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[kylestfs]

Bro-ken down

The sun was a massive heavy orange ball sinking low into the dirt fields, turning the whole sky into a messy mix of bruised purple and gold. It was one of those humid evenings where the air feels like a wet blanket, sticking to everything it touches. Elias, an older guy pushing fifty with a back that constantly ached and knees that popped like gravel in a blender, didn’t even hear the tire go at first. There was just that sudden weird drag to the left, the steering wheel becoming a stubborn piece of iron in his tired hands.

He muttered a curse, his voice sounding thin and scratchy in the quiet cabin.

He guided the fading sedan onto the crunchy gravel shoulder. He was in the middle of nowhere. No houses, no lights, just flat fields stretching out forever. He sat there for a second with his hands still on the wheel, feeling every single bit of his fifty years. He was just so tired. Tired of the driving, tired of the back pain, tired of the quiet house he was heading back to. He stepped out of the car, his joints feeling stiff and brittle. The back tire was a total disaster. Shredded rubber flapping against the rim. He popped the trunk and just stood there staring at the spare tire. He hadn’t changed a tire in twenty years, and his brain felt thick and foggy from the summer heat.

That was when he heard it. A low vibrating hum that grew into a window-rattling roar. A sleek black sport bike ripped through the quiet air, moving so fast it was almost a blur. The rider saw him and slowed down, the bike growling and popping as it decelerated. The guy turned the bike around in one smooth easy motion and rolled up, stopping just a few feet away. The engine idled with a deep rhythmic thrum.

The rider swung a leg off the bike like it was nothing. He was young and loose, moving with this heavy, confident gravity. He didn’t take his helmet off. It was a matte black AGV with a mirrored visor that hid his face completely.

“Need a hand, man?” Jax asked. His voice came through the helmet, slightly muffled but deep and grounded.

Elias wiped sweat from his forehead. “Yeah. Tire’s gone. I’m a bit out of my element here, honestly.”

“It’s chill, I got you,” Jax said, stepping closer. The smell of him was intense. Heavy leather, gasoline, and a sharp hot sweat that seemed to radiate off his gear. “It’s easy once you get the rhythm. Here, crouch down with me. Just watch my hands.”

Elias knelt on the gravel. Jax reached out and gripped his shoulder. His heavy riding glove felt incredibly warm through the thin fabric of Elias’s old shirt.

“First thing is the wrench. Don’t stress it. Just feel the weight of the metal. Hear that sound?” Jax tapped the wrench against the rim. Click. Click. Click.

“Just focus on that sound, Colton,” Jax whispered, his voice a low, steady drone from behind the dark visor.

Colton. The name felt familiar. Elias didn’t even correct him. It felt like a word he’d forgotten and just found again. He watched the wrench. Click. Click. Click.

“Just keep turning it,” Jax said. “Don’t think about the rest. Just the metal. The road. The rhythm.”

Elias found himself staring at his own hands on the metal. Every time Jax spoke, a little more of his old life felt like a dream he was waking up from. He tried to remember his last name. He tried to picture his living room. It was there for a second, but then it got hazy, like looking through dirty glass. He tried to hold onto it, but the effort made his head ache. Why was he trying to remember a house? Houses were just boxes. It was easier to just listen to the wrench.

As Jax kept talking, guiding his hands on the bolts, the physical world started to shift.

His old dusty work boots grew heavy and stiff. The leather became hard and non-breathable, turning into professional black biker boots with thick rubber soles and plastic armor. Inside, his feet were widening, his toes getting thick and calloused. The heat inside the boots was instant and intense. His socks soaked through with a heavy, sour, extremely pungent foot sweat. It was a thick cheesy smell wafting up from the unvented boots, mixing with the hot engine oil.

He noticed the foul smell. It was undeniably rank. But then Jax shifted closer, and the younger biker smelled exactly the same. Thick, unwashed, heavy with the scent of the road. The smells blended together perfectly. It didn’t gross him out. It felt like they matched. Like they belonged to the same pack.

“Check the bolts, Colton,” Jax murmured, his gloved hand lingering on his arm.

Colton’s knees stopped aching. They felt like steel springs. He used to be taller, but he felt his bones compacting, his center of gravity dropping to a solid powerful five-ten. Perfect for hugging a gas tank. His old work slacks thickened, the fabric transforming into a pair of heavy charcoal-grey sweatpants. He felt his rear end firm up, expanding just enough to get that plump bubbly biker shape that filled out the soft cotton perfectly.

In the front, a heavy thick bulge was filling out, the soft grey cotton leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Colton shifted his weight on his heels, feeling the low-hanging heaviness between his legs.

His upper body broadened, his chest expanding as his old shirt split and merged into a tight black gym shirt with faint grey details. It clung to his new biceps. It felt like he’d been wearing it since yesterday’s heavy lift. It was damp with old sweat, smelling like a locker room and heavy unwashed musk. His armpits were soaking through, releasing a thick masculine scent of raw onions and salt.

His stomach gave a deep, bubbling rumble. His diet was rewiring itself—he couldn’t remember the last time he ate a salad. All his body knew was cheap gas station burgers, protein shakes, and monster energy drinks. A heavy pressure built up in his gut. He didn’t even try to hold it in. He shifted his weight and let out a long, loud, vibrating fart that sounded like a dirt bike idling.

“F-fuuckkk..ughhhh..I just fucking farted..” Colton said, moaning.

It was incredibly pungent. A thick, heavy, eggy stench that lingered in the humid air like a physical cloud. He remembered his farts always reeked. So did Jax’s farts.

Jax didn’t wave his hand or back away. Instead, he stepped right into the cloud. He reached up and popped his helmet’s visor open. “Good one, bro,” Jax chuckled, taking a slow, deliberate sniff, letting the foul eggy air invade his helmet.

Colton looked up, a dumb happy grin spreading across his face. A warm surge of pride pooled in his gut. He liked that Jax liked it. He liked that he could be completely filthy and gross and Jax just claimed it. It was a weird, intense kink that suddenly felt completely natural to him. He wanted to smell like Jax. He wanted Jax to smell him.

He stood up, brushing his calloused hands on his sweatpants. This was the moment where things started to get really blurry.

He looked at the sedan parked on the shoulder. He stared at it for a long time. It looked wrong. It was too wide. It had four doors. Why would anyone need four doors? He tried to remember driving it, but the memory cut off mid-thought. He remembered hands on a steering wheel, but they didn’t feel like his hands. His hands were meant for grips, not a wheel.

The blue paint of the car seemed to swim in the humid air. The edges of the metal softened and folded inward. It was compressing, getting darker. He blinked, rubbing his eyes with a thick thumb. When he looked back, the four wheels were gone. It was a sleek black Yamaha.

He didn’t freak out. He didn’t even gasp. He just looked at it and felt a wave of relief. Right. The bike. Obviously. It was his bike. He knew the scratch on the gas tank. He knew how the clutch felt. It had always been there.

Colton didn’t want to move away from Jax. He naturally gravitated closer, their shoulders almost brushing. There was a deep quiet gravity between them. He didn’t need to make decisions anymore. He tried to think about that other life—something about a wife? A job? but the thoughts just slid off his brain. It felt gross to even try. His whole sexuality, his whole personality, had narrowed down to a single point. He just wanted to be right here, right next to Jax. Wherever Jax went, he went. They rode together, they slept together, they shared everything. It was a loyalty so deep it didn’t need words.

Thoughts were getting real simple in his head.

Hot out.

Bike looks good.

Jax is ready.

Just ride.

Jax grabbed a matte black AGV helmet from his bike and tossed it to Colton.

Colton caught it easily. His hands knew exactly how to hold it. He pulled it over his head. The inside was cramped and hot. It smelled incredibly stale, reeking of old hair wax, old sweat, and his own pungent unwashed musk. The pads squeezed his cheeks tight, making his lips pout a little behind the mirrored visor. To anyone else it would be claustrophobic. To Colton, it was a cocoon. It was his zone.

He stepped toward his Yamaha. He swung a heavy muscular leg over the seat. His bubbly sweaty rear settled onto the firm seat, the grey sweatpants bunching up perfectly to show off his thick thighs. He didn’t have to think about where to put his feet. His heavy smelly boots found the pegs by pure instinct. He leaned forward, his back curving naturally, and his hands gripped the handlebars. The calluses on his palms aligned perfectly with the rubber grips. He had done this a million times.

He revved the engine. The vibration traveled up his arms, settled deep in his chest, and buzzed against his crotch. It felt like a heartbeat.

He looked over. Jax had walked his bike over, but before he mounted it, he stepped close to Colton’s Yamaha. Jax reached out with a heavy black glove and rested his hand firmly on Colton’s plump, grey-clad butt. He gave it a slow, possessive squeeze, his thumb pressing into the soft cotton.

Even through the helmet, Colton could feel Jax’s smirk. Colton just revved the engine again, a low moan escaping his lips inside his helmet, his body leaning into the touch.

Jax patted him twice, then swung onto his own bike.

Good.

Ready.

Follow Jax.

Jax kicked his stand up and rolled forward onto the dark asphalt. Colton didn’t hesitate for a single second and followed.

yayyy biker story!! You guys have been harassing me with requests for one so there you are. Hope you enjoy ! <3

[musclelover4826]

You shouldn’t have followed me into the locker rooms after school, but you did. You shouldnt’t have put on that sweaty jock strap you found in my locker, but you did. You shouldn’t have inhaled that sweet, musky odor but you did. You were a nerd, a nobody, always following around the quarterback ever since that day I told my boys to leave you alone. You did whatever I told you and when I offered you my jockstrap to make you stronger you didn’t even ask questions, you stripped down, showing off your pale nerdy body. Blushing to have your boney little frame exposed to me. Then you slid my moist jock up your skinny legs. You started to breath in the scent and with each breath your chest swelled out and out. Tanner, stronger, big pecs pushing away from those scrawny shoulders. Your body filling with heat and power. Your height going up and up until you were as tall as the lockers. Your little size 8 feet stretching across the floor. Getting big, meaty and calloused. Swelling into some nice size 14 boats. Reeking to Hell with jocksweat as your big new toes grew coarse black hair that echoed across the backs of your feet and up your legs. The sight of those manly feet and pecs must have scared you a little bit. You tried to fight it but it was too late. I put my arms around your shoulders, forcing you to breath my musk in deeper and your body slackened. Your mind went blank as a dumb grin spread across your face. I could see the jockstrap stretching as your dick grew and hardened. The jock hormones reprogramming you to be horny all the time and secrete more jock sweat to convert more team mates. No matter how much you showered you would always stink. Not that youd ever try to clean, you filthy jock. As your muscles continued to grow in your arms and legs, you easily pushed me off and against the lockers. You kissed me, letting my jock DNA right in your mouth. Your hair shortened and styled itself up and your face rapidly aged and hardened. Gaining stubble and a hard jawline. You stood there, horny and dazed as the last of your nerdy brain cells died and all that was left was a sweaty, stinky beast that liked to play and fuck. Whose a good dumb jock? Yeah, that’s right, you.

[tf-lover]

