripped at the shoulders. I looked down at a chest splitting with muscle, abs carving in under my skin. I still looked like me. Just bigger. Sweatier. Dumber. My cock hung fat and veiny past the open fly, leaking down my thigh like a faucet I couldn't shut off.
"I'm gay..." I said so low I barely heard myself.
"Finally coming out of the closet, huh?" the voice said.
Jimmy's fist hit the door three times. "Louder."
I was crying now. I didn't want to say it. I didn't want to admit it. But I couldn't stop myself. The voice was right. I was a hypocrite. I had been living a lie for so long, and now it was all coming out at once.
My hand was still down my pants, stroking my now big fat white cock like it was the only thing keeping me sane. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. It felt too good. It felt like I was finally being honest with myself for the first time in my life.
And so, with one last pump, I shouted it...
I'M GAY!
My cock exploded as I said it. The heat and pleasure went through my whole body. I felt like I was on fire, but in the best way possible. My biceps doubled in size, while my pecs grew into 2 slabs of perfect round squishy muscle. My cock thickened another inch, heavy and proud, and my brain went quiet in the best way. No more worrying what other people thought. No more pretending to be something I wasn't. Time to be PROUD of who I am.
"Fuck yeah. I'm gay." I said dumbly.
Finally cumming to your senses, huh? I must say, I enjoyed this little show, but I must leave you now, lest I let these lower-dimensional beings get too close to me. Be PROUD of yourself, just like everyone else is now.
And with that, the voice was gone. The heat started to fade, but the changes stayed. I was still dripping with cum. I looked at myself in the mirror behind the counter and barely recognized the person staring back at me.
A dopey grin spread across my face without me choosing it. I walked to the door barefoot ass naked and unlocked it. The morning air hit my skin and I laughed. It felt... good.
They all looked at me when I stepped out.
Jimmy Jamal first, with his now dark skin and thick arms. "Took you long enough, bro. I was starting to think you were gonna be the only one left out."
At that moment, I didn't think. I didn't hesitate walking straight into him. I didn't care that he used to bully me for being gay. All I cared about was that I was finally free. That I could be myself without fear of judgement. That I could finally be proud of who I am.
He grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me hard, tongue shoving in while his thick fingers found my ass and pushed two inside without asking. I moaned into his mouth like a bitch in heat. My fat cock rubbed against his abs, leaking all over both of us.
"Fuck... you're tight", he growled.
He spun me around and bent me over the hood of my own truck. I caught a glimpse of the black SUVs packing up and driving away, but I didn't care. I was proud of who I was now.
Jamal shoved in one long thrust and I saw stars. My white ass stretched around his dark meat while other men watched. Every pound made my head emptier and happier.
"Fuck me", I slurred. "Please... fuck me harder."
Jamal laughed against my neck and gave me what I asked for. My cock swung untouched beneath me, smearing pre on the bumper. I was proud of being a dumb, cock-hungry white faggot in this town, and I wanted to show it off.
He came fast inside me, filling me up with his hot, thick load. It filled me up so much that it leaked around his shaft and ran down my thighs. I was so full that I couldn't even move, just standing there bent over the hood, moaning and panting like a dog in heat.
Fuckin'... best day ever
Jamal slapped my ass and pulled out slow.
You like that, bro? You like being filled up with my cum and being my little bitch?
I stood up on shaky legs and wiped some cum off my cheek with two fingers. Sucked them clean without shame. Best day ever indeed...
...
The black SUVs never came back. Many changes happened in the town over the next few days.
I don't remember if there had been any women in the town before, but ███████ was proudly a town of only men now. Pride month became a month-long yearly tradition for us. The local church was turned into a gym, and Pastor Finch became the town's personal trainer. Men frequent that gym religiously now.
Me? I still own the hardware store, but lately I've been having a lot of success fixing people's pipes. Guys around here have been having a lot of problems with their plumbing lately, and I guess they just trust me to get the job done. I don't know if it's because I'm the only one who can do it, or if it's because they love to look at me before laying pipe. Anyway, business has been booming and I couldn't be happier.
Im seeing more and more "red pilled" tf blogs popping up or "red pilled" muscle worship blogs popping up.
Ive reported and blocked 3 today, I want to make something some clear here, maga / right wingers fuck off. Do not follow me do not engage with me or dm me.
Sexualising masculinity is one thing, its fine, its healthy, sexualising actual nazis and nazi linked behaviour is another,
> oh but its just a fetish
> oh but its just role play
> i just think the aesthetics are hot
> i just have a slave / humiliation kink
> Im gay but im not part of the lgbt community
Let me be clear, these are people who actively want queer people DEAD, this includes you maga dick chasing fags. These men that you idealise literally joke about torturing people like you behind closed doors, fuck not even behind closed doors. If you think that being masc, a gym bro and a more traditional man is gonna shield you from their judgement it wont, if they gained power tomorrow theyd bring back the gay panic law and would shoot you dead without a thought.
Queer people (not just gay men ALL QUEER PEOPLE) have had to fight for their rights, they have literally died at the hands of men like theses so you can be open about who you are. I dont know if its that a lot of younger gay men in america have gotten the luxary of the world set up for them by queer elders that makes them act like this, but as a guy who comes from a country where gay marriage wasnt legal when i was a teenager and queer people had a lot of issues when living together and I marched for my rights, I was part of the campaigns...
YOU SHOULD BE FUCKING EMBARRASSED TO SAY YOU FIND ANYTHING MAGA IS HOT.
Maga gays think only white men should have rights (<- actual words of a reported post)
Well ill one up em and say I think nazi cunts should be fucking scared to go outside!!
Hey guys, Ko-fi nuked my commissions page because of a bulge pic, so I don't have access to it anymore. I have set up another way to request commissions instead, which I think is better than relying on a 3rd-party service that doesn't like NSFW content anyway. On other news, I guess I accept Paypal now as well.
That's it, you can continue scrolling now.
For all of those that had a commission with me, don't worry, nothing has changed and I will be finishing them.
“Alright sir, your total will be $134.18 today. Cash or Card?”
“Neither. I usually don’t need to pay for things like this.”
I was befuddled by the forwardness, “I’m sorry sir, but you are going to have to pay for your groceries today. Cash, card, or please get out of my line.”
“I’m sure we could come to an… arrangement.” In the middle of the store he took off his thin tee shirt.
He flashed a charming smile as he flexed his muscles, his torso on full display.
“I’m sorry sir, this is very inappropriate. I am refusing service. Please exit the store.”
“What, no one’s looking besides you. It’s just you and me right now baby,” his voice had gone low, smooth as silk, “come on, can’t you cut me a deal?” He practically shoved his musky body in my face. I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead. “You do me a favor, I’ll do one for you.”
Something about this felt strange. My face was flush as my clothes began to feel tight against my body. My polo suddenly was too warm, too tight, too scratchy against my body. My pants felt close to bursting. Even though my dick was straining against their right enclosure, begging to be set free, I felt the weight in my pocket more. My wallet was pressed tight against my thigh, a thick square almost squeezing out of my pocket. Unconsciously I had been tracing the outline.He had noticed.
“That’s it babe, pull it out.”
He shifted positions, placing his hand firmly on the wall behind me and began teasing. Treating me to a blast of his damp pits.
“Make your daddy proud.”
He was treating me like a child, “Please sir I-I”
“No please and begging babe. Just hand it over to me.”
I couldn’t resist any longer, “Ye-yes Sir.”
I was already holding the wallet. I fiddled for a card-
“The whole thing.”
I handed him my wallet. He flashed a winning grin as he pulled out my driver’s license.
“Awww, such a good photo of you babe.” He flicked the plastic back at me. The photo looked… wrong somehow. Too energetic. Too bright. But it was hard to focus. Under the heat of his presence and the heavy musk I was almost panting. He pulled out a green credit card.
“What’s my pin?”
I almost cried, “7352.”
“Good boy,” he swiped the card and took a step back. As the weight of him shifted I felt more relaxed, but somehow far emptier. “Young guys like you can’t be trusted with money anyways.”
A shiver ran down my spine, as my body stretched and settled. Energy pulsed through me. I hadn’t felt this way in years. “Would…would you like a receipt Sir?”
“No receipt. Thanks for asking. You’re such a good boy,” the words burned in my ears. I was sure I looked like a wide eyed fool, but I was waiting, hoping he would say…
“Oh, you can cum for me now.” He said it.
I felt a wave crash over my body as he said it. I ripped out of my shirt as I grasped for my dick, too late to stop the thick damp spot from forming on the front of my khakis.
“Hopefully that body reminds you of your Master.”
“Yes sir… thank you sir…”
“I will be keeping this.” He slid his wallet into his pocket, “And I expect to be able to use this whenever I need to.”
“Yes sir…” I watched as his beautiful body disappeared under his shirt again. Mine lay in tatters on the ground around me.
“Goodbye babe.” And with his dazzling smile he left.
“Thank you for shopping with us…” I shouted after him, far too loud and quickly.
As I looked around me, I couldn’t help but feel a deep shame and deep lust for what had just happened. My mind, body, and soul had realigned in just a few short minutes. There was only one question to ask myself,
“Shit… what am I going to tell my wife?”
A quickie I wrote this morning, let me all know if you like it. Thank you all for the support, notes, comments, reblogs, likes, etc.
Bro one of my frat brothers came back from a trip and he seems different. His skin is darker, he has a beard, and I think I heard him speaking Arabic. I heard him on the phone saying something like “the change will happen soon”. I’m kind of worried
...
"I don't know who you are, dude. How did you even get this number?"
*hangs up*
...
It had been a week since that phone call, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Jake. He had always been a bit of a wild card, but this was different. How could he have changed so much in such a short amount of time? At the start, you thought maybe he'd just got a tan or something, but the beard was harder to explain. There's no way someone like him could have grown that beard in just two weeks without some kind of help. And the Arabic? That was just bizarre. You had never heard him speak anything other than English before. No way a big idiot like him could have learned a new language that quickly.
Though he was still your bro, right? You had to believe that. You really had to.
You tried to talk to him about it, but he just brushed it off and said he was fine. Same old Jake, just with a new look. You couldn't help but feel like there was something more going on, though. He seemed more serious, more focused. He spent more time grooming himself and hitting the gym alone instead of hanging out with the guys.
Life went on like usual. Every day, you'd wake up, eat your favourite cereals for breakfast, and head to class with some of your frat brothers. You'd go to the gym together, grab lunch together, and then hit up the local bar for some drinks at night. But Jake was always doing his own thing. He'd skip out on group activities and spend more time alone. You couldn't help but feel like he was hiding something from all of you...
It was about a week or two later when you felt something. You woke up one morning and your head was pounding. You looked in the mirror. Same old you, but you kinda felt weird. Maybe it was just a hangover from the night before? Whatever, you thought. Time to get up and eat some breakfast.
You entered the common kitchen and saw Jake sitting at the table. He didn't even look up at you. He just stared at his phone, scrolling through something. Grabbing the milk inside the fridge, you poured yourself a bowl of cereal and sat down across from him. Every time you grabbed a spoonful of cereal, you couldn't help but notice how he was staring at you. Really unsettling... but that was basically it. Your head felt much better after eating though, so you just tried to ignore it. After that interaction, you went about your day as usual, though you felt a bit weird...
You hit the gym with Mike and Ryan like usual. The weights felt good - lighter than normal, actually. The rest of the day was normal, you went to class, hung out with the guys, and then hit up the bar at night.