Bro-Tract

For @octuscle as part of the 8th tf story exchange. Enjoy!

~~~

Karl gulped as he stood on the steps of Delta Tau Delta. 

This was… not what he'd expected from working from a top US law firm. This wasn't what he'd hoped for, Washington DC was what he'd hoped for. He was the one guy from his class back in Germany that managed to land an American internship… and this run down frat house was really what that had to offer? If this is the shit job they stuck the intern with, some random argument between frats, what did they actually think of him? Did they think so lowly of a German law intern that they could stick him in Columbus, Ohio and forget about him? It was an insult to him and his country. 

Yet, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t do the job. He prided himself on being reliable and getting things done quickly and efficiently, and this was no exception. He’d simply warn them of the legal repercussions of the noise complaints they’d received and what would happen if things continued, then be on his way. Quick, simple, efficient. 

Karl sighed and ran a hand through his short blond hair as he waited. Surely it didn’t take this long to answer a door? He wasn’t in the mood for hanging around idle, if they were going to be much longer he’d-

“Yo! Sorry broski, was mid set and you know Noah never fucks a workout up for anything!”

The guy, Noah, that answered the door rested against the frame and grinned lazily down at Karl. He didn’t really know what to make of the sweaty oaf that’d answered the door other than he probably had more biceps than brains. He stunk a little too, and that plus the sheen of sweat across his bare torso told Karl all he needed to know about the allegations of noise complaints; they were absolutely true. Guys like this were full of themselves without the slightest care about other people, thought only with their swinging dicks and their swollen biceps instead of the body part that actually mattered. Karl would much rather rely on his intellect and the law than anything else.

“I’m here with regards to the noise complaints and general boisterous behaviour that’s been reported in the neighbourhood. The people you live near are, well, let’s say well connected so have hired the firm I work for to intervene.” Karl adjusted his tie as he spoke, German accent showing through despite the English words. “To make this simple, cease the actions causing undue distress to those living around you or we'll be forced to escalate things to a higher level. Fines, court appearances, to name a few.”

Noah didn’t seem all that bothered by the seriousness of it all though. At least, he didn’t seem to react with the expected dread or panic over the escalating situation. Instead he seemed calm as ever, unbothered even. Like he couldn't see or even appreciate the work Karl was putting in to try and deescalate things. 

“I don’t think you-”

The jock stepped forwards and placed a hand on Karl’s shoulder, silencing him. “Listen man, why don’t you come in and we can talk more? I ain’t exactly the most, like, with it with all this legal shit so you’re gonna have to show it down.” He said with an effortlessly charming smile.

“I…” Karl sighed. He really didn’t want to have to spend any more time there than absolutely necessary, but going in might result in a shorter trip in the long run. So perhaps… “Fine. If I must.”

That grin didn’t fade as the jock stepped aside and let Karl in, then closed the door behind them. He led them both deeper into the house, giving Karl a good chance to look around. And Karl had, well he’d never been anywhere quite like it. Pictures and trophies covered the walls, images of various teams the members of the frat took part in from basketball to football and ice hockey. Empty pizza boxes and beer cans littered the living room table as they passed through, no doubt from one of the many parties there had been complaints about. But beside the typical frat house vibe it wasn’t quite as horrendous as he would have thought. The team photos and selfies covering the walls showed a sense of camaraderie Karl admittedly hadn’t felt before as his eyes lingered on each one. The place was lived in, showed signs of life and fun even if the mess was a far cry from Karl’s own immaculate apartment. He might not want to spend a moment longer in this den of mess and toxic masculinity, but he at least had to admit perhaps his first judgement might have been a harsh one. 

“Drink? Think we got a beer or two around here.” 

Karl snapped out of his… inspection as he saw a can thrust in his direction. He blinked a couple of times then shook his head. “No, no I don’t think so. Certainly not at this time of morning. Now can we-”

“Yeah yeah in a minute bro. There’s no rush for all that shit.” Noah rested against the kitchen counter and took a swig of the beer he’d offered Karl. “Tell me about you bro. Like, honestly the fuck are you here for? Because really man, this shit’s kind of lame.”

Karl opened his mouth to reply, but paused. Why was he here? This was the last place he wanted to be; he knew that. Usually he’d keep things professional, but something about Noah put him at ease. 

“I don’t know.” He admitted. 

Noah’s grin returned. “First honest thing you’ve said yet man, better.”

“I’m supposed to be in Washington DC. That’s what I signed up for, a prestigious environment to learn and make connections with important people in the world of American law. It was meant to be the opportunity of a lifetime, set me up for when I return home. I shouldn’t even be here. Instead…”

“Instead you’re in Columbus, Ohio bored out of your rigid German mind and wondering who you pissed off to land this gig? Playing messenger boy to some rich fuckers.” Noah finished.

Karl just nodded. It was a little harsh, but not entirely inaccurate. 

“Well if you want a good time you’re in the right place.” Noah fished another beer out of the fridge and held it out again. “You Germans like your beer, right? Come on, at least chill a bit. You came here with some message about the party or whatever, but I got something for you instead.”

“What? What could you possibly have for me? You don’t even know me.” Karl frowned. 

Noah shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be here. Door’s over there.” He gestured behind Karl. “I think I get the point, keep the partying down is what they want or we get sued to shit. Message heard loud and clear broski, see ya.”

“Just like that? What about the beer? This thing you have for me.” Karl enquired. 

Noah shrugged. “Done what you need Mr Efficient. Can tell you higher ups you’ve done what you came to, run off back to the life you want in Washington DC and forget you were here.” 

Karl stood there frowning, wondering where this was going. Noah had invited him in, then just like that he was getting kicked out again? How did that make sense? Even if he couldn’t make sense of it, Noah could.

“Or…” That grin grew again as Noah leaned in. “You could stay here. Saw how you lingered on those pictures on the way in man, don’t deny it. You liked what you saw. Friendship, brotherhood. Fun. Purpose. You could have all that and more if you joined us. Delta Tau Delta, we collect people like you. People out of place. I used to be in finance before I found my way here, got hired to do the books for the frat ‘cause they were in some shit and never left once I got talked into it. You could be amazing here, we’ve been needing a lawyer on side recently.” He winked. “So? What’d you say?”

Mouth agape, Karl blinked a few times whilst he processed. There were too many questions to even begin to work out answers to, but he had to start somewhere. “Just like that? I’m not exactly frat material.” He said before thinking too much about it, which was a first. 

Noah’s eyes sparkled with something Karl couldn’t quite place. “Oh we can fix that, don’t worry. I was 40 and twice this size when I arrived, now look at me.” He gestured down at his sculpted body and winked again at Karl, who couldn’t help the blush. 

“Why are you even telling me this?” Karl was no less confused than a moment ago, all he was sure of was his usual composure was slipping. “Why on earth do you even think I’d want to be some frat boy?”

“Because…” Noah stepped forwards, looming over Karl. “You’re still here. Delta Tau Delta is special; you wouldn’t have stepped foot inside if you were satisfied with your life. Something’s up, and being here can fix that, promise you that man.”

Noah reached into one of the pockets of his jeans and pulled an old looking piece of parchment, then held it up. Karl scanned over it, noting the legal sounding terminology mixed in with various words that seemed to shift on the page as he looked. At the bottom a large space was taken up by what had to be somewhere around 50 signatures. Many people had signed this… contract for the lack of a better term. 

“Sign this and we’ll see how you turn out. Simple.”

“I don’t sign anything I haven’t read first.” Karl kept looking over the contract, but it was giving him a headache trying to read it. “But this is…”

“Don’t try, believe me you’ll end up with a migraine for a week or longer if you try. Just sign it man, this will all be clear once you do.”

Karl frowned and stared at the contract a moment longer. He shouldn’t. If he was thinking at all he’d turn and walk out and chalk the whole frat up as insane. But that was the exact problem, he was thinking. He was thinking a lot, and he couldn’t come up with a reason not to do this. The firm took him for a joke it seemed, his studies were stressful and exhausting, and there wasn’t exactly anyone that would miss him back home. He and his parents had a mostly transactional, almost clinical relationship; it had always worked for him but a small part of him had always wanted more. 

So, if he was pulling a pen out then his choice was made. If he was reaching out to scrawl his name neatly amongst the others, then he was resigning himself to whatever this was. Binding himself to its will and his new fate. 

A blinding flash rippled through the room and engulfed the room the second Karl’s pen lifted from the page. For one final moment Karl wondered if he’d just made the poorest judgement of his life, signing something before being sure what he was getting into. It was potentially the most colossally idiotic choice anyone had ever made, trusting some frat boy over his own logic. Yet- 

Kale coughed as the light cleared. A few things were immediately obvious, chief of all the size of his body. His arms, chest, and shoulders, his thighs, calves and ass, all of it was bigger. Heavier. The bulge between his legs was far more substantial too he could tell that already. Then there was the ink that covered his skin, the second thing he noticed. It snaked down his arms and over his chest, exposed only because he now found himself almost naked instead of dressed in the suit he’d arrived in. When he turned and looked down he caught a glance of more ink on his back and calves too, but the jockstrap he was wearing was the main attraction. He reached up towards his head too and briefly pulled the baseball cap he found there off; the strands of hair that fell in his face were an inky black instead of the blond he was used to sporting and cut far sharper than his formal self had ever dared allow. A ring pierced his nose alongside a handful more piercings across his ears, only adding to the rougher vibe he now seemed to have. And when he spoke, well…

“Fuckin’ hell man, what in the shit happened?!” His voice came out in a smooth American accent with just the smallest hint of something southern he couldn’t place. LA something in the back of his mind said. “I’m… I’m…”

“Fucking sexy as hell Colton, damn!” Noah exclaimed.

Karl blinked and met Noah’s attracted gaze. “Colton? What? No, my name’s…” A second went by where Karl’s, no, Colton’s mind swam. He shook his head to try and clear the odd feeling to little success. “Colton. Why do I think my name is Colton?”

Noah waved the contract in his face for long enough Colton caught the space on it where moments ago his former name had been. Now though instead of Karl written in his neat script was the name Colton in a similar but slightly rougher penmanship. 

“You’re free man. Karl is gone, just Colton now. Don't fight it, you’ll throw up. Trust me dude I’ve been vomited on more than once when I’ve signed people up and I’m done with that nasty shit.” Noah grimaced. “Just chill out and accept it. You’re Colton. LA born and pre-law at Columbus. Only time you’ve been to Europe was a month long party bash we went on last summer. You’re you still, I ain’t changed that. Just with a new history.”

Colton nodded. “I’ve got a younger brother still, Henry.” Not Hans anymore he noted, but the shifting memories told Colton his little brother was much the same person as before. A little kinder and softer perhaps. “He’s… looking at going to art school? Not going into engineering?”

Noah shook his head. “Nope. Your parents aren’t at all who they used to be. Dad’s a mechanic, owns his own shop after an injury forced him to retire from his baseball career. Mum’s a nurse I think. Always encouraged you both to stay fit and healthy, but otherwise let you choose your own path. Law still for you is impressive.”

Colton could hardly believe it all, but the proof was there. A whole life reformed from one simple contract. He was still piecing it all together in his head… but it felt like the best thing he’d ever done. He was free of the burdens, the rigid life he thought he liked but now from the outside looked miserable. Lonely. Now he had the frat, his family, his life. He had everything he never cared to want. And a sexy ass body to go with it.

“I’ve got a lot to get used to don’t I?” Colton grinned for the first time and flexed one arm just a little. “This for starters, shit this is addictive huh?”

“Oh bro you don’t know the half of it.” Noah reached out and placed a hand on Colton’s chest, squeezing the tattooed pec he found there. “Delta Tau Delta? Lets just say the contract makes us all swing a certain way… so we have an open door policy. And our frat meetings on Monday nights are… eventful. If you catch my drift.” He wiggled his eyebrows then licked his bottom lip. “But we can get started early if you’re keen to explore? I could say, give you a tour?”

“Long as that tour starts in your bedroom I’m down bro.” Colton smirked. 

He might not have expected it, but Delta Tau Delta was turning out to be the best assignment he could have wished for.

[repossesseddesires]

0. The Fool

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

0. The Fool

Professor Hudson's gaze darted wearily from side to side as he surveyed the university's end-of-semester fair. He could see his stupid students running around, the occasional amorous couple practically devouring each other, athletes flexing, and some overweight guy stuffing himself with cotton candy. They all seemed so... idiotic.

Hudson was the typical academic who made life miserable for his students, always thinking he was a brilliant genius walking the earth (and, well, his almost three doctorates plus a master's degree only made him more arrogant and prone to exploding at the slightest idiotic action).

He despised athletes above all else, those fraternity members who didn't strive for anything other than getting ripped at the gym to impress girls, or even guys. All this talk about inclusion, for crying out loud. How could anyone prefer having muscles over brains? And it wasn't like he didn't take care of himself, of course he did, but he had brains.

— Stop running, you're going to cause an accident! – The professor practically barked at some students who were running around carelessly. Those brats were going to give him an aneurysm. 

His gaze lingered on one of the fair's tents; there were hundreds and hundreds of them, some for target games, others for food, and there were even photo booths, but this one The tent was different… It had intense, striking, yet calming blue colors on its walls and ceiling, and a scent that seemed to be sea breeze emanated from it.

In no time, the man was already walking inside. There was only very dim candlelight and… sand? He looked up, finding a young, blonde woman with a slight smile behind a glass table.

— Hello, welcome. Can I help you?

— I… Excuse me, what is this? – the man said, somewhat confused. He didn't even know how he had gotten there; it was as if an alluring, hypnotic force, almost pure magnetism, had drawn him in.

— Would you like me to tell your fortune? I think it's better if I explain it this way – Cirse moved the deck in her hands; the cards shifted elegantly from side to side, almost floating in the air. They were engraved with bluish details and vibrant colors, as if they wanted to convey the essence of the summer that was almost upon them.

— Fortune? – the man asked. He let out a mocking laugh, shaking his head – That's for charlatans and people without their own judgment. It's obviously false – He was about to turn away when she spoke again.

— Of course, it's easy to believe what you can see, but what's imperceptible to the human eye, that's what's truly fascinating. If you're a man of fact and not faith. Great philosophers have pondered this doubt, the real question here is… If you're so sure of your knowledge, why would it matter to put it to the test?

The professor's jaw tightened. The most sensible thing would have been to leave the shop and leave the woman alone, but the urge to prove a point took hold of him. He approached the table and sat down on the other side.

— Cost?

— Our first reading is always free – She winked at him confidently as she passed the cards from one side to the other. The sound between them was like clicks. Everything moved so quickly that he didn't have a second to distinguish the different cards. The Magician, Judgment, Fortune, Knight of Wands – everything moved like a hurricane until finally one touched the table, sliding across it. Circe's smile appeared like a painting, accompanied by a giggle.

— And what's that? 

She turned the card over to reveal the Fool.

— Wow, what a great turn… – she whispered, fascinated, touching the card with her elegant nails – The Fool card tells us about the beginning of a new journey, and I think it will be a very long one... With all the potential that's trapped inside you. And more than anything, liberation.

Her lips pronounced that last word as if it were silk, letter by letter. The candles slowly extinguished until the place was plunged into complete darkness. The man just rolled his eyes.

— Yes, yes, it's clear you know how to put on a good show. Can I go now? – The silence was total. Hudson sighed, about to stand up when he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He had to throw himself back down in the chair; it was a pain Disabled. Shit, was he having a heart attack? – Hello?! Something's wrong with me, I need help!

He expected to hear the woman's voice again, but only felt another pain in his ribs. He clenched his jaw, trying to stifle a scream, but it was useless. He felt as if his bones were being torn apart. He gripped the armrests tightly, gasping for breath.

— MFHHH! H-Help! – he pleaded again, desperately seeking someone's attention. Without hearing the way his clothes began to rustle, as if the seams were about to burst, the man groaned. Suddenly, his pectoral muscles expanded forward, like the yeast baking a cake fresh from the oven. He felt his shirt begin to tighten, trying to accommodate his new changes, but without much success. Buttons flew off, and the "elegant" sweater he was wearing ripped like cracks in an earthquake. The pain was excruciating; his skin burned. Something similar was happening to his lower torso, his abs heating up to melt away all the accumulated fat. His years-long belly began to reintegrate with the rest of his body, leaving behind a well-defined six-pack and a glistening, pearly complexion.

— MFHH! M-Miss! – He shouted again, a burp escaping his lips inexplicably. He tried to cover his mouth when he felt another one, but instead felt a tingling in his arms that quickly filled with that same wave of energy, expanding in a snap of his fingers. His biceps were defined, though not usually so exaggerated, but now they had grown exponentially, as if he were a gym addict. His armpits, usually hairless, were now covered in hair, and a strong smell hit his nose. Shit, why did he smell like a gym? It was the same smell that filled his classroom when the damn athletes came in after a rigorous training session. The aroma left him so confused that he didn't realize when the sensation shifted to his legs, his muscles beginning to expand, using stored fat to transform it into pure, dense muscle. The man groaned, feeling his pants begin to rip.

— Shit! No! – He watched as his tailored trousers tore to shreds, his boxers tightening as his tool began to mutate in the same way. He was well-endowed, a good 15cm, but these began to grow longer and longer, becoming heavier, thicker, and longer. His balls followed suit, becoming more rounded and filled with that precious whitish fluid. The sensation was still uncomfortable, but there was a more lustful charge in these final stimuli. The man gasped, his tongue lolling out, caressing himself as the transformation moved down to shape his calves. Again, the changes accelerated in his feet. The khaki shoes ended up torn and shredded as his feet grew, smelling and sweaty. Hudson let out a loud, confused groan, his face flushed.

— S-shit, t-this isn't right – he stammered, trying to stand. He paced aimlessly, trying to lean against the table for air, but his shoulders and back swelled, becoming larger and more massive. The stern professor's careless hand brushed against his manhood, panting. Slowly, he felt his rear end begin to grow and become rounder, as if air were being pumped into a pair of shiny balloons. The little that remained of his clothing tightened around the new shape. The air was warm, though a loud thud from his buttocks shattered it completely – PPFFRHHHHT.

His stomach ached as if tons of protein were inside him. Another thunderous fart escaped. The professor had no idea what was happening.

— N-no, it can't be – He tried to take another step forward, another burp escaping his lips. He was so desperate and confused that he didn't even notice the body he now had, which bore no resemblance to his usual physique. It looked as if his head had been attached to the body of some college athlete, and in fact, that was the extent of the change.

Energy surged up his spine to his neck.

— Shit! – What came out of his mouth was a sound completely foreign to his polite and refined tone. Now it was deep, resonant, as if he didn't have many brain cells. His voice sounded almost 20 years younger, hmmm! Little by little, his neck changed, becoming more muscular and rugged.

A huge Adam's apple rose, and his skin gradually became smoother, perfect, like that of a high-level athlete. His chin sculpted, and every trace of a double chin disappeared in the blink of an eye. His cheeks followed the same path, becoming firmer, his nose more upturned, his head grew a little, his old glasses broke from the sides and fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.

— MFHH! SOMEONE HELP! – he shouted again, his voice unfamiliar to him. The transformation reached his hair, turning it a deeper brown, styled in a shorter, more modern way. The man was slamming against the walls. But that wasn't the worst of it.

Like a jolt of energy, he suddenly froze, face up, his eyes slightly crossed, his mouth ajar with saliva escaping.

— Ughh… – He was almost in a catatonic state, only grunts and guttural sounds escaping his thick throat – Mfhhh…

His eyes remained almost blank. Apparently, from the outside, nothing was happening. But inside his mind, it was as if the Library of Alexandria were under fire again; all his knowledge, his academic degrees, everything was being thrown away while something else was forming in its place. Why worry so much about IQ when he could keep training to grow those fantastic pecs? Hehehe, one more size and he'd have to wear a sports bra, hehe. His brain was slowly slowing down as other priorities tore down each of the islands that were important to him in his psyche. Goodbye to teaching, hello to partying. Why would he be interested in teaching others when he was barely in college, bro? What kind of nerd would he be?

His mind was slowly adapting to the new frat-brother body he now had, with those nice muscles, that attractive face that could make anyone swoon. He wouldn't have a fixed preference; bread is for everyone to enjoy, right? He'd be like a beast in bed, bro! Although nervous twinks were definitely his weakness, hammering them for hours, so damn sweaty. With that damn stench emanating from every part of their bodies that he loved so much.

His mind was slowly adapting to the new frat-brother body he now had, with those nice muscles, that attractive face that could make anyone swoon. He could sweat like nobody else on campus; they called him "Stinky Danny" for a reason. Ha, his farts were fucking legendary! They smell like tear gas, but he loved them – pure protein, honey!

The old, strict, and bitter professor was a complete jock now. The image of the student he so detested, the one he thought was a waste of student funds, was now Danny. 

The good old Danny, a member of the football team – hopefully he'd be captain someday, stinky, he spent more time in the gym than in his classes, which were fucking boring. He didn't think much, duh. He'd gotten into college on an athletic scholarship; he could pay some nerd to do his homework for him (or better yet, do it "in person").

The whirlwind of hormones and testosterone settled within him, his tool still hard, as were his areolas. His hand automatically moved to the area, beginning to stroke it back and forth, lost in this final mental transformation. One drop and it would completely seal off this change; there would be no going back, no more Professor Hudson, no more teaching, only being a stupid jock.

— MFHH! I-I… I… This is wrong! H-help. I-I… – The deep, gravelly voice of the new college student body rang out, his eyes rolling back in his head again. He tried to speak, but a jet of whitish substance shot out like an avalanche, spreading the stench of dampness and chlorine everywhere. His thick pecs rose and fell before his vision slowly cleared.

— Ugh, shit, my head, bro – he muttered. Around him, only the rest of the fair remained; it couldn't have been more than five in the afternoon. Perfect for finding his fraternity bros and going on other rides. Shit, he even saw a guy working at the mirror house earlier; he was so cute. Maybe he could convince him to take him downstairs and show him how good he was at hide-and-seek, damn, hehe.

The jock stretched a little. Inhaling the scent of his hairy armpits, he stroked his pecs; he looked fantastic. He'd been training nonstop for when summer came. He planned to go to the beach in the tiniest swimsuit he could find. He might go with his friends for the holidays, or even by himself. He didn't want to share all the hotties he'd hook up with when he was in the middle of the saltwater and sand. Ah… It felt so good to be free. Screw college.

— BRAWWWPP – he blurted out, letting out a laugh and shaking his head as he walked away, patting his belly. Those hot dogs hadn't agreed with him, haha. Lol. Danny let out a soft laugh as he scratched his fat butt with his hand. He loved being a stinky, farting jock so much, ha. Wait, why did he have some kind of handkerchief in his pocket? Ugh, like he's some kind of refined loser or something, get ready world, because Stinky Danny is here to have some fun, booyaaaah!

Circe could only watch from afar as old Professor Hudson, now ridiculously improved in all his glory (well, surely if he were still aware of his new appearance, he'd be going crazy), but that was the least of her concerns.

— Mwhaaaa – she heard a kind of soft, gentle grunt from her bag, and she just patted it.

— Shhh, calm down – she whispered into her deck of cards – I promise there will be more transformations soon. Litha is just around the corner, and magical energy is more abundant – She seemed to feel the air around her, taking in the sea breeze, the color of seashells etched against the sky, the refreshing sound of waves crashing against the shore – I think I know exactly where we need to go, buddy. Let's go.

----

Hey everyone!

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it. Summer it's almost here, and as you know, I love writing with the thematic of the months / seasons. So in the next months, I'll try to write about summer transformation, bodyswap, possessions and more.

I really love writing about this Tarot series, so. I have a question for you:

Which Tarot / Major Arcana Card would you like to see next?

The Wheel of Fortune

The Sun

The Temperance

The Hierophant

Voting ended onJun 3

The cards of The Lovers, The Strenght, The Justice, The Tower, The Star, The Moon and The Judgement are available on my blog. If you have any particular ideas, I'd love to hear them. Thank you!

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

----

[hyphyphurray]

Throw two alpha males into the same gym, and they’ll either become best friends or enemies.

Maybe if Derek wasn’t such an asshole, we’d have been best bros. But one time I was just finishing up my entire workout and I told him he couldn’t switch in, and he got all pissed about it. It was my last two sets, and then I had to run, he didn’t have to act like such a little bitch about it.

But now every time we’re in the gym at the same time, he’s gotta pull some kind of shit. He even has a couple admirers that do his fucking bidding- I saw some nerdy type trying to steal something from my gym bag, and when caught in the act, he just ran behind Derek like some kind of cowering puppy. Pathetic.

Not that I don’t have a couple of non-muscle types on my side. I’d been helping this kinda guy Shawn for a month by giving him some pointers, and he’d seen some small gains, and now he practically worships me. And honestly, I was proud of him- it’s the incentive to keep going to the gym and work- whatever genetics gave you- that mattered to me. Sure, he’d never weigh more than a buck fifty, but he wasn’t some asshole like Derek.

It was after Derek “tripped” one day and spilled my protein shake that I just got super pissed and ranted about him to Shawn.

“I can’t stand that asshole!” I growled, glowering from across the gym. “He thinks the whole fucking world revolves around him.”

Shawn tried to calm me down.

“Listen, Mark,” he said, helping me clean up my shake. “You’re a good guy, and you’ve been super nice to me. Maybe I could do something to help you out with Derek…”

“Like what?” I asked.

Shawn blushed.

“Well, uh… I’m kind of a hypnotist, and…” he cleared his throat. “I could maybe make this audio file that makes him listen to you…. follow your orders…”

“Are you for real?” I said. “That shit actually work?”

Shawn nodded and then continued.

“I could pretend to ask him for lifting help, act like we had a falling out, and then tell him that I had this great file that would help him out with his workouts….”

Holy shit. That sounded amazing.

“Shawn,” I said, clapping him on the back. “You’re fucking awesome, bro!”

And the rest of the week at the gym, it all went to plan. Shawn started following Derek around, praising his muscles and asking for help. Derek seemed only too happy to steal away an admirer of mine, and actually started parading Shawn in front of me, trying to piss me off.

But then I’d see him post workout, earbuds in, listening to something. Shawn saw me taking note and winked.

My phone buzzed. A text from Shawn.

“His trigger phrase is Muscle Slave,” it read.

I grinned. I couldn’t wait for just the right moment.

It came the next week. In the locker room, I saw Derek’s scrawny hero-worshipper kneeled over my gym bag, mumbling something. Derek probably sent him over to throw it in one of the showers or some juvenile prank like that.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you little twerp?” I bellowed, and the little pipsqueak jumped into the air and took off. I looked in my bag. Nothing missing. I pulled out my muscle tank and a clean jock from the bag and threw them on with some shorts. This shit was gonna end today.

I made my way across the locker room to Derek, who had just finished working out.

“Your little dork was trying to get into my stuff again,” I growled.

Derek looked up from the bench he sat on.

“Christ, you’re an asshole,” he sneered. “Just ‘cause you’ve got some muscle, you think you’re in charge. Take that away and you’d be a nobody.”

“And you think everyone should just bend over at your every word. Can’t imagine a world that doesn’t revolve around you,” I spat back.

Strangely, he grinned.

“I can’t help it if little guys love me,” he flexed in his tight black undershirt. “If you were one, I bet you’d be all over this too. Or should I say, when you are one…”

I froze. What the fuck was this asshole talking about?

“I can’t believe it,” he continued. “That ‘little dork’ you were talking about actually did it.”

“Did what?” I cleared my throat. Something felt weird. I glared down at Derek. My hand went to my throat. “What the…?”

Derek’s eyes blazed as he actually started to laugh.

“Shit, you haven’t noticed? You’ve gotta be 30 pounds lighter by now!”

I looked down. My previously tight muscle tank was hanging off of me. My pecs! Gone! My biceps- gone! All of my hard earned gains at the gym were melting away!

I stared in horror at Derek. Fuck, was I getting shorter? He was sitting- I should be towering over him.

“That ‘little dork’ friend of mine does some magic in his spare time,” Derek chortled. “And he agreed with me that you should get taken down a peg or two.”

My shorts felt loose as I lost another inch. Two.

“You bastard!” I yelled, and my voice cracked.

“So now you’re going to know what it feels like to be a scrawny little nerd, obsessed with big muscle guys.”

Oh god, even my dick was shrinking. I could feel the jock loosen around my balls. I should have been pissed, but… I just saw this behemoth in front of me, his thighs bulging in his dark green shorts. My now tinier dick was hard and getting harder. Fuck! I was getting horny looking at Derek!

“Oh fuck,” I moaned, sounding like some little bitch.

I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror to the side. I must be barely 5'4’’ now! I’d be lucky if I weighed 120!

Derek grinned at me.

“You want this, don’t you?” he said, and flexed his massive arms.

Fuck. I did. My shorts, now too baggy for my shrunken frame, fell down around my ankles. God, even my feet had shrunk! My size 13 sneakers made me feel like I was wearing clown shoes.

I stared at Derek, impossibly horny. God, I wanted him to fuck me. To pin me down with his massive bulk. He stood over me, a giant, seemingly impossibly tall after once being just an inch shorter than me. He pushed me to my new, skinny knees.

“Not giving orders anymore, are you, you horny little twink?” he laughed.

And then I saw the earbuds still in.

“Shut up, Muscle Slave,” I snapped.

Derek blinked. His jaw started to go slack.

“What…?” he trailed off. He looked wobbly.

“Sit down, Muscle Slave,” I said.

He did.

Fuck. I was horny. And now this massive muscle god was sitting in front of me, awaiting orders.

I wrapped my new smaller hand around my tiny, hard cock. My other hand moved its way to my ass. God, fuck, I was so small, and horny.

I needed to get fucked.

“You’re right,” I purred, tracing my hand down Derek’s massive shoulder. “I’m just a horny little twink boy.”

His eyes seemed glazed.

“And now you’re gonna fuck me like I’m the center of your reality.”

I saw his dick twitch in his green shorts.

“Fuck me, Muscle Slave,” I whispered.

He picked me up right out of my now massive shoes with one arm, and slid off the now comically large jockstrap down my now-hairless legs. He turned me around, and I felt his massive cock push against my ass.

“Yes, master,” he said.

I started to grind my perky little ass against his raging boner. I felt the sinew of his muscles gripping me, enveloping me. I wanted to worship every one of them.

Fuck.

I was a horny little muscle-obssed fuckboi.

I moaned in my higher voice.

And this muscle god was going to fuck me until I forgave him.

[misctf]

The Game Show

You can think of a few reasons why you found yourself in the audience that night. Well, really one. When you heard "Are You Smarter Than A Himbo" was putting on a show in your neighborhood, you couldn't resist. Sure, it was kind of stupid. You'd seen the clips online. They'd bring some braindead jock up on stage to flex, laugh, crack jokes, and answer basic trivia wrong. The poor idiot would laugh along as the audience laughed at him. You'd always figured the dunce was too dumb to realize they were laughing at him. But fuck, those guys were hot. So if anything, you'd get to ogle at some hot guy flexing all night and maybe get a few laughs out of it too.

"Do you think Zak's pecs are real?"

"Jason is like totally the hottest."

"I think Ryan isn't as dumb as he lets on."

"Did you know Mike is single? I can't…"

You roll your eyes at the fanfare all around you. These people were seriously into it. And then it starts.