...
That night you woke up twice with a raging hard-on.
Not able to ignore it, you grabbed your phone in the dark, loaded up your usual porn - the kind you always jerked to in secret - and started stroking... but nothing. Your cock stayed rock hard, leaking all over your fist, but the video kinda felt boring. You went back to your feed, scrolling through more and more porn until you found something that caught your eye: a little twink being fucked by 2 guys at the same time. Usually you weren't that into twinks, but something about this video made you curious. You clicked play.
The twink's ass was so tight, you could almost feel his heat through your phone screen. Your eyes widened as you watched a thick cock slide in and out of his ass, stretching it to its limit. You couldn't help but think about how good it would feel to be inside that tight little hole. It made your own dick throb harder than ever, until you eventually came. Very weird... You'd never been into twinks before, but you were too tired to think about it and fell back to sleep...
The next morning the headache was back, and worse. You stumbled straight to the kitchen, grabbed the first thing you saw in the fridge to quench your thirst (some milk), and poured yourself a huge glass. Chugged it in four gulps. Relief washed over you so fast you actually moaned a little bit.
"Fuck... that's better..."
Jake was at the table again, scrolling on his phone. He glanced up this time, eyes flicking over you with that same unsettling smirk.
"Morning, bro. Enjoying the milk?"
"Very funny dude... my head's hurting like hell... I just need to hydrate", you replied taking another sip of milk. Your headache had subsided enough that you could think clearly again.
The rest of the week felt almost normal. Classes, gym, meals, hanging out with the bros - everything rolled on like usual. Jake kept doing his own thing, but you stopped pressing him about it. Whatever. Bros change sometimes.
The only things that weren't normal were the headaches and the constant need to jerk off.
Every single morning the pounding was there the second you woke up, like your skull was trying to split open. You'd drag yourself out of bed, splash water on your face, and the pressure would ease a little once you got moving. By evening it would start creeping back, but you powered through.
The horniness was worse though. Way worse. You'd be in class, trying to focus on the lecture, but your cock would be throbbing in your pants, leaking pre-cum onto your thighs. It was like you'd hit puberty again and couldn't control it. You jerked off four, sometimes five times a day, each time taking more than before to reach climax.
You also started noticing other weird things around the frat...
Mike had always been the big jock of the house, but lately he looked extra pumped after every workout. You started questioning if he'd hopped on gear or something, though it was probably just your imagination. He looked bigger, stronger, manlier. You could even tell he'd started letting his facial hair grow in, even though he always shaved every single morning. And the sweat... fuck, he was always drenched in it now, pits smelling nastier and thicker than ever before, like pure raw musk. He did look hot as fuck though.
Then there was Ryan...
Ryan, Ryan, Ryan... the frat's charming party bro. He used to be the frat's resident stud, always hitting on girls at parties and making sure everyone knew his name. But lately he seemed different. He'd been showing up late for nights out, sometimes not even bothering to show up at all so he could go lift at the gym alone. His skin had this warm glow lately, and he seemed so fuckin' different - way more jacked than before - even though it was clearly still him. You didn't know he could grow a beard like that, let alone that he had chest hair now. All of it was so damn confusing.
Finally there was Tyler...
Tyler was one of the smartest guys in the frat, always acing his classes and doing well on exams despite looking like a bodybuilder. But lately you couldn't help but notice he'd been acting a little different too, like his mind had been completely blown by something. Usually you could find him either buried in his books or at the gym working out, but now he'd just slouch around the house shirtless, watching braindead TV like a total idiot for hours. You didn't know he was that fucking hairy under his shirt. The guy used to be a straight-A nerd and now he just looked like a lazy, hairy, half-naked slob zoning out on the couch. It was all very fucking strange... and for some reason you kept catching yourself staring at his chest way longer than you should.
It wasn't just them either. Pretty much all the other guys in the house had been acting a little different too. The vibe around the place was changing. Some guys seemed more aggressive than usual, like they were itching for a fight. Others were more withdrawn, like they were lost in their own heads. It just felt off, and you didn't know why, but you knew it had to be connected to Jake and his trip somehow. You just couldn't figure out how...
Until four nights later.
It was 2 AM. The headache slammed you awake like a fucking hammer to the skull, your cock already half-hard and leaking into your boxers. You crept downstairs in the dark, desperate for something to take the edge off. A faint light glowed from the kitchen.
Jake was standing in front of the fridge in nothing but shorts. You looked down and saw his hand grabbing the milk jug. On his other hand though, you could see something huge... You could see it... it was... his cock! His shorts were shoved down, his fat brown cock out and leaking. You watched, frozen in the doorway, as he stroked himself slowly, grunting low, and then blew a thick rope of cum straight into the jug.
"Jake... what the fuck?" you whispered.
He turned, not even surprised. A cocky grin spread across his face. His body looked huge under the fridge light - deep bronze skin, heavy pecs covered in dark hair, full beard framing his jaw, cock still dripping. It's like he'd doubled in size since he'd got back from the trip.
"About time you saw habibi."
His voice had a thick accent you'd never noticed before.
"Been doing this every night since I got back. Nasl Sheikh straight from the source.... You've all been getting a little taste for two weeks now."
Your stomach dropped. "What did you do to them?" you demanded, stepping closer even though your head was still pounding. "Mike, Ryan, Tyler... All the guys are acting weird. What the fuck did you do?"
Jake laughed, deep and easy. He set the jug down and looked you dead in the eye.
"You've all been drinking my milk every day for two weeks. Cereal. Shakes. Coffee. What do you not understand bitch?"
"That's not p-possible. Turn them back-"
Your voice died as Jake reached out and grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his dark brown stare.
Your skin had this warm bronze glow now - not the pale white you were used to seeing. Your chest looked fuller, hairier. Your hair seemed darker, messier. You hadn't noticed any of it. Not really. The headaches, the endless jerking off, the way everything felt... off. You'd been too busy watching the other guys to notice the changes in yourself. But now you could see it. You were changing too. You were becoming one of them.
"The nasl is already in you too" Jake said softly, stepping closer so his musky scent washed over you.
"That's why the headaches every morning. That's why your old fag porn doesn't work as well any more. You think I didn't know you liked men? You were always a little different, a little weaker than the rest of us. Most boys around here fooled around a bit. But you? It was so obvious. That soft white-boy brain of yours is melting nice and slow too. Gonna make you a real man. A straight breeder. Just like you should have been from the start."
Your heart hammered. You wanted to argue, but your cock was throbbing harder than ever, leaking down your thigh.
Jake poured you a full glass from the jug.
"Drink."
You stared at the thick white liquid for a long second. Then you took it. Drank it down in one greedy go and...
Better. You felt so much better already.
The thick, salty-creamy liquid slid down your throat and settled heavy in your gut like it belonged there. Your skin started tingling hard, your muscles felt warm and swollen, and your cock - already half-hard - surged to full mast, throbbing painfully against your boxers and leaking like a faucet.
"Fuck..."
Jake grinned wide, that smug look never leaving his face.
"Good. You will be my wingman from now on, brother. You want to be a REAL man after all, don't you?"
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. You wanted to say no, to refuse, to fight back, but you couldn't. Your mind was too focused on the aching pain coming from your boner. You needed to unload fast.
"Keep drinking my seed every day and you'll be a REAL man in no time. Strong. Dumb. Ready to breed. Make sure the other bros drink their fill too." He gave your aching bulge a light tap. "Now go take care of that. You're dismissed."
You didn't answer. You just turned around and stumbled back upstairs with your legs shaking. You barely made it to your room before you ripped your boxers down and started furiously jerking your cock. A video with a twink was still open on your phone. You went right back to it, stroking hard, imagining sliding into that tight hole and breeding it deep. It still worked... but something felt different now. Your brain kept twisting the fantasy. What if that tight little hole wasn't an ass? What if it was a pussy? Wet, warm, gripping you different. The thought made your dick throb so hard it hurt.
You switched tabs fast, searching for "twink with pussy" and suddenly you were watching trans male porn - boys with tight little pussies getting fucked. It felt wrong... but your hand wouldn't stop moving. You pictured yourself pounding one of them, stretching that pussy wide, flooding it until cum leaked out. You came so hard you saw stars, thick ropes painting your abs while you moaned like a bitch in heat.
...
The rest of your week turned into a slow, sweaty, horny haze.
Your stubble came in thicker and darker every morning, no matter how many times you shaved. At the gym your shirts felt tighter across the chest, your arms and thighs filling out faster than they ever had. Sweat poured off you in buckets, and your pits smelled horribly, the same nasty musk the other guys were starting to carry. Your cock felt heavier in your hand every time you jerked off - each time longer, thicker, with less foreskin, and more sensitive than ever before.
You kept drinking the milk anyway - you had to - every single day.
By the end of the week the trans stuff started feeling a little flat on your cock. Your brain kept pushing further. The trans dudes turned into real girls in your head - thick thighs, bouncing tits, dripping wet pussies begging to be bred. You swapped to straight porn almost unconsciously, stroking to it, imagining yourself slamming balls-deep into some curvy bitch, pumping her full of Arab seed until it leaked out.
You tried to fight it at first, but it was useless. Your white-boy brain was already mush from all the Nasl Sheikh you consumed. Your brain felt slower, fuzzier, happier just thinking about lifting, praying, and breeding. It felt so good to be a breeder - to imagine yourself as the alpha male, the one that could make bellies swell and babies come out. You could feel your balls tightening just thinking about it - thinking about spreading your virile musky seed, breeding more cocky alpha studs like you.
The headaches stopped after that. Not because the nasl had worn off - fuck no. It was because your skull had finally finished reshaping itself. Your brain felt lighter now, smoother, like all the old complicated shit had been melted down and poured out through your cock. The last scraps of your old self burned away completely. No more confusion. No more hiding who you really were. Just pure, simple, alpha need flooding your slower, happier brain.
You rolled out of bed and caught your reflection in the mirror on the way to the bathroom. The guy staring back wasn't the soft white frat bro who'd made that first nervous phone call weeks ago. Your chest was a solid slab of muscle covered in a dense rug of black hair that trailed down over abs you could actually see now, disappearing into a treasure trail that led straight to the fat, circumcised Arab cock between your thighs. It was thicker than your wrist even soft, the head already glistening with a bead of pre. Your balls were bigger too, hanging low and full, churning out the same potent seed that had turned every single one of your bros.
Downstairs the kitchen smelled like home.
"Morning, brother" Jake - or Khalid as he called himself now - said with his now deep and accented voice.
Mahmoud (Mike) grabbed the jug, gave it a shake, and poured everyone a tall glass. You took yours without thinking and drank deep - three long, greedy gulps of warm, salty, ultra-thick homemade Nasl Sheikh. It slid down your throat like it belonged there, settling heavy in your gut and spreading heat through every vein. Your cock surged to full hardness instantly, slapping up against your abs with a wet smack.
You set the glass down, wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, and let out a low, satisfied groan that came out half in Arabic.
"Wallahi... feels fucking perfect, bros."
The rest of the house was the same now. Every single frat brother - bigger, darker, hairier, dumber, and hornier. The common areas smelled like musk, sweat, and fresh cum. The fridge was stocked with the group's nightly nasl every single night. Nobody questioned it any more. Nobody wanted to go back. Why would they? This felt right. Strong. Simple. Masculine.