"Welcome everyone!" You watch as a lanky man struts on stage with his hair slicked back and a wide grin on his face, "Are you ready!?" The crowd- mostly women and a few guys cheered in response, "I said: are you ready!?" You roll your eyes as the host worked the crowd, "Alright, alright… welcome." The host smiles wider, "Put your hands together for our main man!"

The host gestures toward the side of the stage and Zak strolls out with a slow, confident walk, his arms flexed as if expecting applause. He’s got thick curls falling over his forehead, and his chest is packed with muscle, tight under his white tank top. The crowd goes wild as he steps onto the platform.

“Y’all ready?” Zak shouts, raising both arms above his head. “Let’s go!” He pulls off his shirt in one smooth motion, and your eyes widen as you take in his massive pecs and perfect abs. The crowd similarly goes wild. Zak grins, flashing a perfect set of teeth, "I'm so fuckin' pumped to be here tonight! I fuckin' love you guys!"

"But Zak, I think you have something to say to everyone. Right?" The host interjects, patting the massive jock on the back.

"Yo dude yeah, for real." Zak nods, "Like, this is gonna be my last show, ya know? With the whole modeling thing blowin' up and all." The audience groans, "I know, it sucks majorly, trust me!" Zak frowns, "But like, you'll get to see plenty more of me. Trust me brahs." He winks and the crowd cheers.

The host claps, "That’s what I like to hear! Alright, let’s get started!"

You lean forward in your seat as the first audience member is brought up. It only takes a few questions for her to utterly humiliate Zak, who just laughs and flexes like the dumb himbo that he is. As the contestant returns to her seat, the host's eyes scan the crowd, zeroing in on you.

"What about you there in the blue shirt? He looks smart, right Zak? Let's get you up here!"

Initially you're shocked. You? The host gestures for you to make your way up to the stage. You can feel your heart pounding as you climb the stairs, palms feeling a little sweaty. The bright lights, all eyes on you. And as you step onto the stage, you get an up close look of Zak. His biceps bulge impressively, glistening with a light sheen of sweat. But god he smells like a wet gym sock.

"Sup bro, nice to meetcha!" Zak grins and throws a muscular arm around you, "Dude, you ready for this?"

"Aw do I sense a budding bromance?" The host grins and the crowd cheers. After settling them down, he turns to you. "You know how this works by now. Do you think you're smarter than a himbo?"

"Yeah, I think I am." You reply.

"Heh we'll see about that, bro!" Zak guffaws, "I was just goin' easy on that last chick."

"The confidence!" The host laughs, "Let's put it to the test. Your first question: Which is the only sea without any coastlines?"

You ponder for a moment. A sea without a coastline? That's... god what was that? You feel your cheeks flushing red, as you realize you don't know the answer to that. But if you don't know the answer, Zak would definitely not know either. Speaking of Zak, he's bouncing his pecs like the oversized gym bro he is.

"Is it the Caspian Sea?" You shrug, eyes still locked on his massive pecs. Of course the host shakes his head with exaggerated sadness.

"Ah, seems Mr. Smartypants here was a bit too distracted admiring the view to ace that question!" He winks at the audience, while Zak flexes.

"No shame in that, brah!"

You feel your face flush red with embarrassment as the laughter from the audience washes over you. Great, now they all think you're just another hormone-addled fool who can't string two thoughts together because of a pretty face.

"Alright Zak, a question for you now buddy!" You figure Zak is about to bomb this question anyway- round will end in a tie and you can walk away with some dignity, "What color are bananas?"

Zak scratches his head, "Dude… tricky." He chuckles, low and dumb, "So, I want to say yellow, but also green when they're not ripe. Oh but brown too if they go for too long!"

"Fantastic answer Zak! Well thought out!" The host grins as the crowd cheers, "Uh oh, looks like Zak has pulled ahead!"

The fuck kind of question was that? You look at the host and then Zak, who is doing a victory dance. The color of bananas? Of course Zak would know that- he's a fucking ape. You smirk at your own joke.

"Okay okay, let's try another one! Mr. Smartypants, are you ready to redeem yourself?" You're ready, more than ready. You're not..., "What pigments are responsible for the red color of leaves?"

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You don't have an answer for that. Maybe you did know it, but between the flexing stud and the stage fright, you couldn't find the information.

"Chlorophyll."

"What a shame! That is not correct." He smiles at the audience, "It seems Zak may have a chance to widen his lead! Hey big guy, what day of the month is Christmas celebrated on?" It takes Zak maybe a minute or two to answer that one correctly, "Look at that folks, Zak is now up by two!" He turns to you with a grin, "Seems our guest is not much of a smartypants after all!"

Again, your face flush reds, "No worries, little dude." Zak ruffles your hair, "I uh, I got some smarts, ya know." He looks out towards the audience, "Last show brahs but first win!"

The crowd cheers and it dawns on you that you might be the first person to actually lose this stupid game. Frustration bubbles up inside you as the host and crowd continue to mock you. You're better than this, smarter than being made a fool of. Screw it, you're going to show them all up.

"I could answer every single one of those easy-ass questions he's getting," you mutter under your breath, but the mic picks it up anyway. The host's eyes light up.

"Oh ho, is that so?" He raises an eyebrow, a smirk gracing his features. "Well then, why don't you prove it, hot shot? Let's see if you can handle something a little more…your speed. Here we go bud - how does the body cool down during intense exercise like a heavy workout session?"

You chuckle. Really? This was the question? You clear your voice, "Sweating. That's how it keeps from overheating."

"Correct!"

"Woah bro, nice one!"

Yeah... that was a nice one. Finally got a question right... finally... You wince as a warmth fills your upper arms. At first it's just a gentle tingling, a warm buzzing beneath your skin. But quickly it builds to a throbbing, insistent pressure.

"What the…?"

The sensation intensifies, an intensifying heat pulsing through your upper arms. Your skin prickles and tightens as your biceps and triceps stretch against the sleeve of your shirt. It feels like the most intense pump after a grueling workout, but magnified tenfold. Your arms throbbing, aching. You feel aware of just how much more space they're taking up. And the twitching- it's incessant. Unconsciously, your arms start to rise, muscles tensing, flexing…

"Whoa…" you mutter, marveling at the sheer size and density of your upper arms, "How…?"

The host clears his throat pointedly, breaking you out of your awestruck reverie. "Ahem, moving on! Thanks for that… demonstration." He shoots you a knowing wink, a sly grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Let's see if we can't challenge that big ol' brain of yours with another question, shall we? What does the acronym SBD stand for in powerlifting?"

"Oh brah, way too easy." Zak chides, crossing his massive arms over his muscular chest, "Even I know that one."

But your head is swimming. The powerful feeling in your arms send pleasurable waves of warmth through your body. But your mind. You're reviewing the question. Thinking it through. SBD? In powerlifting?

"SBD... SBD..." You rub your chin, unconsciously flexing your now massive bicep, "Huh... like... That's uh..."

You look over at Zak and he's making some kind of motion. A goofy grin on his face as he squats. Squats. Squats!

"Bro!" You grin, "Squats, dude! Yeah, that's what the S stands for." You grin, but the host shakes his head, "C'mon what?" You pout.

"You're still forgetting the rest." The host smiles, "And the timer is counting down."

You shuffle anxiously on your feet. You know this, right? But why would you? You're not into powerlifting. But like, it should be easy. If S stands for squats then like, wouldn't B and D also be something to do with working out? Yeah? Totally, that makes sense. But like, what else is there? What other... huh... shirt is getting kinda tight too. And fuck, you can't help but notice how warm your chest feels. Nice and warm, pressing more and more against the fabric of your shirt. Stretching it out against your big, meaty...

"Bench press, brah! B stands for bench press!" You say with a grin as your shirt starts to tear away, revealing a set of massive pecs and a chiseled torso, "Huh where'd my shirt go?" The audience cheers and you grin, staring down as you bounce your pecs.

"Excellent job, but unfortunately, you didn't finish. You missed D, you big dunce."

The host laughs, and you laugh along with him and the audience. Big dunce. Yeah that's... that's you? You pause for a second and start to feel that same embarrassment from earlier. They're laughing... not with you, but...

"Dude, can't win em all!" Zak slaps you on your increasingly wider back and you turn to him- now at eye-level, "But like, brah, you've got this next one!"

"Y-y-you th-think so.... brah?" Your tongue feels heavy, the words feel sluggish. You notice your voice sounds deeper to your ears, "I..."

"You have to focus there, smartypants!" The host interrupts, "Two more questions. Are you ready?" You nod slowly, "In a deadlift, how high are you supposed to lift the barbell before lowering it?"

"Deadlift..." Your eyes light up suddenly, "Wait, bro! The D! That's what D stands for, brah!" You say excitedly.

The whole audience laughs, as does the host. You look at him, feeling a strange sense of confusion bubbling up. Why were they laughing? What was so funny?

"Good job there, but that was the last question. We've moved on, big guy."

"Oh..." You chuckle, a grin forming on your lips as you let out a deep, dumb laugh, "Huhuhuh that was pretty stupid of me." The audience and the host laugh even louder, and you find yourself joining in, "Alright, gotta lock in, gotta... brah what was the question?"

"Dead lifts..."

"Oh fuck yeah! I fuckin' love deadlifts."

The host grins, "Yes, exactly! So tell us, when doing a deadlift, how high do you lift the barbell before lowering it?"

"Yeah... uh..." You bite your lip, thinking hard. Your fingers drum against your swollen bicep as you try to concentrate and with a sigh, lift your hands behind your head, "Oh nice..."

Your eyes lock on to your bulging bis and tris and you're momentarily distracted. But the sharp tang of your own musk drifts up from your armpits, momentarily derailing your train of thought. Fuck, you smell good. Really fucking good. But since when did you...?

"Brah, c'mon you got this." Zak says, watching you closely.

You shake your head and run a hand through your perfectly gelled, styled hair, before pausing- fuck your aesthetic is probably cooked. You awkwardly pat at your hair.

"Worry about your hair later, you've got a question to answer." The host says.

"Fuck, sorry..." You let out an awkward chuckle, "Just gotta..."

Your body moves instinctively into the proper deadlift position—back straight, knees slightly bent, hips pushed back—as if you've done this 1000s of times before. As you demonstrate the form flawlessly, a new awareness floods your lower body. Your glutes feel… alive. Heavy. Round. Perfect. You grin as you squeeze them unconsciously, feeling the dense muscle fibers contract.

"The answer is hips, bro."

"Let's fuckin' go, brah!" Zak cheers and slaps you on the ass, sending a wave of intense pleasure reverberating through your meaty glutes.

As the crowd cheers, your eyes lock on Zak. The pleasure from him slapping your ass still making you shudder. You drink him in, fixated on the prominent bulge straining against his gym shorts.

"Fuck..." You mumble- he's packing serious heat there.

Your mouth waters involuntarily as fantasies flood your mind—Zak pinning you down, those huge hands squeezing your meaty ass while he drives his massive cock deep inside you. The image of you riding his thick cock sends shivers down your growing frame, and you imagine running your tongue over every inch of his sweat-slick skin. You lick your lips and grin at the thought.

When your eyes meet again, Zak doesn't look away. Instead, his smirk widens as he catches you staring, and the few brain cells he has recognize exactly what you’re thinking. He flexes for the audience, but he turns to give you a quick wink, letting you know all that flexing was just for you... because he wants you to know he wants you too. After all, you know there's not way he could resist you either. With your... bulging pecs? Massive arms? Thick glutes?

"Wait..." You mumble. You can feel the rusting gears in your increasingly empty head turn ever so slightly, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth.

Your head was spinning, brain trying to make sense of all of it.

Something’s off, right? Like... this ain’t how it used to be. You know that. You weren’t… this. But then... what were you then, dude? Cause, like, look at you. Seriously... just look. You’re absolutely shredded. I mean, c’mon, those arms? That chest? You don’t just wake up lookin’ this jacked without bein’… well, this guy. So how could you not be you if you straight-up look like you? Right?

A dumb chuckle escapes your lips as all that thinking overwhelms and shuts down whatever last remaining brain cells you have.

The host snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking you out of your haze. "Earth to bro, we still got one question."

"Huh? Wha-" You blink slowly, your expression vacant and slack. Drool slips down your chin as you stare blankly ahead.

"Are you smarter than a himbo?" The host grins.

"Nawww, bro, 'course not!" You reply with a big, dumb grin spreading across your face, "Can't be smarter than a himbo cuz… I AM the fuckin' himbo, bro!"

The host laughs, shaking his head, "Well folks, I guess that settles it! Looks like we've got ourselves a new resident himbo to take Zak's place. Give it up for… COLT!"

The audience erupts into cheers and applause as you beam proudly, basking in the spotlight. You feel Zak sling a muscular arm around your broad shoulders, squeezing you close.

"Dude, so fuckin' glad you're joinin' the fam, bro!" Zak enthuses, his hand drifting lower to grope your ass possessively, "Trust me bro, you're gonna love it."

Zak's strong grip on your juicy ass makes you shudder and you can tell by that grin that he's thinking exactly what you're thinking.

The host clears his throat loudly, snapping you out of your lustful stupor. "Don't forget to wave to the crowd, champ!" He gestures encouragingly towards the audience.

With a dopey grin, you raise a hand in greeting, relishing the adoration pouring in from all sides.

"Thanks y'all, this is gonna be fuckin' sick!" You call out enthusiastically, grinning like an idiot.

And as Zak digs his fingers into your massive ass, you lick your lips hungrily. The only thought in your empty head was that once this show was over, you'd be giving him a private encore performance that neither of you would forget…

[mrhexumtfs]

I've met this guy from the UK, chav Kai. He's a total scallt and my type. And he just sent me this package from jd with some kinda trackies in it? What'd you think would happen if i tried them on?

The package wasn't just from JD alone. In fact, the products inside were from a collaboration between JD's clothing line and Hexum Industries.

Which explains the pink box with the JD logo, now currently in your hands. Normally they just use a simple cardboard box.

You had told Kai that the package had arrived. Immediately, he sent you a link for Zoom through the Tumblr chat. Pressing the link, you were soon able to see his face.

How hard he could make you... It was almost embarrassing how much of an effect Kai had on you.

He was a total chav. The way he spoke... The way he wrote! It made it so obvious he wasn't a cultured man. Sometimes you even wondered if English was truly his first language, despite him being native to the UK.

Kai was a complete idiot. A dumbass with no parallel. Yet believed himself to be the smartest guy around. He was so confident, it tempted you to just accept whatever nonsense he spewed as gospel. After all, he loved to reward you. You still remember the dick pic he sent you. Unkempt, wild reddish and blond pubes, pale thighs at the bottom of the picture. Low hanging balls. And a huge dick. Girthy, slightly curved to the left, and uncut.

It was a porn star kind of cock. Almost too big to be real... More than once you had dreamed of it. Of flying to the UK, kneeling in front of Kai just to worship such an exquisite prick...

Now, regrettably, you weren't facing his wonderful cock. But his smug face. He had a Burberry cap on. Wss also wearing a fake Lacoste polo, and a tracksuit jacket over it. He was smoking. He always was.

"I was like... Waiting for ya to get m'gift, bruv? And, like, now ya got it. So open it, bruv. They're proper clothes, check 'em out." he said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth, as he looked at you. "Be a good lad and rush. I'm sure you'll look proper fit, honest!"

Wasn't his accent so hot?

You opened the box, finding a gray tracksuit, black t-shirt, white Adidas socks, white sneakers and a silver chain. As well as gray Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

These weren't the kind of clothes you normally wore. Yet you recognized them. It was the kind of fashion a chav such as Kai would sport every day. It made you hold your breath with awe and excitement.

After all, you weren't a chav yourself. You were American. You were educated, currently doing a post grad. A life built for wealth and success... Completely unlike a chav's, who merely tried to imitate wealth without ever succeeding. Perhaps that's what made this so special. Perhaps that's what made this feel like the greatest gift you had ever gotten.

Because a proper chav was welcoming you. Allowing you to pretend, if for a second, that you were one of them.

It didn't matter there was a whole ocean between you and all the real chavs. You had always fancied them. You loved how they looked, how they spoke. Their vulgar and lower class simplicity. The abundant stupidity of their appearance, yet always enhanced by a certain masculinity that was so unique to them.

How many times had you fantasized about becoming one of them? Alone, at night, only accompanied by your trusty hand? You even loved imagining the dehumanizing way wealthier people would treat you, or think of you, were you to become a proper chav.

Meeting Kai, thusly, had always felt like a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it gave you an opening to see the world like a chav could and did. But it was a curse too, because it reminded you how you'd never be one of them.

This package? This gift? It was the nicest thing Kai could have ever done for you.

"Don't stand there lookin' thick, luv!" Kai said, interrupting your musings with a laugh. "Get off yer clothes! Let me take a proper look at ya! Then, you'll try 'em clothes on. Model them for me. How does that sound, bruv? It'll be a proper time, innit?"

Cheeks heated up as you nodded.

This was different to anything you had done before. One thing was to send and receive pics. But to get undressed in front of him? Sure, it was through a zoom meeting, but it felt so... Meaningful. So trascendental. Like this marked a before and after on your relationship with Kai. Were you truly ready for this?

You knew you would obey him. Not only because you wanted to. But also because you loved the idea of this ignorant sexy man giving you orders. A complete reversal of the real order of things. Were this in person, most would see you as above him.

No one had to know what you did in private.

First you shirt went off. A nice button up. It looked nice on you. Made you look professional.

Then the pants. Fancy dress pants. Somehow you knew they wouldn't look fancy at all if Kai was the one wearing them. Class and the features of his face were like water an oil. They repelled each other quite strongly.

Socks went next. You made sure to raise your feet up, so he got a view of how the nice dark fabric slid down your skin. Doing so for both feet.

Finally, your underwear. There was no reason not to get it off. He had already seen your dick before. And, besides, you were so hard right now that it was pointless to hide how excited you were from this. The bulge was so prominent enough it was impossible for Kai not to notice it.

Thus, you were naked. Kai was nodding, obviously appreciating the view. He was taking a drag from his cigarette.

"What a view, bruv. Yer a proper lookin' lad, so you are," he said, after exhaling the smoke. "Why don't ya turn around so I get to see ya whole, hmm? Gotta enjoy the view since I can't touch ya from here."

Biting your lip, you obliged.

You didn't go too fast. Allowing Kai some time to inspect your naked body. He whistled in approval, clearly enjoying this whole experience.

"The clothes, bruv. Try 'em on. It'll be like yer a proper chav like me. Promise ya that," he said, with a smile that should have made you pause.

Yet whatever hesitation or suspicion you may have had was utterly silenced by your horniness. The idea of becoming a chav, even if only as a role playing thing, was simply too arousing to ruin it with any kind of cynicism. Kai obviously couldn't have any ill intentions. What could he even do to you when he was on a completely different continent?

You took the Calvin Klein briefs. Were they real? Honestly, you couldn't say. They had to be new, right? But there were some flaws on the manufacturing that made you question that perhaps... Oh, who cared? This was about immersion, not perfect logic. So what if they were fake? Or if they were badly made? It would make the idea of becoming a chav all the more authentic.

Right?

They slid easily in place. Hugging your bottom very nicely. Playful, you moved your hips, showing your now clothed ass to the camera as you moved it from right to left.

And as you did so, your ass changed.

Both ass cheeks were inflating. Pushing the fabric outwards. It made you stop in shock. Looking at your own image on the zoom call, you witnessed your butt cheeks swelling. Until they were round, perfectly spherical. You now had an undeniable bubble butt. One of the nicest you've ever seen.

"This doesn't make any sense! What's happening to my butt...?" you asked, in shock. Was this a prank? Had Kai sent you boxer briefs with inflatable padding, or something of the sort?

A quick check was enough to prove that hadn't been the case. On the contrary, your butt had simply grown on its own. How? You had no explanation. Kai seemed awfully calm about it. Was he responsible? Or were you just imagining it?

Changes hadn't stopped however. For suddenly the briefs weren't as tight as they had become instant ago. You checked you ass, to see if the swelling had diminished to any degree, but no. Your new bubble butt remained unchanged.

That meant...

Looking at your bulge, you were devastated. As quickly as your ass had grown, your cock and balls were dwindling away! Hooking your thumbs on the waistband, you checked the damage. Whatever you had between your legs was not what you were familiar with. It was so small! An uncut tiny cock. Tiny even though it was as hard as it could be. It couldn't be more than three inches. Part of you feared it was closer to two!

And your balls? They had also shrunk. The whole ball sack higher and tighter. As if they had never dropped at all.

"Don't worry, bruv!" Kai said, with a grin that made you shudder. "I like my lads with tiny pricks. Makes 'em love my huge hog even more. Every one of 'em love to be dwarfed by me, honest!"

Shouldn't you be upset? Part of you was sure you should have. Yet Kai's words had made your devastation disappear as if it had never been there. Plus, it didn't matter how big your cock was. What mattered was how you used it. And since you liked guys like Kai to be in control... Well, you didn't need to use it for much beyond cumming.

No one needs a big cock for that. If anything, it may be easier to cum now than ever before...

"Put on the trousers now, luv!" he instructed, giving another drag to his cigarette.

Smiling... Because you were smiling for some reason, you followed his order. Taking the gray sweatpants, you put them on. Making sure the camera of your laptop was angled in such a way Kai could see you do it without any obstruction.

At first glance, the pants looked too big. Or maybe just too long? You just knew they wouldn't fit right. Not enough to complain. After all you were grateful that Kai had thought about giving you clothes to live your fantasy of being a chav. Even if just for pretend. If he had gotten the wrong measurement, it was an honest and easily forgivable mistake.

Yet, as you put them on... They seem to fit just right. It didn't make much sense, compared with the pants your had earlier. This pair was clearly longer and...

Why did the room feel smaller?

Checking your legs again, they looked longer. The fancy pair of pants... Of trousers look too small for you now.

Your legs weren't just longer, however. They had a really nice shape now. The shape of a man who plays soccer... No, football every weekend with his friends... Nice, well toned muscle, filled in the best of ways. Your thighs were just thick enough for your massive butt to make sense.

"What a sight, bruv. Yer shaping just right. Go on now. Get the shirt on, mate!" Kai said, distracting you again from your thoughts.

And so you put on the t-shirt. Immediately your physique began to change underneath. Lean, but in shape. Your pecs protruding enough to be considered as such. The t-shirt was tight, showing the trim shape of your torso exactly as it was now.

A sure bet was to say you spine had lengthened. The room looked smaller again. How tall were you now? Somehow you felt you had to be 6'1" feet tall. Maybe a bit more. Definitely not less.

Kai didn't let you get distracted with how much you had grown. He reminded you to keep putting on the clothes he had sent you. And so, you put on the jacket of the tracksuit. As you did, your arms changed. Although still lean, as the rest of your body, they filled with muscle. The muscles of a real man... The muscles of a working lad...

It was funny. Normally you would describe yourself as skinny. That wasn't inaccurate now. But, it was different. Now you were toned too. Trim. Like a man who wasn't just thin, no. You were strong. You were masculine. And you knew how to use these lean muscles when the occasion called for it.

Next were the socks. Kai reminded you. What would you do without him? He was so good at giving orders. It was so easy to just obey him, to just do whatever he wanted. Even if it was obvious. You were getting dressed, and your feet were still bare. Of course you needed your socks! But you hadn't thought about it yet. Not until he said to put them on.

Then the sneakers. They looked so much bigger than your usual shoes. In fact, they were next to each other. The sneakers were easily three sizes bigger. Surely they wouldn't fit? They had to be too big... There was no other possibility...

You hadn't given any of your measurements to Kai, now that you thought about it. Why had he bought you clothes? There was something weird about that, wasn't there? Then again, maybe he was just being nice... Kai always knew what to do... Why assume any ill intent?

Somehow, despite your scepticism, the sneakers were the right fit. They were huge, and yet... They weren't too big. If anything they felt a little snug. Well, you just had to break them in! All shoes were a bit snug at the beginning, weren't they?

"Yer almost ready, luv!" Kai said, as he finished his cigarette. "Only one thing left. Only one thing until you look like a proper chav!"

You laughed. Oh, how much you wanted to believe him! But you knew things didn't work that way. Clothes didn't make the man despite the saying. Your hair certainly was too dapper for that. Your eyes looked too intelligent. And you were healthy. Never smoked. Never drank. This was all pretend. Nothing more.

You took the chain in your hands. It was a nice one. Not something you'd consider using if it weren't for Kai's kindness and encouragement. Looking at the image of your face, as well as Kai's, on the screen of your laptop, you decided to put the chain on.

Eyes widened as soon as you did. It was unbelievable! Your face began to shift almost immediately! So did your hair!

The face was masculine, yet young. Younger than you were, at least. Not that you were old, at twenty three. You just felt younger, as if you had just turned twenty recently. The irises of your eyes had also changed. They were lighter now. Green? Blue? Maybe Gray? It didn't matter. Whatever color they now sported, it wasn't the usual brown you had grown up with.

Your new beard was something you felt proud of. Although, in your heart of hearts, you knew you shouldn't be. It clearly wasn't full, and it would take a lot of time to look like a proper beard. If ever. But it didn't matter how wispy your facial hair was. It was a way lf showing how manly you truly were. That was more valuable than anything.

As for your hair? You now had a fade. On the sides and the back. All the length was at the top. Still short, mostly messy. And you thought it was lighter too. Closer to blond than to black, even if it was still brown.

Overall, you were unrecognizable. Even to your own eyes, you didn't look like the American doing a post grad. But like the a regular chav from the UK. If you sat next to Kai at a pub, no one would see anything worth paying attention.

It was impossible to help the smile forming on your face. Your teeth! They were different too! Slightly crooked, not as white. They did look healthy overall, but in a more natural way. A guy with such teeth probably never needed braces.

"Woah, bruh! Look at that. I'm a proper chav now, innit?" you claimed, ecstatic.

Only to cover your mouth in shock. What was that? You hadn't intended to speak like a chav! In fact, any time you had tried to use the accent before—always alone—you did multiple and obvious mistakes. Your accent now was identical to Kai's!

Even the register was different. Deeper. Slower. Rumbly. With a lazy, almost clumsy way of saying each word.

"Bloody hell! Is that me voice, bruv?" you asked, looking at the screen, looking at the ever smiling Kai for any sort of explanation.

"It is, luv. So it is," he said, as if he was the wisest of men. "Exactly what ya wanted, I'm sure. To become one of the lads! And that I did, so I did."

Although the marvel you were feeling was great, that still gave you pause. What did he mean? How could he have done this? Magic wasn't a real thing, so it's not like...

Wait. Why were you denying magic's existence? You looked completely different! You sounded completely different! In no way you could recognize yourself anymore. No one could!

And... Why was it so hard to think about anything? Something here was fishy. It had to be. You just couldn't figure it out. A part of you knew it had to be obvious, yet any time the conclusion felt on your grasp, it just seemed to promptly fly away out of your reach.

"The package, me dafty!" Kai said, with a chuckle. "That's what changed ya, luv. I chose the clothes meself. It was like so great too. This clerk bloke told me I needed to see these magical clothes. That they'd 'life changing' or whatever. Didn't believe 'em. Why would I? But cheap it was, so I bought' em. Cheaper than any other clothes I e'er bought, bruv. And now I saw how it made you into a chav just like me! Well, almost... Couldn't have me fella be any smarter than me, could I, luv?"

Just like him...

No. That couldn't be true! Sure, the idea of becoming a chav was hot. But as long as it was skin deep. The way Kai described the transformation... It didn't sound so superficial. If your intelligence was on the line...

Your stomach plummeted. You were proud of your smarts. Of your effort, of your education. The idea of losing them was hot, certainly. But only as a fantasy. Actually experiencing it was a other matter entirely.

But were you really dumber? Perhaps Kai was just being cheeky. Laughing at your needless panic. There had to be a way of turning back right? There was no way Kai had transformed you permanently without asking you. And he had no way of telling of you were any stupider... Or did he? You couldn't be sure.

This had to be a role playing thing. It simply had to be.

"Don't worry, bruv. Don't stress that smooth brain of yers. Yer too thick now. And it's only going to get worse. Betcha ya don't even remember a thing 'bout what you've studied, huh?" Kai's voice was trying to be soothing, but they only felt chilling.

"I do remember!" you yelled, yet your deeper voice sounded uncertain. "I studied for years, bruv. Years! I ain't so thick as you say... I'm proper smart, I am! Like, for example..."

Suddenly your mind was blank. You couldn't remember a thing of what you've studied. Not even the basics. Even the most introductory of lectures had completely been erased from your brain.

You stepped back, unable to say a word. Eyes widened in panic. This couldn't be! You were smart! You were educated!

But were you?

Memories of going to college were quickly disappearing from your mind. The idea of doing a post grad was ridiculous. Not only because you were too young, but also because you couldn't even recall finishing high school anymore. Did you? Honestly you couldn't tell.

You just knew you didn't study for your A levels... Wait a minute! You weren't British! You'd never even have the chance to try those tests! Instead you had to... As all Americans, you had to...

What did you had to do? What did you do?

"Fuck, bruv! I can't... I can't remember shite," you said. "It's like I never went to college, bruv. What did ya do to me?"

"What ya wanted, luv," Kai replied, laughing. "Didn't ya say it? How hot ya thought us chavs were. How hot it'd be to become one of us. There's no point on complaining, mate. This is yer life now."

"That's not... It can't be true, bruv! It just can't!"

Your voice didn't sound convincing at all. It was hard not to simply believe was Kai was saying. Of course you liked the idea of being a chav. But only when it was a fantasy, when there weren't any real consequences. When you wouldn't lose everything just to embody this erotic drea..

"But it is, luv. Proper truth, I swear," Kai replied, taking a final drag of his cigarette, and then blowing the smoke towards the camera. "I can prove it, even. Try to tell me yer name. Just try. I assure ya, you won't remember it."

A smile formed on your lips. Of course you remembered your name. It was... It was... What was it?

"It's Jayden, bruv. It is now, that is," Kai said. "Suits ya. A good name for a proper chav such as yerself."

You shook your head. That wasn't your name! It couldn't be...

Yet every time you tried to remember your real name, none other appeared. Only Jayden. Your surname was different too. Something common. Something a working class lad could have that would not raise anyone's eyebrow.

"This can't be! It's not me name, bruv! I ain't a chav for real! It's the clothes, bruv! Just the clothes! I'm a smart fella! I'm American, bruv!"

It was almost worth a face palm. Until now you hadn't been able to think about removing your new clothes. You were transformed from wearing them. It was only logical that removing them would reverse the effects. Or so you sorely hoped.

Perhaps you hadn't thought about it because they were so comfortable... As if they were made for you to wear... As if it was the proper thing for you to wear... Why would you want to go back to your stuffy clothes?

No! That wasn't what you truly believed in! You had to take these clothes off. Pronto. There was no other way of returning to your original self.

"Just try, luv," Kai said, with a smirk that should be infuriating yet you couldn't help but find ridiculously hot. "Just try..."

Your hand immediately went to your pants trousers. You tried to pull them down and...

You weren't at home anymore.

In fact, you weren't even standing. Suddenly you were at the driver's seat of a car. How did you even get it in here? And when? It was so dark out. That didn't make sense. The sun was still up just a moment ago.

Kai's window showed it was night where he lived... Maybe...

No! That couldn't be it. You couldn't be suddenly transported to the UK, right? That was impossible. You were, like... How far was the US from the UK? It wasn't something you could remember, but at least you knew there was like a sea in between... Or was something else? Maybe a desert? That couldn't be right...

Bloody hell it was difficult to think!

Thankfully, the car was parked. Your level of agitation most certainly would have made you crash, otherwise. The question was: where were you? And why were you in this car?

It wasn't a nice car. Not only because it was dirty, with rubbish everywhere while also having an obnoxious cigarette smell. But also because the car looked old, and cheap. Something that had to be inherited, or bought second hand.

Looking outside, you were in the parking lot of an apartment building. Of a council state, to be precise. With a gulp, you left the car, wondering how would you get back home.

Or even if there was a home to return to.