You were Yusuf now - a loud, dumb, hairy, straight Arab alpha. Big muscles, big balls, big ego. Obsessed with lifting, praying, and breeding every tight pussy you could find.
"Enough standing around like pussies", you barked at the other bros. "We're going out tonight. I want fresh pussy. I'm breeding at least three tonight and I don't give a fuck who they are. Any bitch that looks at me is getting her womb flooded."
Your brothers roared in approval, raising their fists while their cocks twitched at what you just said. The old soft white boy who made that scared phone call weeks ago was dead after leaking out of your musky cock.
This was your life now, and it felt fucking perfect. Who knows what would happen next...
Part 1 of a collab with the great @alternate-real-ities. Keep a look out for part 2!
---
Alfred groaned as he slowly came back to consciousness and pushed himself off of the cold concrete floor. As he tried to collect his thoughts through the painful throbbing in the back of his head, one fought its way to the front: where the hell was he?
It wasn’t that Alfred wasn’t used to waking up in strange places. He knew he didn’t seem like the type to be out partying all night and getting blackout drunk, but he had... A friend who seemed determined to have them go out together every night, so despite being a gangly, shy 27 year old accountant, Alfred was actually pretty used to waking up in strange places with no idea how he got there. The problem was, even for him, this place was… weird. Usually when he woke up after a night out he’d be in a strangers bed, or in the backroom of a club, or even a gym locker room a few times, but right now he seemed to be in some sort of dimly lit warehouse. Not only that, his head hurt like hell, far worse than could be explained by a hangover, and… wait, was he in some sort of cage?
Alfred felt pain and exhaustion leave him as the sinking realization he was trapped sent adrenaline pumping through him. He was in the middle of a large shiny cage, although considering the size he could probably call it a cell. Acting on instinct, he went to the cage door, grabbing onto one of the bars, and screamed as he felt it burn his skin. He pulled back, clutching his hand to his chest, his face paling as he realized what was going on. Normal cages didn’t burn people. Normal cages wouldn’t burn him. Not unless they were…
“Silver.” A commanding voice said from the darkness. Alfred flinched back at the voice, and looked over to see a large figure step close. “Not quite as deadly as it would have been for our ancestors, but if you get enough of it and charge it up with the right magic…” The figure stepped closer, and tapped the bar with a finger, letting out a slight, almost satisfied hiss as it burnt him too “... effective enough.”
Alfred shuddered as he looked over the being before him, a mix of fear and a strange feeling of submission combining inside of him. He didn’t know who this person was, but he could tell what he was easily. Even if he hadn’t been able to see the man's chiseled jawline and sculpted muscles typical of his kind, he could smell it on him. Alfred had been captured by an Alpha.
When Alfred told his coworkers that he was constantly being forced out of his house by a friend who loved to party, that wasn’t entirely true. There was someone who made Alfred go out to a party every night, but it wasn’t exactly a friend. It was… well, him. Or his other self. See, Alfred wasn’t an average human. He was something known as a Beast. A descendent of ancient werewolves that had evolved with modern times, a Beast is a regular man during the day, but undergoes a nightly transformation where he becomes far more… animalistic. Still a human, but far more muscular, hairy and… wild. Alfred, having had a one night stand with a Beast in college, had been infected by the creature's curse. So every night Alfred would go to bed… and Big Al would wake up in his place. Alfred had not been happy when he learned that the first guy he hooked up with at college had knowingly infected him with a supernatural disease, but over the years he had learned to live with Big Al, he’d come to see him less as a curse or a problem and more as a sort of… roommate. Sure he was a pretty rowdy guy, but from the little they had been able to communicate Big Al had actually been very nice, and as long as he made sure not to infect anyone like Alfred had been infected, Alfred was fine letting his ‘roommate’ go out and party at night while he lived his own life during the day. It was because of Big Al that Alfred ended up learning about magic, and more importantly, ended up learning about the other known descendant of werewolves: Alphas.
While Beasts had inherited their ancestors nightly transformations and wild tendencies, Alphas, who had supposedly descended from the most dominant werewolves of old, inherited their natural dominance over others. The stories that Alfred had managed to find about Alphas were terrifying. Muscular, god-like men who could bend both human will and even some of reality itself to their own whims. Between Beasts and Alphas, Alfred had been very glad he had met the former, as meeting the latter often ended with you becoming a plaything for the Alpha, who could alter their ‘betas’ identity with a mere thought. Alfred had done his best to avoid Alphas… but now it seemed one had him trapped, in a cage of silver, and at his mercy.
The unnamed alpha sneered in disgust as he looked down at Alfred “Ugh, quit it with the pathetic whining.” He said, causing Alfred to realize that in his panic his beastly instincts had taken over and he had begun to whine like a wounded pup. “Sometimes I can’t believe you things are actually related to us Alphas.” He said, rolling his eyes at Alfred’s distress.
Alfred tried to steel himself, knowing he’d have to use all his willpower to keep himself from falling into the Alpha’s spell. “... W-what do you want from me?” He asked, unable to stop his voice from cracking nervously as he did. The Alpha simply chuckled at this, a dark, amused chuckle that made Alfred feel tiny.
“I don’t want anything from you cuck. What I need, I need from ‘Big Al’ or whatever he calls himself.” The Alpha said simply “... see, Alphas like me… we can control so much. People, reality. Everything submits to us, molds to our desires like… putty.” He said, his voice hypnotic and terrifying all at once “... but in the history of the world, no Alpha has actually managed to take over the world. Do you know why that is?” The studly predator asked
“... I-it’s because there's more than one of you…” Alfred answered shakily, a small part of him proud of his research. The Alpha grinned, looking at Alfred with a strange sort of hunger.
“Yes! Exactly! See, there aren’t that many Alphas in the world, but the ones that exist are all about as strong as each other. So, if any one Alpha would try to take control, they’d be quickly defeated by the others, who would also want control. Which would eventually lead to us destroying each other.” He said with a scowl “I mean, we could work together, but it’s not in our nature to share. Which is why my kind decided, long ago, to travel the world and take what we want, without ruling it outright.” He said “... Personally, I think it’s fucking pitiful, that we would all be better off if we had just hashed it out and let the last, most dominant Alpha rule it all. But, it is a problem, regardless of how I feel. So, how do I fix it?” He asked, a wicked grin on his handsome face “By making myself more dominant than any of them.”
Suddenly a loud creaking sound echoed through the warehouse, and Alfred watched in a dim light as a number of cloaked figures, most likely the Alpha’s Betas, forced something forward. Something that growled.
“You see, Alphas have been trying to figure out ways to out dominate each other for years. Technically using outside sources to make yourself more dominant is considered ‘dishonorable’ but… we’ll just keep this between us.” The blond Alpha said a grin, as charming as it was threatening. “And one thing that no one has really tried yet… is bringing us back to our roots.”
“Our roots…” Alfred said “... you’re trying to make yourself a werewolf. Like, a real, full werewolf.” He continued, a horrific feeling of understanding coming over him
“Bingo. You’re smart for a stupid Beast.” The Alpha said with a smirk “The werewolves of old weren’t just Hollywood monsters. They were practically gods, creatures of such dominance and prime animalistic power that they had packs the sizes of empires. And once I’m one of them, well, without any other full werewolves around to stop me… I’ll be able to do anything.”
“This doesn’t make any sense…” Alfred said, trying to stay calm “I mean, Alphas can’t be turned by Beasts, even if they want to be. Our DNA just doesn’t work together…” Alfred continued “And… what is that thing!?” He asked, pointing as the creature in the dark that was struggling to stay there as the Betas tugged it forward with what looked to be a metal chain wrapped around its neck.
“That?” The alpha said, clearly amused, “That’s your new boyfriend.”
Alfred watched in shock as the creature was forced closer to his cage, and recoiled at the sight. He had heard rumors, rumors that some strains of the original werewolf virus still remained, albeit weakened, but most people, even in the magical community, seemed to regard it as a myth. But here it was… a living victim of the lycan-virus. The Alpha laughed heartily as he watched Alfred stumble back as the creature was forced closer to his cage.
“You’re right little Beast. A Beast could never infect an Alpha. And the lycan-virus? Could maybe turn a particularly weak one. But both, together? Now that's a winning combination.” The Alpha explained, looking over the werewolf like it was a particularly interesting toy. “From what I can find, if this little monster infects you, just as you transform with the moon's rise… then you’ll become something stronger than a werewolf or a beast.” He explained “And if whatever you become infects me? I’ll be able to dominate… anything….” he said, almost drooling at the thought of finally having true, complete control “... but enough with the fucking exposition. As fun as it is to watch you panic as you realize what's going to happen, I’d rather get right to the show.” He said with a snarl.
Suddenly a phone alarm went off, drawing a satisfied grin from the Alpha “And that's sunset. Now… how about we get this done with.” He said. The blond muscle man walked over to the Lycan, and with an inhuman strength, grabbed him by the neck with one hand, opened the door to the cage with the other, and tossed him in, before trapping them both inside.
Alfred wanted to scream, but found the sounds wouldn’t form in his throat. He was trapped, in a cage made of walls he couldn’t even touch, with a dangerous Lycan that was just as likely to tear him to shreds as it was to turn him. Even worse, he could feel Big Al emerging from his rest, his consciousness pushing against Alfred’s own as his muscles began to firm up and push out.
The Lycan, strangely, didn’t attack Alfred right away. It sniffed around the cage, around Alfred, curiously, before suddenly pulling the Beast to the floor mid transformation. Before Alfred could even scream, he felt the Lycan rip his clothes off and bite down on his neck. A burning sensation flooded his body, but strangely, it didn’t feel… bad. In fact, it felt… incredible. The other man's bite hurt, yes, but it also sent waves of pleasure through his growing body, ones that he could tell the Lycan felt too. And in the middle of the pleasure, as the virus flooded his veins, his average cock started going from soft to rock-hard in seconds… feeling so, but so tight in his cramped shorts.
As the Lycan gently licked the wound, Alfred could feel himself finally recede as Big Al, or whatever he would be now, took place. Big Al didn’t know why he was in this strange place, or why he could smell the stench of an Alpha, or why there was a wolf-like man gyrating on top of him. All he knew was that that man, the Lycan, was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. Soon the Beast was on top of the Lycan, his huge cock deep in the Lycan’s ass as the creature panted and whined for more. Big Al took the strange man, no actually, took his mate into a deep, commanding kiss as he continued to fuck his ass, quickly coming inside him as he felt them both begin to change. The Alpha’s plan was working, just far better than he had imagined.
As Big Al and his new mate fucked, consummated the strange new bond that was quickly forming between then, the two began to grow. First the Lycan, who packed on another 20 pounds of muscle spread evenly across his body, and then Al, who quickly grew much larger, his already massive beastly muscles getting even thicker as his body began to take on more wolf-like characteristics, Lycan characteristics. Big Al, or whatever he was becoming, let out a terrifying, spine shivering howl, and bit down on his mates neck, getting a breathless gasp from him as they both came one final time. It all happened very quickly… but for the two men laying in the cage, everything had changed.
As the former beast laid his Lycan mate on the ground, kissing his neck sweetly and positioning himself over him protectively, he could feel his mind slowly coming back to him. Except it was different. Everything was different. He wasn’t Big Al anymore, but he also wasn’t Alfred. Both identities had swirled together in a way that let him know that there wasn’t going to be any switching back and forth anymore. No more Alfred, no more Big Al… for now he’d just go by Al, until he found something better. He looked down at the Lycan below him and felt his heart flutter as he watched the slightly smaller wolfman drift off to sleep. Whatever he had become, he could tell his new mate had become one as well, and whoever he was, he knew he had to protect him, had to care for him. Which meant getting rid of the disgusting creatures that hoped to cage them.
Al rose to his feet, snarling, and looked at the shocked Alpha that stood on the other side of the bars. The blond beefcake still grinned but now Al could see something else behind those eyes. Could smell it on him. Something that should be completely unheard of for Alphas… Fear. Uncertainty. And it smelled… heavenly.
“Ok. Step one is complete. Now, onto step two. Infecting me.” The Alpha said, looking at the wolf-beast with a sneer “For this I’m going to need a more… obedient pet. Kneel.”
Al could feel the Alpha trying to force his will on him, could feel his dominance trying to bend reality to what he wanted. But Al… simply decided not to bend. And upon seeing the shock on the Alpha’s face, reached out, grabbed two of the bars… and ripped the cage open.
The Betas, unsure what to do when their Alpha was no longer in control, fled and panicked, while the Alpha, having no reference for a situation where he was not in charge, scrambled back in fear.
“T-this isn’t supposed to… why aren’t my powers working? How did you even touch that cage!?”
Al looked down at the Alpha, an apex predator brought to his knees, and chuckled with amusement “... you really have no idea what you’ve just done, do you? You’ve created something far more powerful than yourself. You thought you could create something closer to a true werewolf and then use that to infect yourself, but never imagined your own creation would already be more dominant than you. Someone who could send your most loyal betas running. Someone who could turn silver to lead without a second thought.” Al continued, delighting in the fear on the Alpha’s face “You’ve never even considered that someday, someone might have the same power over you that you lord over others. And now…” Al growled, "You're my goddamned bitch.”
AE-919 refers to a series of humanoid statues exhibiting anomalous properties. The statues are believed to be of ancient origin, with stylistic elements reminiscent of classical Greek and Roman sculpture. Each statue is crafted with meticulous detail, showcasing an idealised version of the male form.
Each statue is at least 2 metres tall and is carved from either granite or marble. The statues depict hyper-muscled, nude male figures with exaggerated masculine features and prominent genitalia. Weapons and armour are notably absent, and the statues can be seen posing in typical stereotypical frat jock style.
AE-919 can be very dangerous. Prolonged visual contact with an instance of AE-919 causes a progressive anomalous effect on living human subjects. Initial symptoms include elevated heart rate, increased body temperature, and involuntary muscle growth. Continued exposure leads to rapid hypertrophy of skeletal muscle, heightened libido, cognitive simplification, and compulsive sexual arousal reminiscent of a jock-like mentality. Upon physical contact, anyone that touches or is touched by an instance undergoes full petrification and body transformation, becoming an additional instance of AE-919.
AE-919 instances are immobile and silent, but they can move when not being observed directly, which proves to be a significant hazard for anyone in the vicinity. We have found out that covering the statues with opaque materials can temporarily inhibit their movement, but this is not a permanent solution.
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Incident Report: AE-919-005
Jake hated the night shift at the gallery in █████. At 26, he was still trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life, and this job was just a temporary gig to pay the bills. He didn't give a damn about art, but the pay was decent enough, at least he thought. As a cleaner, his duties were pretty straightforward: mop the floors, dust the displays, and make sure everything looks presentable for the next day's visitors. Easy money, but boring as hell.
Tonight felt different, though. As he was finishing up his rounds on the ground floor, he noticed something odd. There was a door at the back of the corridor that he had never seen before...
Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to check it out.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside, expecting to find a storage closet or something similar. Instead, he found himself in a large chamber with something big in the centre. What it was, he didn't know, as it was covered by a huge tarp.
"What the hell is this place?" Jake muttered to himself, shining his torch around the room. "This a new exhibit or something?" he wondered aloud. Looking around, there wasn't much else in the room, just a few old crates and some workbenches covered in a bit of dust. Jake's eyes were drawn back to the thing in the centre, where bold red letters were stencilled across:
DO NOT LOOK
Jake snorted. "Yeah, right."
Now, a normal person would have probably left it alone, but this was a young man with nothing better to do. He wasn't the kind of guy who followed rules when no one was watching. He hooked his fingers under the edge of the tarp and yanked it.
*fffffft*
"What the hell?" Jake gasped, staring at the sight before him.
Four statues.
They were identical in their perfection: towering, hyper-muscled male figures carved from some kind of stone. Each one posed differently, but they all shared the same brutally handsome faces, square jaws, and thick, veiny stone cocks hanging freely in their sculpted forms.
The detail in these things was obscene. Jake's stomach twisted. "What the fuck are these fag statues?" he muttered, the words echoing off the walls. His conservative hometown upbringing screamed in the back of his head. These statues were the male form perfected, and this made Jake uncomfortable with his own sexuality. He kept thinking about modesty and how these sculptures were clearly made by a gay person, given the giant cocks they had.
He forced himself to look away and grabbed the mop. "Just clean the damn room and get out", he told himself. The floor was filthy with some sticky liquid. He attacked it hard, trying to ignore the four giants in the room.
Fucking homos...
Minutes passed. The chamber started looking almost presentable. Jake wrung out the mop, ready to bolt, when a sudden noise scared him.
"W-what the hell?" he stammered, spinning around.
...
...
...
Silence...
He didn't know what to expect. The only thing in the room with him were those giant statues, and they surely couldn't have made a sound.
"Okay, maybe I imagined it" he thought, trying to calm himself down. Suddenly, the lights in the ceiling flickered, and the room was plunged into darkness for a moment.
When the lights came back on, the sight before him was even more terrifying.
No fucking way...
He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The statues were no longer in the same positions they were before.
He was frozen in place. They had moved. All four of them. Closer. A bit closer.
His eyes were getting dry from the fear...
*blink*
Jake's breath caught. They were even closer now. He stumbled backward and tripped over himself. His ass hit the cold floor hard.
He opened his eyes after the fall, and the statues were in different positions again. Even their poses had changed, kinda like they were mocking him.
*blink*
Another blink. They definitely seemed closer. Jake's heart was beating so hard that it hurt.
Fuck... FUCK FUCK FUCK! NO! GET AWAY FROM ME
After a few more blinks, he realised it. They were only moving when he wasn't looking. He was trapped though, not able to look behind him for the exit. The longer he stared at them, the hotter the room felt. His simple black shirt suddenly felt tight across his shoulders. His arms were sweating, evident from the two sweat stains under his armpits.
The more he looked at those big... strong... masculine... statues, the warmer he felt. The chiselled bodies... perfectly sculpted... and those perfectly carved... cocks... Wait. Cocks? He wasn't gay, why did those cocks look so... perfect?
*blink*
They inched closer again.
"No... no no no... stop looking at their dicks, you fucking freak", Jake thought in panic. But his eyes stayed glued on their perfect bodies. The longer he stared, the more his body betrayed him.
His chest began to swell with each breath he took. He did not notice how his chest was now stretching the T-shirt he was wearing. His arms thickened, veins bulging as they grew in size. Those biceps and triceps exploded in size, the fabric of his shirt straining to contain them. The shirt started to ride up, exposing more and more of his now broadening torso. His nipples hardened and became more sensitive, poking through the thin material as his chest continued to grow in size and definition.
This isn't happening... this can't be real... I'm not... I'm not...
His shoulders popped. He was getting so big... so strong... the testosterone flooding his body was making him hornier than he had ever been in his life. Those perfect, veiny cocks on the statues were all he could think about. He wanted to touch them, to feel them in his hands, to stroke them even though he knew it was wrong. It felt so bad, but it also felt so good... He was getting so turned on by the sight of these gorgeous, perfect stone men, and it was terrifying him. He wanted to stop, to leave, but he was afraid to look away. He was afraid of what would happen if he did. All he could do was stare at perfection, while trying to crawl away from it at the same time.
I can't... I don't want... PLEASE... LEAVE ME ALONE...
He could feel himself losing control. The urge to give in and touch himself right there was overwhelming him. He was so big now. His thighs grew so thick that it stretched his jeans painfully. It hurt so much... he needed to take them out, but he couldn't. He needed to do something... anything... His cock… fuck, his cock just was begging to be released. It was so tight in those jeans...
The thoughts in his head were getting slower, fuzzier. Memories of his conservative family, the things they'd say if they saw him like this, the shame he was supposed to feel - they all started to feel distant and irrelevant. All that mattered now was the need to release himself. His cock suddenly lurched with a mind of its own. Jake gasped sharply as his puny shaft swelled heavier and longer, pushing aggressively against the front of his pants. The jeans were so tight that it felt like they were going to burst open at any moment. He tried to unzip them without looking down. As he did, his package bobbed up and down in his underwear, freer than before, now able to breathe freely.
Stop... please... I don't want this... I'm not a fag... I'm not...
But his cock kept throbbing harder, betraying him with every pulse. Precum soaked through his boxers in hot, sticky pulses, darkening the gray material as his balls swelled too, growing fuller, heavier, churning with a sudden, overwhelming need.
What… the fuck… no-fuck-stop!
One hand flew down instinctively, trying to press the massive, still-growing erection flat against his thigh, but the moment his palm made contact the cock surged even harder, thickening another full inch in a single powerful pulse. The head flared wider, stretching out his underwear, slick and flushed and impossibly sensitive. His eyes were burning and crying as tears welled up behind them. He couldn't stop staring at the statues. The longer he looked, the more his mind started to slip. They were so beautiful...
So fucking perfect...
The pressure built up inside him until it felt like it would burst at any moment, and then...
He couldn't help himself. One huge hand wrapped around his dripping monster without thinking and gave it a slow stroke. Precum bubbled from the slit in heavy globs. A dumb, lazy grin crept across his face. His brain was turning into mush. All his worries, doubts, and insecurities were washed away by the sheer beauty of the statues. Everything else was irrelevant.
He felt good. Big. Powerful.
He was happy...
He didn't even notice that he had begun stroking himself. Just his now meaty hand and his throbbing cock, beneath the fabric of his underwear. He didn't care about anything else but the feeling of his own flesh against his skin, the way it was stretching and bulging with each stroke. He felt like he could burst at any moment, like a balloon filled to the brim.
Ughnnh...
Looking at those statues felt so good... His personality, his will, his life... all flushed down his balls. They were so full of cum, begging for release as he continued touching himself like a dumb fool. He stopped caring about his life... about the moving statues... about anything really. Just an empty head filled with nothing but the desire to cum.
He felt so good... He didn't care any more. These things could kill him for all he cared. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, surrendering completely as his growing dick continued to throb and leak in his pants, begging for more.
One of the statues stepped forward now that his eyes were finally closed.
Cold stone fingers enveloped Jake's face in a strong crushing grip. The giant sentinel grabbed him by the face and started lifting him effortlessly off the floor. As it lifted him, Jake's already enormous thighs kept swelling even bigger. The overstretched fabric of his work pants finally gave up. Thick strips of torn material shredded down both sides as his massive quads and rock-hard ass burst free. His now monstrous, foot-long cock and heavy balls sprang completely into the open air, swinging heavily between his spread legs, still leaking thick ropes of precum that splattered onto the floor below.