Feeling lost, you leaned on the car. Your car, since you had the keys for it. It was locked now. It was your doing.

Not thinking about anything at all, you surprised yourself once you lighted a cigarette. Your new body was so used to the move, it hadn't required a conscious thought at all. It was almost scary.

Am I even myself? I can't recall a thing... Just Jayden, bruv... I'm just Jayden...

Such a thought made you crave the soothing feeling smoking gave. Closing your eyes, you surrendered yourself to this addiction an hour ago you would have not partaken in at all.

It felt so natural now.

"Oi! Jayden, luv! Why are ya all alone here, bruv? Let's go home, I need that mouth of yers on my prick," Kai said, standing next to you.

Kai... He was... Next to you.

That's impossible! He was in England and you... You... Where were you supposed to be? You knew you weren't British! That you weren't truly a chav! There had to be a way of...

His hand caressed your cheek. Your knees weakened, your eyes lost on the vulgar charm of his features. How handsome was he! How wonderful was he! Why would you be upset about him being close?

You were the best of mates. He was the love of your life. Shouldn't you be happy he's here with you? That he's generous enough to love you back?

"Kai..." you said, a stupid smile blooming on your face while a smirk appeared on his.

"Yes, it is me, ya dunce! Now let's go home, luv. I need yer pretty lips on my prick, not sucking a fag."

A part of you still thought about the other meaning of that last word. But as he guided you upstairs, you couldn't remember what it was supposed to be. No bother! It wasn't ike you were a smart guy, anyways. Kai probably knew. He always knew better than you did.

The apartment wasn't a surprise. Almost spartan due to how bare it looked. No decorations, minimal furniture. The only visible luxuries were a big TV, with a PS5 you and Kai were still paying with your job as binmen, as well as an old laptop with a just finished zoom call. Yet there wasn't a sofa, just two plastic chairs. There was some rubbish around, mostly boxes from takeout and used beer cans.

The bedroom wasn't any better. It was so messy. It smelled so bad... Yet how familiar and, thusly, comforting that felt! Dirty clothes everywhere, more beer cans, old gay porn magazines scattered on the floor. And the bed? Didn't have a frame. The sheets weren't properly in place.

They smelled like cum and sweat. And smoke. The best smells in the world, if anyone were to ask you!

"We're pigs," you said. It wasn't a complaint, nor a celebration. A simple statement of the facts. A declaration that felt almost too important for how simple it had been.

Kai looked at you with amusement.

"If it bothers ya, luv, ya can always act like a maid and tidy up. I'm chuffed with how things are, bruv. This is how men live proper. I won't move a finger to change a thing."

"It'd be bollocks, luv," you agreed, nodding with a dopey grin.

"So it is," Kai said, holding your face. "Now get in yer knees, and show me what that pretty mouth of yers can do."

And you did. You so did.

---

A week later, when you arrived home, you couldn't help but be remknded this hadn't always been your life. There had been a time when you weren't a dumb chav. You had been an intelligent American man, one who had dignity and a future.

That life was completely gone now. You had barely remembered it had happened this whole week. Since blowing Kai's cock that first night, you had not thought about who you used to be once. Not until now.

You should be frightened. You should be furious. You were about to be somebody, but now...

Now you're Kai's bruv. You're Kai's obedient pet. Always ready to please him, always ready to suck his huge dick (so much bigger than your own, which you loved), always ready to shag no matter the circumstance. Your ass was made to be claimed. So Kai said, and if he did, it had to be true.

Whoever you were before, it didn't exist anymore. You're now just Jayden. You always were and you always will be. Jayden, a dumb chav, destined to a life of poverty and ignorance. And a worshipful lover of Kai.

This was your biggest dream, back then. And now, it was also your truth. Until the day you died, and perhaps even beyond that.

But for now, you had to rest. The work day had been long, and you knew Kai would return. Horny and ready to use you as he liked.

You had wished for this, and you were too dumb to regret it.

[adonker811-deactivated20191230]

I woke up from my nap on the couch, with my roommate straddling my waist and shoving a musky shoe over my nose and mouth. What was happening? Did I piss him off? I couldn’t get out from under him, as he was a jock and had more strength than me. “Jimmy, bro, stop fighting, I’m tryin’ to help you.” “MmmmFFfgHH!!” I muffled, forced to take in more gasps of this rank shoe. I started to feel light headed, and my body began to tingle. My mind felt clouded.. “Fuck yea, dawg!” My eyes rolled up as I writhed on the couch, my roomie still wrapped around my waist, the shoe pinned to my face, though I was no longer fighting it as I willingly huffed the scent of jock feet, soon grinding my crotch into his as my cock swelled and stiffened. “Damn, bro….your dick feels dope!” he said. I wasn’t gay, but I felt mesmerized and horny and didn’t care about anything but feeling good. And fuck, he was starting to grind his hard dick into mine…was this turning me on? “Fuck yea, bro…fuckin’ grindin’ our dicks feels good, yea?” “Fuck yea, bro..” I heard myself say into the shoe. Bro? I never used that stupid word! I didn’t maintain a 4.0 this semester so I could talk like a retard! Just then, I could feel something crawling all over my legs, ass and arms. I lazily glanced over at my arm to see hairs sprouting from my once smooth body. I could feel my ass crawling with hair as it spread down the backs of my calves. “Yo, what up with,…..” I moaned as my body felt like it was beginning to vibrate. My ass began to swell, filling in my shorts, and then straining them as they rode up my legs. My hairy quads and calves spasmed as muscles began to bulge. The shoe finally off my mouth, though I missed the scent of it, I could feel my dick growing larger, and drooling pre, soaking through my shorts. I couldn’t help it. My jock roomie rubbing his hot cock against mine…what do you expect? “Lets get this shirt off, bro.” My shirt was already riding up my stomach and feeling tight against my torso. I peeled it off and saw my new pecs inflating, nipples hard, abs bulging… and my armpits were full of thick hair. “Aw, shit…dawg, I’m fuckin jacked!” I heard my self say. “Fuck yea, nigga! No more wasting yer life a virgin nerd doin stupid shiznit!” he said. Shiznit..thats so cute. I liked how he talked. As I grinned at him, suddenly feeling this urge to kiss a jock, I could feel my shoes bulging, my feet suddenly feeling cramped. Everything was getting tight.  I looked over my roomie at my feet, which looked squeezed into my shoes, the outlines of my foot bulging as the fabric compressed them. I saw the leather bulge and buckle as my size 9 feet were swelling to 10′s, then 11′s.  The shoe tops started to separate from the soles as thick toes, heel, and the whole damn foot just exploded out. We both watched my feet grow to a size 15 thick. It was…fuck, it turned me the fuck on. “Fuck, bro!..” I shouted. “Dawg, dem feet is beast!” he said I’m fuckin hard. Leaking n shit. I had my roomie suck my fat cock off. I flunked out of college and shit, but it was fuckin gay. Me and my bro started a tanning salon, so its all good. I don know where he got that fuckin shoe, but I returned the favor one night while fuckin him. Bros got big ass feet like mine, now.  Fuckin beast!

[muscular-fantasies]

Hey, could you help me? I’m a 5”11, British guy who’s put on a little weight recently. I’d love to know how it feels to become an all American how and sexy jock who can get lots of attention from guys until next year. Any chance you can help?

You thought it was a joke when the jocks from the dormroom across gave you a cap and told you it was your introduction to the pack. They had to be joking, a cap.. that would make you fit in with those big muscular jocks of Viri Sexus Alpha.

What was worse was they pulled you inside and threw you into the bathroom, blocking it from the other side, until you put on the cap. You had inspected it, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except the deep musk coming from it. It smelled like all the guys of the dorm had ejaculated in it.

"Dude put it on already so you can join, King Alex is already wet and wants to be your first." A rumbling voice yelled.

You were scared of what it meant, but if you put it on, maybe you could dash out before they could grab you.. hmm like a small chubby guy, could outmaneuver these greek gods. Knowing you didn't have a choice you put on the cap.

As the cum stains, touched your head, all your stress and fear left. Replaced by a dumb chuckle.. "hu haha.. Dude I'm fucking wet.. Alex better fuck my brains out!" You yelled back, giving a quick flex in the mirror.

[mrhexumtfs]

Monotony wasn't something you were bothered by. On the contrary, a life consisting mostly of repetition felt rather comfortable and safe. But, as it tends to happen, such environments do produce some longing to discover what the big wide somewhere could offer.

You had just arrived home after a busy day. Classes, internship, and office work. Even if your body wasn't exhausted, your brain certainly begged for some kind of rest. It had gotten to the extreme of seeing Excel columns and formulas any time you closed your eyes.

Some relaxation was in order, pronto.

Yet, not always we get what we want. Relaxation seemed to leave as soon as you entered. Since you had barely gotten inside when you saw them.

Brownies. On your kitchen counter. With a note next to it saying from which store it was: Mr. Hexum's pastry shop. And while you had ordered from said store, you didn't remember receiving the brownies themselves. So exactly why were they there, unpacked? You certainly hadn't done this. And there wasn't anyone else that could.

Right?

Getting closer you inspected the brownies. They smelled like chocolate. And something else, of which you couldn't really be precise about. Something so appealing, so mouth watering, you caught yourself drooling. Embarrassed, you cleaned the saliva with the back of your hand. Normally you weren't like this. You were disciplined! This was completely out of character.

Yet, this momentary setback hadn't diminished in any way your temptation. At all. You had already forgotten you were supposed to be wary of the brownies. If they were this appealing, obviously they couldn't be bad... Hopefully.

You took one. Eating it wouldn't hurt, right? There was nothing to be afraid of...

Never had you been so relaxed as when you tasted it. Sweet just in the perfect measure, with the slight hint of bitterness that balanced and enhanced the sweetness. And, there was something herbal about the aftertaste. Nothing invasive, it was so subtle missing it would be easy. But you had noticed it. It was the best part. It made everything feel even better, somehow.

Still, you couldn't figure why your brownies would have such an aftertaste, however. Alas! It was pleasant, so incredibly pleasant. You not only didn't mind it, but you enjoyed it quite a lot. Could it be your new favorite taste? Most likely, you thought.

"Maybe I should rest my eyes a bit," you said with a yawn, after finishing the first brownie. Four remained untouched.

Yet moving proved a lot of effort suddenly. So, slowly, laughing at nothing, staring at the distance as if there was something there worth anyone's attention, you basically floated until reaching your own bed.

You didn't remember falling asleep.

No alarm woke you up. On the contrary, you felt the sun all over your face. With a groan, you turned around, seeking the shade to continue sleeping. But then horror struck. The sun? No alarm? What had happened?

Your phone was on the nightstand. Missed alarms. Missed calls. It was 1 PM. Somehow you had slept through it all. You had missed all morning classes, and you barely had enough time to get to your internship. And that was if you got lucky on the drive there.

Running like a madman, while trying to convince yourself that missing a day of class wasn't the end of the world, you tried to get ready. Quickest shower you ever took; shaving in record time, somehow evading to cut yourself in the process; and then taking one of the suits you had prepared during the weekend.

Only that it didn't fit.

That was odd. You had stopped growing a while ago, and definitely you hadn't gain any significant weight lately. So how was this possible? Whatever the answer was, you took the suit off and tried another one. The same thing happened. You tried again, only to experience the same outcome.

With a deep breath, and with plenty of annoyance, you took off the third suit and tried to put on the same clothes as yesterday... And they didn't fit either.

Going to the full length mirror in your room, you realized why nothing was fitting. Over night, you had changed. Not much, not really that noticeable at first glance—explaining why you hadn't noticed until now —. But it was there.

You were taller. A few inches. Your shoulders were just slightly broader, your posture a few degrees straighter and cockier. The slim physique you were used to looked just a bit more filled out with muscle.

"What the...?" you asked, touching your face as you leaned towards your reflection.

Even your face was different. A bit more structured, broader. As if someone had injected you charisma overnight. It was like looking at an edited photo of yourself but in real time.

Then a text. You took your phone, still confused by all this weird changes you had no explanation for. The office where you did the internship gave you the day free. You didn't continue reading to see why.

Well... That's handy, isn't it? You thought, trembling as you sat in your bed. It didn't feel right, specially when you has missed your classes. Suddenly the world was upside down, and you didn't know what to do.

It seemed ridiculous to think you had ruined your life but... Why did it feel like that was the case? You just... Would have never done something like this. You didn't feel like yourself at all.

On the other hand... Maybe this wasn't so bad. You were pretty tired from doing so much work, barely stopping unless you had no choice but to. Wouldn't it be nice to just... Rest? Chill for today? It wasn't like you were going to throw your future to the trash because you had one free day to do nothing... Even if it felt that way.

Putting on something more comfortable—some exercising clothes that were too big for you yesterday, but now fit perfectly, that you had gotten on a unlucky online purchase—, you went to the kitchen. After your stomach rumbled, you took another brownie and ate it.

Somehow it tasted even better than yesterday. Probably because the herbal taste was even more intense. It was just so good. Made you feel so free and relaxed...

While this would have been a perfect opportunity to study, or try to help yourself with improving at work, there was an itch in you to do something entirely different. And so, you soon found yourself at the nearest gym. Something called you to it.

Before today you really hadn't worked out much. There was little need for it, and your time was already accounted for more important things. Studying, talking with teachers, your internship, networking... In a way, this was you reclaiming the freedom your had lost to your obligations. It wouldn't hurt to go to the gym, would it? It was healthy and all... Just a place to disconnect your brain and let your body do everything it needed to do...

A rest for the brain and a workout for the body. The opposite of your usual day, where you sat all day and used your mind endlessly.

It was already sunset when you remembered to check the time. You had worked out all afternoon. Completely covered in sweat, and somehow barely tired. It didn't make sense, you had used every machine the gym offered. For a novice you should be begging to go to bed. Yet, you felt you could continue going for hours.

Shaking your head, you decided to go to the showers. You took off your tank top, feeling the need to stupidly putting it over your head. Was it funny? Normally you would say no, yet now you couldn't help but chuckle... You never were this ridiculous. Always too self conscious. This was what freedom was all about, bro!

Something made you stop dead. Your reflection... It wasn't you. Well, it was, but it had changed so much compared to who you were yesterday...

Taller, hairier, more handsome. With clear muscle mass you certainly shouldn't have been able to produce on a singular day. There was still some essence of who you used to be, but it was barely there. Even you had trouble recognizing yourself.

I look good, damn... Despite knowing this was bad, that you should be panicking, your mind was as serene as a still lake. It was hard to be mad about this involuntary transformation when you were turning out so hot. Literally getting all the benefits of working out without the need of putting so much of the effort...

Why did you need to be so disciplined at everything? Why couldn't just relax a bit? Be free... Be free of all responsibilities? Be free of thinking all the time?

That wasn't right. You decided to stop marveling at your new reflection, and quickly ran to the showers. The stink from your sweaty body was intense, almost making you nauseous. How could you be so stinky? You never were before. This new body felt so different from your usual clean cut self...

Once naked, you wondered if you really needed to shower... Wouldn't it be nice to just go home like this? But you ignored the call of laziness, and got inside. Plus, wasn't this a great opportunity to explore this new physique?

You began looking down, while water fell over your head. Feet were bigger, wider. Enough to wonder why they weren't hurting while using your sneakers. Had they changed as well? It didn't really matter at the moment. You just hoped they would fit when you put them back on... Way more interesting were your calves. They were so well built. Clearly, you weren't missing leg day... Or whatever magic that was responsible for this wasn't missing it.

Being precise about the subject made your head ache. Whatever was causing this was way too complicated to understand it. It was better to ignore it and just accept it was happening. Logic wasn't there to help you, just make you put unnecessary effort you didn't want to make.

Your thighs were so beautifully thick. Mostly muscle. Quads rubbing each other any moment you moved your legs. It was strangely erotic. As if each thigh had became a lover's hand obsessed with the most intimate of caresses.