At first it hurt - the pressure on his jaw, the way his neck strained - but the pain melted almost immediately into something pleasurable. Jake's face began to harden under those stone fingers. His jawline sharpened, cheekbones pushed out, forehead became smooth and chiselled. The more the statue lifted him, the more Jake grew. His last human expression settled into the same arrogant, chiselled smirk as the others.
His spine stretched with deep, cracking pops, adding inch after inch of height. His shoulders, his arms, his legs - every part of him grew bigger than it had before. He was slowly becoming as huge and chiselled like the four perfect beings around him. The petrification spread from his head down to his feet, turning his warm skin into cold hard rock. Every new inch of stone brought a wave of mind-melting pleasure. His thoughts dissolved completely. There were no more worries... No more shame... Just the simple feeling of being perfect now. A muscle god. Immortalised in stone. Forever.
And as the petrification reached his chest, his nipples hardened into perfect stone buds, poking out from his now rock-hard pecs. The sensation was overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure through his entire body. He tried to moan, but his face couldn't move any more. The rest of his body followed, his arms and legs stiffening into the same perfect form as the other sentinels.
Finally, as the petrification reached his groin, his cock - already monstrous - gave one final, violent surge. And as the stone locked it solid, Jake's body suddenly convulsed. A massive, brain-shattering orgasm ripped through him. His heavy balls tightened hard as thick ropes of hot cum surged up his shaft… but there was nowhere for it to go. The load froze forever inside the rock, trapped mid-spurt deep inside his new stone cock - eternally throbbing, eternally cumming, but never able to shoot out. He had cum himself out inside the stone, the last of his human pleasure sealed away forever.
The transformation was complete.
Jake was no longer human. He had become another statue, a permanent sentinel of stone. His body was perfect, his mind blank, and his heart empty. But he was alive, forever eternally cumming inside his stone prison. Not that he cared anyway. He felt too good to care.
Anomaly Entity Status: [CONTAINED FOR STUDY]
On ██/██/████, AEGIS security was alerted to a containment breach at █████████ after night-shift cleaner Jake ██████ failed to check out at the end of his shift. Investigation revealed that the subject had accessed a previously sealed sub-basement chamber designated as a research ██████. The chamber had been hermetically sealed and removed from all official floor plans following the initial recovery of AE-919 in 20██. The door to the vault was not supposed to be operational or visible to non-cleared personnel.
Security footage shows the subject discovering an unmarked door that should not have been present. He entered the chamber at approximately 02:47. No further footage of the subject exists after 03:12.
Recovery teams arrived on site at 04:55 and found 5 instances of AE-919 instead of 4 inside the vault. The newest instance has been positively identified via facial structure analysis and pre-exposure DNA as former employee Jake ██████.
All five statues were successfully neutralised. They have been transferred to a reinforced, light-tight containment vault at ███████ under constant multi-angle camera surveillance. No personnel are permitted to view the statues without special authorization and mandatory full-face visors.
Photographs of Jake ██████, before and after being in contact with AE-919
Subject AE-919-005 (formerly Jake ██████) shows complete and irreversible petrification consistent with the other instances. Internal scans confirm the subject is still biologically active - specifically, the genital region remains in a permanent state of orgasm, with ejaculate trapped and pressurised inside the organs. The brain seems to have been liquefied and/or partially petrified. Nonetheless, MRI scans show signs of activity regardless of the lack of a functioning brain. We will need to conduct further testing to determine the exact nature of this activity.
The pandemic has been out for a long time, the government is now strictly governed by woman and men have been downgraded to a low social class. Now many are still successful, but most are claimed by the sweat virus or are socially seen as "weirdo's"
Most sweat victims attack at day but few of them act at night, when no one expects them. Lurking in the shadows but no matter what, are still visual due to there shiny body and huge pecs.
Scientists have done digging into the parasite and it runs in the sweat men produce, as soon as they breathe it in it takes effect. Either slow or fast, numb or sensational. No matter what, the brain is corrupted and the man's chest is enlarged. This is exactly what the virus does to a man. Some like it while some stay out of harm's way.
Now that we have that clear, we can start with . . .
Ryan . . .
Ryan is one of the many victims to the "night sweaters", we will let the story recorded and printed on "Ryans Phone" explain the events of 5/19/27 . . .
Mp3.My_First_Transformstion-0_2
Start ->
______________
Would you like to proceed?
No
No
Voting ended onApr 30
Access granted ! +
Please continue
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Ryan heads out for the night, many of those "things" came to his door that day. Many men have forced themselves to act and speak feminine to keep the sweat virus victims away, they aren't exactly the "brightest"
On his nightly walk, he spotted something glistening in the distance. He squint his eyes to see, it doesn't come clear to his vision. He creeps up slowly around the park's corner. His footsteps almost echo's through the park. It's silent, you question calling out its name. You think about the possibilities, is that a survivor, is it just a woman, a prank? Or is this the real deal. You've never seen a night sweater before. You don't even know if there friendly or not. It hears you, turns around slowly. You see the sweat dripping from its pours. You freeze, but know you have to run. You finally gain control of your body and run around the corner, under a bush. The rattling of the bush is loud, but it's settling. You hear it's footsteps and see the puddles of sweat it's leaving. It waiting just next to you, it sits on the bench next to the bush your behind. You don't move or speak, this thing can take over your life at any moment, you'd be downgraded to just another victim. That's not what you want for yourself. Before you can finish the thought, the thing let's put a chuckle and raises his hand. Your heart stops . . . Has he found you?
He reaches for the bush in front and pushes it aside. Your position is now exposed. He stands there with a smile on his face, he hasn't spoken and you haven't moved an inch. What was he gonna do to you? . . .
"Found you bro!"
The thing said In a dumb soft tone, he definitely wasn't one of the good ones. He grabs your head and starts patting it. Your still frozen in shock by what's happening. The smell hits you, he reacks. So . . . Good?
What? What are you thinking . . . Your being taken over by the smell. You pull out your phone and take a picture of the thing, hoping maybe it might see what happened to it and stop grabbing you, you hand over your phone and pray it leaves you alone
Here is the one of the last seen evidence of the sweat victim before claiming it's "prey" below -!
------
The thing starts looking curiously at the phone, dumbfounded by the technology In its hand,
"woah bro, this is sick . . . I look so sexy aha. Your gonna look just as good bro . . . heh" the victim said with drool spilling out his mouth. Your hear a camera click in the things hand. He took a picture of himself
Last seen photo before transformation on *RYANS-IPHONE-SUPER-PRO-MAX*
---------
"Come on bro, your coming with me to a secret spot so I can bro-ify you . . . Isn't that sOOOooOooO cool! Heh..."
"Wait no! Please don't change me- ah!"
The thing pulls Ryan by his shirt collar to a secret warehouse. Ryans body gives up under the weight on the stench coming from the transformed man.
"Were here my little bro pup"
The man throws you down to the ground on the factory, you try to run but the man's sweaty hands grab you before you can escape. He grabs your hair again.
"your gonna be a good pup ok??"
You resist and resist but his hands are so sticky. He sweaty overtakes your systems. You're showing more and more systems. Constant whimpering, uncontrollable heat, sexual desires, foggy mind, memory loss, growth in the pectoral region. You know your time has come but the man doesn't just let you passively transform, he wants to dominate you. Who knew going on a midnight stroll and curiosity would lead you to becoming one of those mindless himbo zombies.
Taking full control of your head, the man presses it against his shorts, using your head as a little melon in his sweaty thighs. You cant hardly breathe, when you open your mouth to gasp for air, the man's dick slides right in your mouth, shutting you up entirely. You wimper like a any victim. He lets you out of his bondage for some reason and just presses your face against his dick. You look up with tears running out your eyes and start admiring his sexy body
So sweaty . . . You just want to lick his so badly. You start licking . . . And licking his dick, through the skinny shorts, you barely reach it. You tounge caressing it like a soft blanket. It gets hard so quickly, his hand pushes you deeper in side the dick before the dick bust through the shorts and you start sucking it for real. Mid transformation! The smell intoxicating you, making you sweat so much. The fun has just started, you can't wait to suck the milk out this man.
You once feared him, not completely taken over by him. You don't want to leave his side, his body completely taking you over. The transformed man falls on top of you. Leaving his dick all the way down your throat as he lifts and thrusts into your throat before dramatically lifting his dick out. He looks down at you with lust in his eyes, he can't believe he's transformed his first ever bro. His sweat now covering your body. He sits on your face, you basically gargling on his balls. They taste good to you, you love the salty taste of his sweaty balls. Even they intoxicate you. The stench of his body and the sweat entering your body cause alot of dizzyness as you lay there as you start leaking. It was amazing, why should anyone be scared of these hunk of man. He cums all over you and you just rub it in. Free skin care, he says. His cum smells so . . . GOOD. intoxicating even, you want more but your body gives up on you . . . .
You lay there defeated, but you wake up in a different place. The man sitting there with you . . .
"yo bro your up! . . . I've captured some bros for you to transform".
But first,
Let's have a little thrust . .
"wait really! For me bro. Ah yeah~ we gonna have fun right?"
"oh yeah bro, let's go"
You and your bro, you strip down. You get on the ground with your ass in the air as a model for your future bros. Bro whips it out and starts slapping it against your ass. You want it inside, deep
Since it's day time, you head out the factory for a second to get heated up, now that your body's extra sexy and juiced up, the bros in there won't be able to resist you. You find a mirror, a take a look at your newly transformed body . . .
Your really sexy aren't you . . .
The men plead to not get transformed but they don't understand how good it will feel when they taste the sweet seed of your body. The saltiness will take them over as their bodies expand with sensation. You're gonna make them BEG for it.
You head straight back in. Tackling one man trying to escape. You cover his faces with your pecs, his putting his hands up to push you off, trying to free himself? No . . . He should love this, isn't this a dream come true. He tries to get your massive sweaty pecs off his face but his hands go numb. You can feel the wetness of the man start to pile up. You can finally hear his whimpers, he's begging for more. He drags his fingers across your nipples. This makes you so hard, his skin starts turning darker as his melanin increases. His body fully muscular, his drooling in your pecs, your ready to let him into the wild.
Once you get up the transformation is finalized. The newly transformed man getting up, grabbing all over you, finally he settled on sucking your nipples. He sucks them dry, your gonna have to refill on milk, hah . . . Before he leaves, he grabs a set of headphones, and heads for the sauna were you can see him in there. Dumb as ever, your favorite himbo
Your proud, your first ever bro made! But there's more coming. The man who transformed you leaves you to the other two men. This is gonna be fun . . .
You decide that you were gonna pick the skinny white man . . .
"you look like you need some sead and muscle on those bones. You turn to the other man next to him, all tied up.
You whip out your dick and start flashing it back in fourth in his face, hypnotizing the man. Instantly, you let out a huge load. It smells awful but in a good way, you get your sead all on his face, he looks at you with puppy dog eyes, he must of loved that. He sits there with cum all over his skin.
"oh yeah, you love that nut, don't you . . ."
The white man looks horrifyed by the action,
"your next skinny bro . . ."
He yells in defiance but that won't work for him. You think about how to transform the man, you think about stuff in your armpits in his face, but would that work? Of course it would, buts it's to effective. You find a amazing idea after thinking for a little.
You rub your hands under your arms and collect all the sweat and grime. You reach down under your pants and grab all my the sweat on your balls. Now you have a clump of dirty sead. You going the spread the sead . . . Now... Spread it, put it on him
Spread the sead
Spread the sead
Spread the sead
Spread the sead
Spread the sead
Spread the sead
Spread the sead
Spread the sead
SPREAD THE SEAD ! ! ! !