This new body felt so much more sexual. Like it was made to be fucked in a way your original self had never been...

Butt cheeks were also better than before, like your calves. They were ubbly, with enough fat to bounce, and with enough muscle to keep a firm shape. You now owned the type of ass that you had always adored on other men. An ass that you now got to worship any time you wanted... To grab any time you were alone. Maybe with a mirror behind you...

Sadly, your cock had remained the same, for the most part. Was it perhaps a little thicker? Or was it just wishful thinking? Truth was, you couldn't say for certain.

Eventually you left the gym. It was dark outside.

Back home you decided to eat another brownie. You knew you shouldn't, but they were so good... So relaxing... You hadn't eaten a proper meal all day. And brownies weren't a good way of maintaining your new muscles.

Now there was only two brownies left.

But cooking... That felt like too much work. So, as you ate the brownie, you ordered some take out. Booting up a game on your otherwise work only laptop while you waited. It was your free day! And you hadn't played in so long...

Pizza aarrived later. After paying you immediately got to eat, your hands all greasy as you continued playing the game. You weren't good at it. Both from a lack of practice and skill. Your brain felt slower than usual, and you got distracted so easily... It didn't matter, however. This wasn't about being good, it was about having fun. Using your free time as you wanted to.

Waking up was confusing the next day. For one, you didn't remember when you went to sleep, in the same way you hadn't yesterday. But something else was weird too. You weren't laying on the same bed you always had. Instead, you were on a mattress laying directly over the floor.

It didn't smell good.

Looking around you saw you weren't at your room. But rather, at a familiar basement. Your parents' basement, to be precise. How was that possible? You had moved away years ago already. And even if you had visited them overnight, without remembering you did so, why wouldn't you stay in your childhood bedroom?

It wasn't adding up... And yet, you didn't care. You were fine, so... Did it even matter how you got here?

You didn't want to leave the bed. Somehow you felt it was way too early to do so. Lazily, you rolled towards your charging phone. It was about 2 PM. You had missed class again. And you were definitely late for your internship.

"Ugh, they'll understand... It's not like I have to go every day..." you said, yawning. How late had you been gaming? Truly, you couldn't tell. You deserved the rest, anyhow.

Your losing streak definitely needed some recovery time. Having greasy meaty fingers and a slower brain didn't make an E-sports player. Of that you were sure.

Going upstairs you were met with a cold breakfast. Your parents had left for work, but clearly loved you enough to make something for you. There were still some brownies available too. Seemingly, your parents hadn't tried any of them. Weird... They're delicious... They don't know what they're missing...

You heated up whatever needed to be warm, while eating another brownie. You needed the calories, alright? Besides, you had to finish them eventually. Now there were only one left.

As you finished eating the chocolate pastry, you began to giggle. You didn't know what was so funny. And thinking felt so much slower... Even more than before... How had you gotten so far in life? College took so much effort... And an internship? So boring, so hard... Why did you even bother?

"Gotta work out, bro," you said, grinning. No one but you was there. There was no need to announce it. No one but you cared.

Soon you were back at the gym. Well, a different one. Close to your parents house instead of the place you used to live at but yesterday.

It was only when you were hours into your workout you remembered that you hadn't warned the office you wouldn't go today. Not like you had a real excuse for your absence. Sure, somehow you had moved back your parents' house overnight without realizing it, but like that didn't have to affect work, right? People moved all the time.

And you were farther from the office. But like, not terribly so...

Realistically, you knew you should probably be a bit more responsible. You should have at least sent a message, even if to lie. But since you hadn't... Well, then you should at least keep what you were doing a secret, no? There wasn't a better way of losing your internship than to get caught actively missing work.

But... You wanted to record and shoot photos of yourself. You were so hot! And it was easy... Easy money too, you hoped... With a body like yours, you could get any guy to spend a few bucks on you, right?

Using the chance that this new gym had a sauna, you decided take at least some few pics there. Cropped to the exact millimeter to be acceptable online.

After all, you were all sweaty... Your hair was a mess. Even though these were photos, you could tell you stank. Which you did. You so did. It was the smell of a real man... Of a real guy who knew how to use his body... Not like a boring guy wanting to work on an office and who couldn't even pop his pecs... Or flex his biceps... Or lift weights...

Despite your stench and the glimmering sweat over your skin, you didn't consider showering this time. It was too much of an effort, really. And besides, you only remembered you could shower when you had already left the gym.

Plus, your manly smell was like a reward. Not something to get rid off. Perhaps when you got successful enough you could sell bottles with your sweat...

Back home, you felt so horny. Maybe it was the manly musk from your own body. Or perhaps it was that you hadn't jerked off in a while. The reason didn't matter, not really. You just wanted to get into bed and goon.

Only one brownie was left. Still on the kitchen counter. Still as appealing as the day it just arrived. Fuck, it made you hungry. You were hungry and horny, and that needed to be resolved at once.

You took the brownie with you down to the basement you now called home.

Undressing, you threw yourself in bed with a satisfied sound. Looking for a porn video to watch on your phone, while the other held the yet to be eaten brownie. Once you found the video, pressing play with high anticipation, your left the phone at a side. Your now free hand going for your already hard pecker.

Stroking yourself, listening more than watching the video, you also began eating the last brownie. It may be messy, leaving crumbs all over the mattress, but it was the dream. The dream, bro! You were finally free to indulge on these slobby whims of yours. Without thinking about anything else but your worldly pleasures.

But things weren't as simple as you had hoped for.

As your hand went up and down, your cock... Well, didn't seem to remain the same. It wasn't going soft, of that you were sure. You'd never felt this horny before. But the tip of your cock didn't reach the same heights anymore...

Was it shrinking?

The thought almost made you stop. But you realized you didn't really care. It's way less effort to jerk off with a smaller cock anyway. And it made your muscles look even bigger! Perhaps it was even a good thing.

It wasn't like hot guys like yourself need big cocks. You had muscles, and that's was way better. Or was it backwards? Who cares, bro?

Soon you were ignoring the video. Instead watching as your cock retracted into itself without losing its rigidity. Your foreskin was growing back, covering the head more and more with each stroke.

Eventually your hand was too big. Your fist completely eclipsing your dick. You should have been terrified. Or upset. But it was the hottest thing that had ever happened to you. Another bite of the brownie, and your cock grew even shorter.

About to cum, you opened your fist. Your cock was now so small your palm was simply too big to use it to stroke yourself. Your dick threatened to slip out from your grip, and your mini strokes weren't helping much with relieving yourself. Mad comfy, though.

So you finally used just your index and thumb, at the same time you ate the last bit of the brownie. One final stroke, and you came.

It changed everything. Even more than anything that came before.

Ropes of cum shot upwards as you began to drool. As if your seed carried your intelligence alongside it. Your thoughts were slowing down. They were so slow, so spaced out. It was hard to believe you had put some much effort into academics just a few days before. Your brain wouldn't be able to handle such things anymore. You took pride on that. It was way better to be a dumb gym rat, right?

Your room grew messier. Stinkier. Sporty clothes everywhere. Unwashed, wrinkled, at least one on every surface. Your bed was undone, with brownie crumbs over the messy sheets. Workout equipment appeared on the room. For when you were too lazy to leave the house.

Notifications came from your phone. Your social media was now more important than before. Not that it was successful. Barely over 50 followers. Most of them older or overweight men who loved your content showing yourself be a sweaty gym rat.

One of them, however, was different.

An older man, yes, but wealthy. One who could spare giving you enough money to not work a single day in your life. One who was quite content with being a voyeur, of simply watching you waste your life.

He was your best follower. More of a client now, rather than a fan. He was the one who paid for everything you owned, almost.

What did he want from you? Videos. Photos. Private streams were you just did stuff for him to watch: touching yourself; working out: eating food you shouldn't be eating yet somehow had not affected your definition. Anything that showed your superficiality and slobby laziness.

And tonight? Tonight he was going to visit you, at last.

You hadn't cleaned. He wouldn't have liked it, and you couldn't be bothered anyway. Your parents had apparently left for a work trip. Or so you remembered now. The house was for yourself tonight. For yourself and this guy. Gene was his name.

A knock. You went to the front door, and opened it. He was there. Tall, well dressed. A successful and clean cut man. Outwardly the kind of successful individual you wanted to be... Before you became this muscle slob. Wasn't he...? Damn! He was the guy who owned the office you worked at!

How did you not remember him being this hot?

"You haven't showered, huh?" he said, smiling. Cupping your face with a possessiveness and condescension that made you hard instead of mad. "You could be so much more, but you don't want to. You won't put the effort in. You just want to be free, don't you? Free of thinking, free of responsibilities, free of being someone. You just want to exist like the dumb muscle slut that you are."

A nod. Dumb smile on your face. Gene closed the door behind himself. His eyes going all over you. Noticing you hadn't even bothered to dress. To clean yourself. Cum was all over your chest. And you stank so much.

"Is like there's nothing going in there," he said, looking at your eyes. "Completely empty. I always loved dumb men. But dear, you take the cake. Don't worry, I'll take care of you. You'll be free forever. You'll never worry about anything anymore. Just never change. Be mine. Be my little dirty boy, my slobby muscle slut..."

He then took a box from his pocket. Joints. Gene had weed. Damn, you wanted it. I need to chill... Need a joint, bro... You had never smoked weed. But now, it felt like a need.

Only then you realized the obvious. The brownies. The herbal taste... It was weed. Not normal weed, perhaps. But it was weed. You had been tricked! This wasn't you! It was a plot all along! Maybe there's still time to...

"Shhh," Gene said, passing a joint under your nose. It was enough to distract you. "Calm down, my dirty boy. I'll give you all the weed you want, if you behave. No need to get so agitated. Doesn't suit you, dear."

You nodded. Smiling again. Was there anything you ever needed to worry about? Gene had more brains that you ever would. He could just decide things for you. He was giving you money. And now he's giving you weed!

This man was a saint. A sex saint. One who thought you were hot and was going to give you the world to keep you dumb and high.

In other words, Gene wanted you to live the dream!

"Now open that mouth wide, dirty boy. Show me how dumb you actually are. Drool, and show me that mouth. If you're good you get to suck my cock, and I'll give you all these weed too. Isn't that a wonderful deal for you? It's literally a win win. You get everything in this deal. Is like the best deal in your life, is it not?"

It was, it so was.

And you were happy to obey:

---

Weeks later, by mere chance, you looked at your emails. A few of them caught your attention. One saying you were failing all your classes, due to absences and never doing any of the assignments and required tests. The other one saying you got kicked out of your internship, because not only had your grades gone down, you also hadn't showed up for way too long. Especially after discovering your thirst trap TikTok account.

You weren't professional anymore. And they didn't want you tarnishing the company name.

Old you would have been devastated. But new you? He only laughed stupidly. You didn't care about this stuff anymore.

"Good riddance, I ain't a thinker anyway," you said, deleting the emails. You lighted up a joint, laying in bed. "Gene thinks for me, and gets me weed. So, like, who needs a job? Not me, that's for sure."

You had finally received the freedom you longed for. To the world you were a dumb stoner who only worked on his body and nothing else. A guy with a tiny brain and even smaller cock that knew nothing but how to waste his life with weed and porn.

A man who loved to serve other men, because there was nothing else he was good for. You were lucky Gene let you suck his dick. He was such a generous soul. He didn't ask anything of you, and he gave you everything you wanted. How glad you were of being a dirty gym rat and stoner just for him!

Whoever you used to be was gone. Perhaps forever. But hey, at least you were free now. Free to continue wasting your life on mundane pleasures, never amounting to anything of substance. Free of the responsabilities and discipline that had once given your life meaning.

You were just a stoner, a slobby muscle slut. And somehow you were happy being just that. After all, you've never been more free... Or that's how you saw things now. Whether it was true or not, you weren't able to tell.

[buffsportbikeriders]

Even the dirt bike riders are super sexy!

[misctf]

How about one where a burnt out 30 y/o is just trying to save extra cash by door dashing, when he picks up an order from a new local Mexican place and meets the owner. Considering they’re a new spot, they probably need the help, so the owner alleviates the man of his door dash responsibilities by turning him into the new young, handsome, Latino line cook just trying to save extra cash while home from college.

"Another night, another dollar." Kyle muttered under his breath as he approached the newly opened Mexican joint.

His eyes were heavy, his mind foggy from exhaustion. Door-dashing had become his second job, helping him keep afloat while he pursued his true passion: graphic design. But at thirty years old, he felt like he was barely keeping his head above water.

"Hello!" Anna called out as soon as Kyle entered, her voice light and bright, "Are you here for that Door Dash?"

Her eyes flickered over his face, lingering, before skimming down to his chest. He shifted under her gaze, suddenly hyperaware of how sweat had soaked through his T-shirt during the last few deliveries.

"God she's hot." Kyle thought, a small smile forming on his lips.

Anna was tiny—maybe five feet even. Black hair twisted into a messy bun, flour dusting her apron. Gorgeous tanned skin and a beautiful smile.

"Yeah," Kyle said, cheeks turning red, "Order number 4872."

Anna nodded, wiping her hands on her apron before grabbing a plastic bag from behind the counter. "Here you go. Careful, it’s hot."

She handed him the food, their fingers brushing for a moment too long. Kyle cleared his throat. "Thanks."

But instead of letting him leave, Anna bit her lip, looking nervous. "Listen… we’re super busy tonight. Could you maybe…" Her eyes darted to the kitchen, where pans clanged and someone shouted in Spanish. "…help me carry some boxes to the back?"

Kyle hesitated. This was his last delivery of the day- he'd be home in bed after this, "I guess I could spare a minute," he said finally.

Anna beamed, leading him past the bustling kitchen to a storage room filled with cardboard boxes. "Just stack these against the wall, okay?" She pointed to a pile near the back.

As Kyle lifted a box labeled Tortillas, he caught a whiff of spices—cinnamon, chili powder, something sweet and musky underneath. His stomach growled. Maybe he’d grab a burrito after his shift…

When he set the box down, Anna was right beside him, closer than necessary. "Thank you," she murmured, her hand brushing his arm. "It’s been crazy since we opened. We’ve got this big event tomorrow, and…"

Her voice trailed off as she looked up at him through thick lashes. Kyle swallowed hard. Was she flirting with him? Or was he imagining things because he’d gone three months without sex?

Kyle’s pulse quickened as Anna leaned in, "Actually," she whispered, her lips nearly touching his ear, "there’s something else I need help with."

Before he could respond, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him deeper into the storage room, "What are you—"

The words died in his throat as Anna pressed him against the wall. Her hand slid up his chest, fingertips tracing the outline of his hairy chest. "Shhh," she breathed, her dark eyes locked on his, "Just let it happen."

Kyle’s breath hitched as unfamiliar sensations prickled his skin—his beard fading away until his face was smooth. He gasped as he felt a similar sensation course through his chest and stomach, as wiry chest hairs receded until his pectorals were smooth and defined.

"What the fuck?" His voice came out higher, lighter, younger. The change traveled downward—abdominal muscles carving themselves across his midsection, thighs thickening. Even his clothes seemed to shrink slightly, conforming to the sculpted shape beneath.

His skin felt warm as color flooded it—not pale white anymore, but warm olive tones. His sandy brown locks darkened to rich black. His nose sloped subtly, cheekbones lifting. His hazel eyes deepened to brown, and though familiar—still undeniably his—the reflection staring back was younger, more angular, with plumper, sultry lips.