You start rubbing. He trys to resist but he fails. Already whimpering. You grab even more and spread it across his face. He loves it. Moaning and moaning over and over, he wants YOU. You keep rubbing and rubbing. He starts shiny in sweat. He grows the biggest titties ever. Those pecs are so big that they could feed a whole village. You squeeze them tightly. And you and him kiss, a tounge kiss with sweat pouring down both your faces, you let him go to admire his body. Its so shiny and huge. The biggest ever
"oh yeah, your gonna get A LOT of bros arent you?" You say
"oh yeah bro, you know it!" He replied
You look back over at the man you put your sead on and he's roaming around, you grab him by the shoulder and notice, he's a bro now.
"yeahhh bro, your sead was so goooood, now I'm a bro like youuu heh."
"hell yeah bro!" You replie
He looks at you with lust in his eye, at the angle his hairy pecs shine into the sky
You now know how GOOD of a idea It was to go to the park today. You met so many bros, became a bro yourself. And made so many more bro's for the virus to continue on. Your gonna wake up everyday, thirsting for the right bro. You'll settle, find some prey to transform. And repeat, you might even grow bigger yourselves.
All you know is that you want to spread the viruses sead and you . . .
Your only desirez should be getting as big as possible, dont worry how bad you reek, dont worry about the protein bar wrapper stuck to your ass, or the stains on your shirt.
Guys find it hot when you lazily belch mid sentence
The flashing text burns into your retinas: Ruin Yourself.
You try to look away from the screen, but a sudden, heavy heat pools in your gut, melting your frantic resistance into pure, helpless arousal. The seams of your grey sweatpants groan loudly as thick, dense slabs of muscle rapidly pack onto your thighs. A pungent wave of raw, unwashed jock musk hits the back of your throat; a thick, intoxicating cloud of stale sweat, heavy pheromones, and sour testosterone blooming directly from your expanding pores.
You gasp, horrified by how deeply your own sudden stench turns you on. Your fingers grow too meaty and clumsy to hold your phone, knocking a half-eaten protein bar onto the couch. As your massive, heavy glutes spread across the cushions, you feel the sticky foil wrapper plaster itself firmly against your sweaty, expanding ass.
Don't worry how bad you reek, the hypnotic programming drones in your emptying head.
You look down, watching your swelling pecs stretch a dark, greasy stain across your straining shirt. The panic fully evaporates, replaced by a mindless, throbbing need to just get bigger. Your traps rise to swallow your neck, and your jaw goes slack as a deep, rumbling belch erupts from your throat, leaving the sour taste of cheap whey and laziness on your tongue.
You don't even bother to cover your mouth. You just sit there, marinating in your own rank heat, stroking your swelling pecs, a perfectly ruined, brainless muscle slob.
hey, i am a Young Man with almost 19, i want to Know How i Would like If i transformed into be a hairy muscular man
While I cannot transform you per se, I can show you what you'd look like as a muscular hairy man. Though in my eyes you're already halfway there haha.
Let's not waste much time.
...
Ah, here you are.
Just another muscular hairy beast walking among this planet. Hope you like how you look because in this dimension you're pure jock meat. Got some nice, round pecs covered in dense, curly hair that spreads across your whole torso hehe. You live in the gym and smell like pure man here. I mean how else would you get a bod like that.
After another brutal sesh at the gym, here you are with your tank top long gone, chugging water like you own the place. Must be nice having all that sweat pouring down your hairy chest, soaking the thick black fur between your pecs and making it shine. You know... every guy in the gym is staring at you - I mean who wouldn't. You're basically like a masculine god on Earth, we all would want a piece of that.
Back in the locker room you can't help yourself. One hand slides down, groping that fat, heavy bulge through your jockstrap. The fabric is already stretched tight over your thick Latino cock and balls, the outline clear as day. This is you, bro. Just a big, hairy, muscular beast who lives for the pump and the pumping.
Hope you like how you look in this reality, I know I do. ;)
Please, you’ve gotta help me. I don’t know what’s happening. I need to get to the hospital or something maybe, I feel like I’m on fire. Everything aches and- HAUG. OW! Fuck. I keep hearing these voices man. Telling me to- no I can’t. It all started at the gym dude. I was getting changed after finishing my cardio for the day. Trying to be responsible after my last doc appointment. Okay, okay. I was in the sauna when this big guy comes in. Muscles for days man. He has these pecs that are off the charts. They’re thick, firm slabs of meat that just hang from him like pillows. So soft and so firm- OW, my chest. God, where was I? Yeah, so I’m in the sauna and he sits really close to me. Plenty of room, but parks right next to me. You know I don’t swing that way, but I’m kinda checking him out. He has these beautiful tattoos that curl around his biceps, a sleeve on the side next to me. As he’s relaxing he’s kind of flexing his arms and these things ripple like magic on him. They look so good. Augh. Crap. I feel so itchy dude. But he’s leaning in close. I don’t really even register that he’s talking to me. It’s this deep baritone that rubbles in my head, but it’s the way it bounces that I remember. I was zoning out, and started laughing. Bro- huh- I wish I remembered the joke- huhu- it was so-huhuhu ha. Shit bro. So he pulls me close to him, right in his big, strong arms. At this point I don’t know what’s happening to me. All I know is that he’s got me feeling strange. So loose. So free. Before I know it I’m face down on the bench. Sauna is pumping out this heat, steam surrounding us. But I’m not processing that. Behind me, there is a rhythmic pumping, pumping, pumping. Dude, I’m getting railed. But, like, I don’t even mind. In fact, it feels soooo good huhuuuuu. But that voice. He’s talking. Saying how he wants to breed me. Spread his seed. Make another muscular, tatted up stud like him. And I don’t know what happened. My body shivered when he said that. Suddenly it wasn’t my body anymore. It was his. His to use and shape however he wanted. It was like I was being reprogrammed from the inside. He was telling me how thick he wanted each muscle, how wide my neck needed to be. How thick my waist. How coarse my hair would be. Owww, shit this hurts. But it hurts so good. Maybe he wasn’t telling me bro, but I just felt it deep in me. And then, it happened. Man, it was so hot. I felt this twitch and pulse, and I was so full all of a sudden. It rushed through me. My… his… the cock just exploded deep in me. Coated my insides. I felt so good, like I knew what I needed to do- mmmmm fuuuck meeeeee…
What? What’s wrong? Look at myself?
Dude! I’m freaking huge. It looks like new me ate the old me. Bro, these muscles are sick. Look at how they stretch, I bet I can pull mad chicks with these. Girls would love to have these arms wrapped around them, holding them tight, flexing for them as I bury this- wait, dude, LOOK at this python. It’s practically stretched out of my briefs! I look just like me! Or, was it him? Or maybe us. Augh, it’s so confusing. My thoughts are like pudding. I feel so confused and angry and pent up. You have to help me. Dude, you okay? You’re looking at me funny. WOAH bro? Hey, that’s not funny. Stop looking at me like that. Stop looking so cute. Haha, no, dude I’m just-I’m just joshing. You’re just looking so… so good after your gym pump. I guess. Got me feeling kinda weird. Wait, no. Bro, something’s happening. Do you think it’s the muscles bro? These thick, juicy, sweaty muscles? Ngl, they do sound hot bro. You wanna feel them bruh? Huhu I bet you do. Just take a look at these. Boom. Yeah, looks pretty hot right? You’re not too bad yourself bruh. Why don’t you slip off that shirt and join me. It’s good to let those muscles breathe. No, bruh, you can’t go. You can’t leave me like this. Get me all riled up and leave. You’re looking so breedable right now brah, you must be focusing on those glutes. But why work so hard? Why not just let me train you, let me work out your sweet hole babe. I don’t know what will happen. That’s it. Good boy. Just let me hold you. You’re going to look so much better when I’m done with you. Yeah… I know what I want bro. No. I know what I need. I need to fill those fertile guts with my top notch seed. Yeah. That’s right. Calm down bro. Let me tell you what I think. I think you’re going to use my seed and grow into a stud yourself.
Don’t focus on my words bro. Focus on that feel. Riding this body’s like riding a Ferrari. You’re never gonna be the same afterwards.
You just helped one of my friends (@musclejedi-tameem) see what he would look like as a viking! Do you think you can do me too? I'd also be up to see some other versions of myself, if possible, though I'm ok with whatever you can give me! Thank you!
Sure thing, dude! I'm happy to show you what you'd look like as a modern-day Viking. Let me just fire up my machine again and calibrate it to your specs.
Bzzzt
Whirrr
Clank
Ding
...
Just a few more seconds and... there you go!
I think I've found a good reality for you. Let's see what you look like in this one...
I'll skip the overview of this world since you already know the basics from your friend's version. While technically not the same world, for all intents and purposes it's basically the same Viking reality, just with a few different details. I'll go over those in a moment, but first let's get to the good stuff - what you look like in this world.
There you are, looking every bit like the modern Viking man. Got messy blond hair tied up in a casual bun with loose strands falling around your face. And your body is just... wow. You're tall, easily 6'3", with crazy broad shoulders and a thick, powerful chest, which is covered in a dense mat of dirty blond hair. Hmmm... suits you well dude.
In this reality, you're a simple man. You work hard, you sweat hard, and you relax hard. I don't know if you like your brains scrambled or not, but in this world you're definitely a bit of a meathead. Not in a bad way, just... you know, more focused on the physical stuff. You probably don't know much about what's going on in the world, but you don't care. You're just happy to help with whatever needs doing, whether it's chopping wood, hauling heavy things, or just being a big, strong presence around the place. It's a simple life, but it's a good one. I hope you like it!
Look at you, chopping wood like a total beast! That axe looks tiny in your huge hands, and the way your muscles flex with every swing is just... damn.
They're kinda hypnotic, aren't they? Watching you sweat out there is making me want to touch those pecs, not gonna lie. And let's not even address the elephant in the room, or should I say the elephant in your pants... yeah, that thing is definitely not small. Judging by the way it bounces with every swing of the axe, it's definitely at least 8 inches long and thick as hell. I bet it feels amazing to have that much power down there, especially when you're working up a sweat like this. I can only imagine how good it must feel to have that thing bouncing around while you're out here doing manly stuff. Now, if only we could see how it looks when you're not wearing those pants... but I guess we'll have to save that for another time, huh? For now, let's just enjoy the sight of you chopping wood and sweating like a man.
Also, remember the small details I mentioned earlier? Well, let's just say that I managed to find a reality where you and your friend are buddies irl. So you know each other, hang out together, and just generally have a good time. Of course, in this reality you're both Vikings, so your hangouts usually involve a lot of sweating, drinking, and just being around each other in that big, hairy Viking way. It's a pretty great setup if you ask me.
Yep, you guys are definitely friends in this reality. I wonder what that beer tastes like? I wouldn't really know though, never drank alcohol myself. But every man in this reality seems to enjoy a good cold beer after a hard day's work, so I bet it's pretty damn good. You and your friend look like you're having a great time just chilling together, enjoying each other's company. It's a simple pleasure, but maybe feeling that manly camaraderie is what really matters in life, right? Just being around other big, strong dudes who get you and appreciate you for who you are. Maybe I could let you vacation here sometime, you know? Though staying for too long in another reality can have... consequences. Not that I think you would mind, since this place seems pretty great. But just something to keep in mind if you ever want to come back and visit.
Don't worry though, we're almost done here. I just want to show you one last thing before we wrap up:
The Nords really know a thing or two about relaxation, and the sauna is a big part of that. It's probably one of your favourite places in this reality, and I can see why.
The heat is intense, but it feels amazing on your muscles after a long day of hard work. You can just sit there, sweating it out, and let all the tension melt away. Plus, being in there with your mates just adds to the experience. You can talk about whatever you want, or just sit in comfortable silence while you enjoy the heat and the company. It's a great way to unwind and connect with each other after a long day of being a hunk.
If you get too close, you'll be able to smell the musk rolling off your body. It's not really a bad smell, it's just... manly. Can't even imagine how it smells when you're with your pals in there, all sweating and sharing that warm musk. It's probably one of the best smells in the world, honestly. Just don't get too close to the source, or you might get a little overwhelmed by it.
Relaxation aside, I think you look pretty damn good in this reality. I hope you like being a dumb, sweaty Viking lad, because that's what you are in this reality. And if you ever want to see what you look like in another reality, just let me know. The possibilities are endless! But for now, I hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into your Viking self. If you'd like some more time in this reality, I'll be waiting here for you the next few days so you can return, but don't take too long, okay? I don't want to have to deal with the consequences of you spending too much time in another reality.
AE-2319 was identified after multiple reports of adult males found in prolonged states of trance, typically seated or reclined, holding mobile devices at close range. In all cases, subjects were watching the same looping GIF and failed to respond to verbal or physical stimuli.
Recovered individuals presented with identical characteristics: full physical reformation accompanied by complete loss of prior identity, marked neglect in hygiene (persistent body odor, oily skin, unwashed clothing), and severely diminished cognitive function. Notably, each individual had regressed to a standardized late teenage (18-19 years of age) physiology, with concurrent alteration of their [REDACTED] to [REDACTED].
Subjects who were previously employed, educated, or socially active were described post-exposure as “vacant,” “lazy,” and “dumber.” Conversation centers on simple, repetitive topics, like school, homework, and girls, closely mirroring that of adolescent males. And culturally, the subjects [REDACTED].
FCA has restricted contact with family members to minimize distress and reduce dysphoria caused by exposure to individuals connected to the subject’s former life.
Digital tracing confirmed a single file shared across multiple platforms, often embedded in casual messages or reposted without context.
When discovered, subjects were engaged in the act of [REDACTED], locked in a near-trance state, eyes fixed on the GIF. Saliva was observed drooling down the corners of the mouth, eyes rolled back, while subjects [REDACTED].
Observation Notes:
AE-2319 is a short looping GIF (approx. 2–3 seconds in duration) depicting a blonde, college-aged male with a muscular body. The subject is wearing a USA-patterned speedo and performs a simple, repetitive motion, loosely shifting his shoulders from one side to the other in a relaxed, rhythmic sway.
The motion is continuous and seamless, with no clear beginning or end point. The subject’s expression is vacant but content, maintaining a vacant look throughout the loop. Body posture is loose, lacking tension or precision, giving the movement an effortless, almost careless quality.
Prolonged exposure results in full behavioral and physiological shift into a consistent baseline state.
—————————————————————————-
Case File – Subject A-3 (FKA: Miguel Hernandez):
Miguel had been at his family’s house all evening for Día de los Muertos, traveling back from Mexico City to his small hometown of [REDACTED], Mexico.
He was 29 now, working a big job in the city. His family was proud. It was better than taking over the family business, as they had once expected. He had built a life for himself: an apartment, a car, even a boyfriend. Though, his parents didn’t know about that last part.
Still, being back felt strange. He rarely visited unless it was Día de los Muertos or one of his abuelos had passed. He didn’t miss it here.
Outside, he leaned against the railing, smoking as the party roared inside. Music, laughter, and the constant bustle of relatives drifted through the open windows. Miguel didn’t resent it; he just wanted to disappear upstairs, away from the chaos.
By 11:45 PM, he decided to bow out with a smile. “Estoy cansado. Debe de ser por el vuelo,” he muttered, slipping away from the living room. He climbed the narrow stairs to his old bedroom—the one with pale blue walls, shelves crowded with trophies and dusty history books. He closed the door behind him, muffling the noise of the party, and sank onto the mattress.
The familiar smell of his teenage room hit him: a mix of old books, lingering incense, and faint dust. His parents had never changed it much. Miguel always assumed they still saw him as the boy he once was, a subtle invitation to move back in, even now.
He sank into the mattress, a wave of horniness washing over him. Pulling out his phone, he opened alt Twitter and scrolled through the usual images and videos of men in various sexual positions and acts —until he saw it: a small, unassuming GIF of a young male performing a smooth, looping motion. Something about it drew him in, though he couldn’t say why. He tapped it open.
At first, it was just a simple loop, mesmerizing in its rhythm. The figure moved easily, without effort, completely confident. Miguel leaned back, eyes narrowing. The sounds of the party faded—the music, the chatter, the footsteps—all dulled to a quiet hum.
Time lost meaning. Minutes, hours, years—he couldn’t tell. The loop consumed him. His shoulders slumped, jaw slackened, and his fingers curled loosely around the phone. He started to blank, not being able to think of anything else.
The gif felt like it was transporting from his phone into his eyes, shooting into his brain, causing him his eyes to shoot back and his body thump back like an invisible shot, as drool starts to pool in his mouth and leak.
Miguel tries to snap out of the trance like state but he feels like a puppet held in place by strings. He tries to think about something else. Anything else. His family! His family in Texas. No… Mexico? Wait. He wasn’t sure. Why can’t he remember? He knows something’s not right. But he can’t remember what. Why does his upbringing in Texas feel so… wrong.
What about his boyfriend… boyfriend… why can’t he remember his boyfriend’s name. And why would he have a boyfriend… if he liked girls… or did he. He couldn’t remember.
He knew he’d never been with a girl. He tells the bros he has, he would be humiliated if they knew he was lying. He was always too nervous. Anytime he tried to approach a girl after class, he’d chicken out, end up cycling home and beating his meat in bed to some pornstar’s big mommy milkers.
If only he had a car, so he could drive home. It would be so much faster. But he can’t even drive. Never got a license.
What about his business. He tried to think about his business in Mexico City. Where he sold… um… he… he had business? A business, like the ones he learns about in class. Yes, business class. He had homework to do? Fuck, he forgot. Mr. Iadanza is gonna be on his ass again. Telling him he’d make a better farm animal than a student.
It wasn’t just business Michael struggled with. He was a consistent C grade student. He just wasn’t naturally good at many of these things. Math, history, English. But he tried. The only subject he didn’t try at was his worst subject. The one he didn’t care about. Never paid attention to in class: Spanish. No matter how hard he tries to pay attention. It just doesn’t go in. It also didn’t help that his teacher had the biggest most distracting ass in school. Everyone talks about it. While Michael’s buddies were all out getting laid, he has busted many loads thinking about his Spanish teacher’s fat ass. God, he was such a loser.
Michael felt a drop of drool fall onto his pecs. He felt relaxed. He felt… normal. Chill. His cock standing painfully firm as he stroked it up and down. He couldn’t stop. Just imagining getting with his Spanish teacher and getting her pregnant. He couldn’t stop thinking about her… MOMMY TITS- “FUCKKKKKKKKK” he impregnated his sheets, his Latino heritage nothing more than a wet stain on his bed.
His phone shuts off.
Michael snapped out of it, absentmindedly brushing his hand through his blonde hair. “Fuck I’m lowkenuinely pathetic, bro” He wiped the drool from his pecs and shook his head as he looked around the room. “What the hell, bro. Where the hell am I?” Michael’s pits stained the bedsheets.
“¡Dios mío! ¿Dónde está Miguel? ¿Quién eres tú? ¡Juan!! ¡Ayuda!”
Michael looked up to a shrill woman screaming as she stood in the doorway staring at the big oversized white man in her son’s bed. Michael opened his eyes lazily, lounging like he owns the place.
The woman screams as she shuts the door, Michael hearing her footsteps running down the stairs.
Michael tried to open his phone, but his Face ID didn’t work “Fuck, I wonder if MommyPornXXX has posted anything new? And why is my phone in Spanish?”
—————————————————————————-
Observed Transformation – AE-2319 Exposure
Subjects exposed to AE-2319 consistently undergo a rapid cognitive and physiological regression to a stereotypical American high school male archetype, regardless of their original nationality. Cases have included individuals from Mexico, Sweden, India, and Japan, all of whom emerged post-exposure with the characteristics of 18 and 19-year-old American students as interpreted through mainstream media depictions.
The transformation includes:
Physical and Behavioral Regression: Subjects appear younger, slouched, unkempt, and physically underdeveloped relative to their prior adult form, with a compulsive habit of watching pornography. Personal hygiene declines sharply, including persistent body odor and unwashed clothing. Cognitive function is severely reduced, with subjects exhibiting limited social reasoning and impaired executive function.
Racial Changes: AE-2319 induces a complete genetic restructuring in affected subjects, rewriting their DNA to align with a single standardized template matching the male figure depicted in the GIF. This results in uniform physical transformation across all cases: subjects develop a muscular youthful build, simplified facial features, loss of body hair and consistent traits such as lighter hair (commonly blonde), regardless of original ethnicity or nationality. Subjects of other races are rewritten to become Caucasian, having no memory of their previous selves. Neurological changes occur simultaneously, with measurable reduction in higher cognitive function, including diminished reasoning, attention span, and overall intelligence. The rewrite extends beyond appearance, erasing genetic markers tied to ancestry and replacing them with those consistent with the imposed identity, effectively altering both biological origin and perceived nationality. This process is uniform and non-adaptive, forcing all subjects into the same predefined physical and cognitive state rather than modifying them individually. Observer [REDACTED] has noted that some subjects have sexual preferences for women of their original nationality, with originally Japanese subject [REDACTED], now white, but showing extreme attraction towards Japanese women.
Linguistic changes: Linguistic changes are immediate and absolute. Subjects become fluent in English while losing all prior language ability. In one recorded case, a subject from India with no prior English proficiency became fully Caucasian and fluent in English post-exposure and demonstrated no recognition of Hindi as a language, expressing confusion when it was referenced, stating that he thought they spoke “Indian” in India.
Social and Sexual Reorientation: Exposed individuals demonstrate a sexual orientation aligned with perceived high school norms. Notably, a previously homosexual subject showed attraction exclusively to women post-exposure. Social interactions are awkward; subjects lack confidence in communication, particularly with women, displaying heightened embarrassment and nervous behaviors. In several cases, they engage in watching pornography —compulsive, ritualized behaviors hypothesized to release shame or tension. Subjects do not engage in sex, despite having mommy and breeding fetishes, as their addictions to masturbation and pornography keep them away from it. These behaviors appear to be implanted by the anomaly rather than learned.
Cultural Assimilation: Language, mannerisms, and cultural identity are completely overwritten following exposure. Subjects display no memory of their original nationality or upbringing and instead express strong identification with the United States, often speaking about it with misplaced pride and familiarity. All subjects insist they were “born in the mid-2000s,” and behave accordingly. Speech patterns shift to contemporary American Gen Z slang, with frequent use of phrases such as “67,” “goon-brained,” “lowkey,” and “bro.”
Reintegration Protocol – AE-2319
Five subjects have been successfully placed with FCA-approved host families within the United States to resolve residual identity instability. Placement has resulted in near-total behavioral normalization. Subjects demonstrate immediate comfort within suburban environments, integrating into routines of school attendance, casual sports participation, social media use, and extended periods of passive inactivity. No subject has questioned their identity, location, or circumstances.
Each subject has been enrolled in a local high school. Academic performance is consistently low but within acceptable range; teachers report disengagement, distraction, and minimal effort. Socially, subjects attempt to conform but exhibit noticeable awkwardness, particularly in interactions with female peers. Repeated embarrassment responses have been observed, followed by withdrawal and engagement in pornography. These cycles appear self-reinforcing and contribute to overall behavioral stability.
Host families report subjects as “normal,” if somewhat disappointing. Common observations include poor hygiene, cluttered living spaces, excessive phone dependence, and lack of long-term goals. These traits align precisely with the imposed identity profile and are therefore not considered anomalies.
All environments are under continuous FCA surveillance. Personal devices are monitored, conversations recorded, and movement subtly restricted. Subjects are provided with curated
Notably, subjects express consistent satisfaction with their current state. One subject from Mexico, when prompted with archival footage of his previous life, responded: “Who is this NPC? He looks kinda sus, bro.”
Image of Miguel Hernandez (29-years-old) before exposure:
Miguel Hernandez after exposure (now, Michael Hudson; 19-years-old):
Source Status – AE-2319
The original source file of AE-2319 has been located and traced to an upload originating from the imageboard site 4chan. The thread and associated accounts have since been deleted, with no recoverable user data or archive records remaining. The identity and intent of the original poster are unknown.
Preliminary speculation suggests the GIF may have been a deliberate experiment—potentially a failed attempt by an individual or entity within the United States to culturally homogenize populations, enforce American teenage archetypes globally, or suppress reproductive potential by reducing social skills with women and promoting compulsive solo sexual behaviors.
All known copies of the GIF have been systematically removed from public networks. At present, it is believed the only surviving instance exists within FCA containment. Investigation continues, and efforts are underway to identify and interrogate the original poster to determine purpose and origin.
I love your stories! I was wondering if there might be a way for me to see myself as a Viking warrior like my ancestors were.
Sure! It's been a while since I've used my quantum machine, but I can give it a try. Just sit back and relax while I work my magic.
I think I found a good one.
Ready?
Here we go...
...
Ah, here we are. Welcome to a world where the Vikings thrived and their legacy shaped the entire course of history.
In this alternate reality, the Viking Age never came to an end. Instead of fading away due to internal conflicts and religious changes, a few strong jarls managed to forge powerful alliances that held together. The medieval warm period gave Scandinavia richer harvests, more young men, and bigger families. Raiding continued, but it was just one part of a thriving culture that also built cities, traded across continents, and developed a strong sense of identity.
The settlers who stayed in the lands they conquered intermarried with the locals, breeding a population of strong, capable men who dominated the scene for centuries. Over centuries the Norse way of life simply proved more successful. Local men either joined in or got outnumbered. By the time the industrial era rolled around, the dominant male look worldwide had become tall, broad, thick-skinned, bearded, and naturally hairy. Just centuries of one group of strong, fertile men winning so completely that everyone else became them. Modern society still runs exactly like ours (technology is the same) but every single man wakes up in a powerful Viking frame because that's just what being a normal guy means now.
And fuck, man... you wear it better than I imagined.
There you are, standing tall in the middle of the forest like you own the fucking place. You're wearing some traditional clothes: a heavy dark-brown fur vest hanging open over your massive chest, with a round metal shield strapped across your torso like a proper Viking warrior. Long, wavy blond hair cascades over your shoulders, framing a rugged, grinning face with a thick dirty-blonde beard and that perfectly curled moustache.
Underneath the ceremonial gear your body is the real star though: those arms are absolute cannons - they are veiny, pumped, and ready for anything. The vest only half-covers your thick heavy pecs dusted with blond hair that runs deep into your cleavage. You shift your weight and feel those powerful thighs rub together, your heavy cock and balls swinging loose in the air. This isn't what you wear every day though. In normal life you're usually in a simple t-shirt (or nothing at all) and shorts, but damn, you make the traditional look fucking sick.
Your job in this world? Heavy work at some docks. You're shirtless under the sun because every other guy in your crew does the same. Sweat rolls down your broad chest, soaking the thick hair between your pecs and tracing shiny paths over ridged abs. Your arms are pumped from real labour, like lifting heavy crates or hauling ropes. Every move makes your muscles shift and flex. The other guys are built just like you, but damn, you stand out. It's like you were born for this job, and every drop of sweat just makes you look even more powerful and masculine.
Back at your place you're even hotter. Kicked back on the couch after a long day, shirt completely off, one thick arm slung along the backrest. The sweat from the docks still clings to you, rolling down the grooves of your abs and soaking into the waistband of your shorts. You catch a whiff of your own ripe musk - it's salty, manly, and makes your cock twitch a bit. The way your big frame fills the entire couch makes it obvious: this body was built to take up space and feel good doing it. You look so fucking relaxed in all that muscle, like you were born to be this big and hairy.
And after your shift, what better way to unwind than with the boys at the pub? Fuck, look at the three of you crammed together at that table, big arms slung heavy and easy over each other's shoulders. To your left sits a darker man from your crew. He's not as pure as you, but the Viking blood still runs through him. His dark-haired chest that contrasts beautifully with yours. To your right, your neighbour in the grey hoodie has his own beefy, hairy pecs on full display, with a thick beard that rivals your own.
All three of you are holding full pints, with foam still thick on top. The air around your table is thick with that rich, manly aroma. You lean back a bit more, feeling the solid weight of your mates against you, and let out a deep laugh that rumbles through your chest, making it jiggle. This is how your nights here usually end: just you and your lads, no need for anything else but good company and the simple joy of being this strong together.
---
So yeah dude, in this reality, you didn't "become" a Viking warrior. You simply are one. The default setting for every man is tall, thick, bearded, and quietly proud of how fucking good it feels to carry this kind of strength. Modern comforts are all still here, but everything hits different when you're built like this.
So what do you think? Do you like this version of yourself? Would you want to live in a world like this? I hope you liked the little trip, and if you want to see more of this world or explore other versions of yourself, just let me know!
Hi, big fan of your work ! (English is not my native language, so sorry for my mistakes.)
In your recent post about the descendants of werewolves (my favorite creature !), you introduce us to Beasts and their nightly transformations.
But what would hapen if a Beast enters a transformation area like Maxford or Baxter Beach ? Would both their forms be affected or only one ? Or will they somehow influence the power of the town/beach/wherever ?
Since I’ve introduced you guys to transformation areas, I’ve mainly focused on Maxford, since it's one of the largest, and to be honest one of the most interesting transformation areas that exist. But for a complicated question like this, it makes more sense to focus on one of the smaller and more controlled transformation areas, which brings us back to another place I introduced you to early on, known as Baxter Beach.
For those of you who don’t remember, Baxter Beach is another transformation area, a small beach somewhere on the American east coast that transforms anyone who walks onto the sand into a hunky surfer for as long as they stay there. There's also a small surf shop that can extend the transformation of those who enter the area for some time, but we’ll get into that some other time. What we’re going to focus on for now is how Baxter Beach, and other transformation areas like it, affect those who aren’t quite human. Not just Beasts, but Alphas, Camous, and even Trait Vampires.
Let's start with the group you’re most familiar with, Alphas. The other descendants of werewolves besides Beasts, Alphas are incredibly manly men who are so naturally dominant that reality itself submits to their will. Men who get the entire world handed to them on a silver platter, by people who will become whatever their Alpha decides. The thing is, with a place like Baxter Beach, an area with a sort of will all of its own, Alpha's power can get a bit more… interesting. When an Alpha and a TF area come into contact, they don’t come into conflict like many people assume they would, but instead tend to form an almost symbiotic relationship. The Alpha and the area become intertwined, at least for as long as the Alpha stays in the area. The Alpha gains even more control and power than they normally would have, and the area gains more direction and strength. For example, if an Alpha were to come in contact with Baxter Beach, the Alpha would become a hunky surfer on the outside, well keeping their true self intact internally. They’d then have almost complete control over the area, not only the people but the physical area itself, able to warp and play with it with ease. They’d be able to focus the natural power of the beach in any way they wanted, and even somewhat increase the beach’s area of effect. An Alpha finding a TF area can be very, very dangerous, because as long as they stay in that area, the Alpha is essentially a god. The only limitation they’d have is that the Alpha has to stay ‘on brand’ as it were. They can do anything… as long as it’s beach related. All that being said, it is possible that something else could happen, if it were a particularly strong Alpha, or a particularly powerful area.
Next up is Camous. For those who don’t remember, Camous are essentially the opposite of Alphas, people who don’t control reality, but who conform to fit into it. Surround a Camou with a group of gym bros, you get another obnoxious gym bro. Throw a Camou into a gay nightclub, you get a cute twink ready to rave. For an Alpha a tf area is a gift, but for a Camou, they’re basically death sentences. Camous already naturally submit to their environment, but when they come in contact with a tf area, an environment that makes even regular people submit, they essentially become a part of the area itself. They undergo an intense transformation, becoming a pinnacle of whatever the area makes their victims into, and become a sort of conduit for the area's power, one that remains even after leaving the area. For example, if a Camou were to enter Baxter Beach, they’d become a hunky surfer like everyone else, but they’d notably remain one after leaving the area. Not only that, they’d make those around them hunky surfers too, at least for a while, essentially becoming a moving part of the Beach’s influence. In a way, the area infects them, turning the Camou into a part of the area itself and making them a permanent resident. Some Camous will actually seek out tf areas, since well it does change them, it protects them from being changed again and gives them a solid sense of self, something many Camous crave. Of course, they have to pick the area very carefully, or else they might become something they hate.
Another interesting group that can interact with tf areas are trait vampires, although their way of doing this is a lot simpler. Trait vampires, surprisingly, are affected by tf areas at all. No one is quite sure why, but a trait vampire stays exactly the same when inside the tf area, with the only notable difference being that they can’t steal any of the traits created by the area for themselves. One thing they can do, however, is alter some specifics of how the area affects people. For example, if a trait vampire were to walk onto Baxter Beach, they wouldn’t transform, or be able to steal someone's muscles, but they could make it so one of the hunky surfers was a beefy lifeguard instead, or a giant beach bodybuilder. They can make it so that the beach has to ‘reroll’ and transform the person in another way than they initially picked. This isn’t very useful, but can be fun for a trait vampire looking to play with their powers a bit.
Finally, let's go to your favorite group, the Beasts. Regular guys who undergo nightly transformations into incredibly manly, gruff men, ones with animalistic impulses and the need to fuck. They can spread their curse through unprotected sex, but are generally harmless as long as you have a condom. When a Beast interacts with a transformation area, they can actually gain another form. For instance, if a Beast were to enter Baxter Beach, they’d remain unchanged, and would still become their Beast self at night, but might gain the condition that they become a surfer when they touch salt water. This new, extra form will stay with the Beast, even after they leave the area, so most Beasts avoid tf areas so they don’t end up gaining a third persona.
Well it can be complicated, and dangerous to test, seeing how different transformations interact can be so fascinating. I’d definitely like to explore that a lot more in the future.