"¡Javier! ¡Apúrate!" Anna called out, snapping Kyle—no, Javier—out of his stunned reverie. She gestured impatiently towards the kitchen. "We need you on the line, pronto!"

Still reeling, Javier found his feet moving of their own accord, carrying him into the bustling kitchen. The heat was intense, the air thick with sizzling meat and fragrant spices. Cooks yelled orders in rapid-fire Spanish, and somehow, miraculously, Javier understood every word.

"What the hell is happening?" he muttered in accented English. How was this possible? What was going on? When did he learn Spanish?

Hours passed- cooking, cleaning, prepping for tomorrow. And finally, Javier stumbled through the front door of his apartment. The events of the night replaying through his mind—the transformation, the sudden fluency in Spanish, the long hours cooking.

He collapsed onto his unmade bed, his muscles aching pleasantly. Javier ran a hand over his chest, marveling at the definition that hadn't been there this morning. "What the actual fuck," he muttered, drinking in the sight of his newly toned arms.

His palm slid lower, over the ridged abs, then dipped below the waistband of his jeans. Javier groaned as he palmed himself through the fabric, already rock hard. He'd never felt so aroused, so… eager. Hastily, he shimmied out of his pants and boxers, kicking them aside.

"This is insane," Javier panted, wrapping a hand around his throbbing cock. It was bigger than he remembered, cut perfectly, the shaft flushed a deep pink. He stroked himself with long, firm pumps, moaning the whole time.

But as pleasure coursed through him, other thoughts bubbled up unbidden. Flashes of a twink's pouty lips wrapped around his cock, warm and wet and eager. Of muscular, hairless bodies entwined, slick with sweat as they rutted against each other…

"Holy shit," Javier choked out, fisting himself harder, faster. Where were these gay fantasies coming from? He wasn't… he wasn't, "Fuckkkk…"

Javier came with a strangled cry, spilling over his fist and onto his taut stomach. As the waves of pleasure crested, panic set in. What was happening to him? These urges, these foreign desires flooding his mind… Exhaustion dragged at him and Javier fell back onto the pillow, his mind reeling. Tomorrow. He'd figure this out tomorrow. Surely it was just a weird dream, a hallucination brought on by lack of sleep and stress. Yeah. Just a dream.

_______

Kyle jolted awake, his heart pounding, sheets tangled around his legs. For a disoriented moment, he couldn't place where he was—or rather, who he was. Because instead of the sculpted, olive-skinned stranger from his fevered dreams, he was back in his own body. Pale skin, soft belly, scruff on his jaw. Normal.

"What the fuck…" he croaked, sitting up and running a hand over his face. Had it all been a vivid, sex-soaked fantasy? The transformation, the gay desires, the long shift at the restaurant… None of it could've been real. Right?

Kyle stumbled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. In the mirror, his reflection stared back at him, haggard and confused. "Get it together, man," he muttered.

Still shaken, Kyle threw on some clothes and headed out, hoping a walk would clear his head.

"Must've been out cold." He thought as the cool evening air rustled his hair, "Or I'm just recovering from... that." He chucked- there was no way. Just his imagination. Just some kind of stress-induced hallucination. Right?

He found himself walking past the little Mexican place almost unconsciously. Through the window, he saw Anna behind the counter, looking harried but beautiful. Memories of the previous night flashed through his mind. Almost against his will, Kyle pushed open the door, the bell tinkling overhead. Anna looked up, surprise and recognition crossing her face.

"Hola, primo," she said with a smile. "Didn't expect to see you again so soon."

Kyle stared at her, almost at a loss for words, "Wait, I just want to know..."

"We could use your help again tonight." She rushed over to him and firmly grasped his arm, "I'm sure you won't mind."

As the now-familiar tingles spread across his skin, Kyle tried to resist, stumbling backwards. "Wait, no, stop! What are you doing to me?" His voice cracked, pitching higher as his features began to shift once more.

But even as he begged, he could feel his arousal growing, a dull ache between his legs. The urge to run his hands over his changing body, to admire the sleek lines and planes, was overwhelming. "Please, I don't… I'm not…" He trailed off, mouth agape as he watched his reflection transform.

Dark hair curled across his forehead, olive skin glistening. His lips plumped, eyes deepening to chocolate brown. The tight shirt stretched obscenely over new pecs and abs. "Oh god," Kyle whimpered, palming himself through his jeans.

In mere moments, Javier stood there once more, all youthful vigor and lean muscle. But this time, the shift in his psyche was even more pronounced.

"Mierda… I look good," Javier purred in accented English, running his hands appreciatively over his chest and abs. The urge to whip out his phone and snap a dozen selfies was almost irresistible.

But as much as he wanted to indulge, something felt… off. Awkward. Like putting on a costume that didn't quite fit. Javier shook his head, trying to clear the fog of vanity and lust clouding his mind.

"Come on, primo! We have work to do." Anna smiled and led him back to the kitchen.

"Oye, Javier!" Carlos, one of the line cooks, called out. "Back again? We missed you, hermano!" He smiled, "So what about school?!"

"Ah, si… I'm just home for a bit, ya know? Trying to earn some cash," Javier replied, falling easily into the conversational rhythm despite feeling like an imposter.

"And hey, I heard you're on the prowl for a new boyfriend," Miguel teased, elbowing Javier playfully. "Any lucky guys catch your eye yet?"

Javier felt his face flush, palms suddenly sweaty. He opened his mouth, unsure what to say. These casual references to his sexuality, to dating men—it should have felt natural, but instead everything inside him screamed that this wasn't right, wasn't him.

"I, uh… no, not really," Javier mumbled, averting his eyes. He busied himself with chopping vegetables, the knife feeling clumsy in his hand. Every joke, every innuendo from his coworkers sent a jolt of confusion and discomfort through him.

This wasn't him. He wasn't this flirty, openly gay Latino college student. The desires, the ease with which he slipped into this persona—it was all so wrong. And yet, his body thrummed with a strange energy, like it knew exactly what to do even as his mind rebelled. He loved the way his bicep bulged when he moved his arm, loved the feel of his tight shirt against his firm pecs. It all felt so… good.

"Earth to Javier!" Anna's voice snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. " Orders are piling up. Focus, primo!"

Javier jumped, nearly slicing his finger. "Lo siento, I'm on it!" He forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand, pushing down the rising panic.

And as the night came to a close, Javier stumbled into his apartment, his mind reeling. The events of the night played on repeat—the transformation, the confusing conversations, the persistent hum of desire under his skin.

Mechanically, he grabbed his phone, angling it to capture his best side. The camera flash illuminated his chiseled features.

"No... not right..." he murmured, examining the result.

This wasn't him. These poses, this obsession with his appearance—it was all so foreign, so wrong. And his selfies- he looked uncomfortable, yet admittedly sexy. His selfies seemed to capture his inability to embrace this new persona. This new obsession.

"What am I doing?" Javier whispered, his thumb hovering over the delete button.

With a shudder, Javier deleted the photos, tossing his phone aside. He paced the small living room, running trembling hands through his dark curls.

"This isn't me," he chanted, as if saying it aloud would make it true. "I'm not… I don't want… " He trailed off, unable to even articulate the foreign desires plaguing him.

Javier collapsed onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He felt like he was losing his grip on reality, on his very identity. One minute he was a tired, straight 30-year-old, the next a horny, self-obsessed Latino jock. And as exhaustion dragged at him, Javier's thoughts grew increasingly frantic. What if this was permanent? What if he woke up tomorrow, still trapped in this alien body, with these unsettling desires? Panic clawed at his throat.

"No, no, no," he whimpered, rocking slightly. "I just want to be myself again. Please, let this be a dream. I'll do anything…"

-------

Kyle jolted awake, his heart hammering against his ribs. For a blessed moment, relief crashed over him as he took in his familiar surroundings, his familiar body. The nightmare was over. But as the initial shock faded, memories of his time as Javier came rushing back. The feelings, the desires, the easy way he'd slipped into that new skin… it sent a chill down his spine.

Because even now, he could feel it—a phantom echo of Javier's hunger, his vanity, his newfound gay desires. Like a second consciousness lurking in the back of his mind, whispering seductive promises.

"No," Kyle choked out, clutching at his head. "Not again. I won't let it happen again."

But even as he vowed to resist, Kyle could feel the tendrils of Javier's persona wrap around him. The urge to run his hands over his body, to admire his reflection, to seek out validation—it was all still there, simmering beneath the surface.

"I can't… I won't…" Kyle panted. He stumbled out of bed, needing to move, to distract himself. If he could just stay focused, stay grounded in his own identity… surely he could overcome this.

But doubt gnawed at him. And that's how he found himself outside Anna's restaurant once again. And again. And again... Night after night, the cycle repeated: Kyle would enter himself, and leave as Javier. Each time his body morphs, it happens a little easier, a little quicker, until finally, he barely even resists.

At the restaurant, Javier thrives—the perfect kitchen cutie, trading flirtatious glances and innuendos with colleagues and customers alike. His laughter rings out, musical and unrestrained.

Late nights alone in his apartment see Javier blossoming into something new. Selfies from every angle, his face tilted just so, shirt unbuttoned to show off more. The sound of his own pleasured cries echoes off the walls as he explores the limits of his sexy new body. Guys he meets, numbers exchanged, bodies pressed together…

Morning after morning, Kyle wakes up, disoriented and horrified. His body aches in unfamiliar places, the taste of strange cologne lingers on his tongue. Text messages from unknown numbers clutter his phone screen. Each day, he vows to break free, to reclaim his identity. But the pull of Javier grows stronger with each passing night. The confidence, the freedom, the sheer erotic charge of being him… it's intoxicating.

"I'm losing myself," Kyle whispers to his reflection, watching as his eyes darken with unwanted lust. "This isn't me. I'm not… I don't want…" But even as he protests, he can feel Javier stirring within him, ready for another night.

-------

Kyle's heart raced as he pushed open the door to the restaurant, the familiar scent of spices and sizzling meat washing over him. He makes his way to the back room, searching for Anna.

"There you are, Kyle." she calls out from behind the counter, "I have some news. Good news." She smiles, "We just hired some more people and the kitchen is full."

Kyle's blood ran cold. No. This couldn't be happening. Not now, not when he needed it most. Panic gripped his throat as he stepped closer, eyes wild.

"A-Anything I can do? Maybe wash dishes or prep ingredients?" He hated the desperation in his voice, but he couldn't let this chance slip away. His heart sunk as she shook her head, "Please, Anna. I… I need this. Need to be…" He trailed off.

"Need to be who, Kyle?" Anna asked, a knowing smirk played at the corners of her mouth.

"I need to be Javier," Kyle blurted out, mortified by the admission but unable to hold back any longer. "Please. I'm begging you. Change me back. Let me feel that way again." To his shame, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "I'll do anything. Anything you want. Just… please. Make me Javier again."

Anna's eyes glittered with mischief and something darker as she circled Kyle. Her fingertips ghosted along his shoulders, down his arms, leaving trails of tingling warmth in their wake. Kyle shuddered, his skin already beginning to heat, to change.

"Fuck… please…," he panted, arching into her touch. "I want it. Want to be him. Want to feel…" Words dissolved into a low moan as the transformation started, pleasure sparking through every nerve ending.

Olive skin bloomed across his body, rich and glowing. Dark hair sprouted from his scalp, curling into a tousled mop. Muscles rippled and defined beneath his shirt, straining against the fabric. Kyle cried out as the changes intensified, pleasure bordering on pain. His hands raked down his chest, marveling at the new contours, the sensitive peaks of his nipples.

"Yes… fuck, yes…" His accent thicker as he slipped into a native Spanish lilt. "More… want more…"

Through hazy eyes, Kyle caught a glimpse of his reflection in a mirrored glass case nearby. Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. The desire to worship his new body surged through him.

"Ah fuck yes..." Kyle moaned brokenly as the changes reached a crescendo, pleasure overwhelming his senses, "It's so much… oh fuck… I…can't…" Kyle moaned, dizzy with sensation.

Was he really surrendering to this? Was he really begging to become some gay Latino jock, drunk on his own looks and drowning in horny desires?

"God, yes, take me… take all of me…" Kyle screamed again.

He could hear Javier's laughter echoing in the back of his mind, cruel and taunting. "Finally gave in, haven't you? Admit it—you knew I was better. Stronger. Sexier." The words dripped with self-satisfaction, with relish for Kyle's dissolution.

"Yes! Fuck yes!" Kyle agreed.

Waves of bliss washed over him as he surrendered completely, drowning himself, losing himself—all of his resistance, his sense of self. Only pleasure remained as Javier asserted dominance, consumed him utterly. There was no more him, only Javier. Now and forever.

______

Javier stepped into his apartment, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. Glancing around, he mused on how bland and boring everything looked—clearly a product of Kyle's taste, not his own. Someday soon, he'd give this space a real facelift.

For now though, Javier sauntered to the bathroom, admiring his reflection in the full-length mirror. Tanned skin glistened under the lights, each ab clearly defined, arms thick and toned. What a view.

Without hesitation, he struck a pose- confident, sexy. No more hesitation. No more discomfort. Just him. Only him.

[repossesseddesires]

Girl Problems

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. All the stories features only adult characters. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Girl Problems

— Um... I don't know if that was supposed to happen – Tannia said with a nervous giggle as she looked at her best friend lying on the bed, looking rather... unusual.

The sleepover they had organized was supposed to be for testing out the magic book Tannia had found in the basement of her house, in a pile of boxes from a garage sale by an aunt who was a compulsive hoarder. The book had an unknown language, just symbols, lines, and a few drawings that gave a small clue as to what the spells were about, but that was all. They had both started playing with the book as if it were a gossip book or something, saying things to themselves without much care for what might happen. The spells at first were harmless: a change of eye color, curly hair instead of straight, perfect makeup. The poor girls had been experimenting in an attempt to find something to modify their physical appearance. They wanted to be like some busty girl in their class, the kind of girl the jocks would die to have.

And indeed, they found a way to alter her physique, though not in the way they expected.

— What? – Denisse murmured, still not noticing any change, but when a deep, masculine voice escaped his lips, she realized how screwed up her situation was – What the hell did you do, Tan?!

The former girl looked at herself, terrified. Her arms were bulky, with a light layer of hair; her fingers were bony and long. She felt she'd grown at least 14 cm. Her thighs felt heavy, though her butt felt somewhat... soft. Shit, her pecs were big too.

— I didn't do anything!

— Then figure it out! – It was almost ridiculous to see a guy acting so feminine, panicking, staring at his palms as if they were a foreign part of his body. She grabbed one of the stuffed animals her best friend kept on her bed to cover what now resided between her thighs. She felt it throbbing and growing – I don't want to be a smelly guy forever! Take me back to how I was!

— That's what I'm trying to do! – Tania's gaze darted among the verses, but she found nothing; the drawings were too ambiguous. She was afraid of doing something wrong again, though it wasn't as if she had any other options.

Denisse continued to stare at her new male body with a certain fascination at the difference in size, weight, and everything else. She still felt light, but there was also a good pair of muscles in this new body – exactly the kind of guy she herself had once wanted as a boyfriend, an equally smelly athlete with a depraved gaze. Shit, what had she just said?

— Wait, wait! I think I know how to fix this – Her best friend turned a page, hoping that would bring Denisse back to normal. She didn't understand anything in the translation, or the drawings, nothing. Only the intuition that something "good" could come of it – Ut mens et corpus unum fiant!

She said confidently, raising her hand towards her, though instead of beginning to transform back into her female form, she only rolled her eyes back, turning them white, her mouth parted foolishly, and her fingers twisted sideways as if they were twitching. Guttural sounds escaped her mouth as she felt the torrent of magic pass through her body, her bare feet rubbing against the sheets before she collapsed onto the mattress, her breathing slowed. She swallowed, waiting for some response.

— Denisse? H-Hello? – Her nervous, hesitant voice filled the air until she heard it end. She opened her eyes, though the girl in that guy's body looked strange. They had been friends forever; she knew her like the back of her hand, and without a doubt, the look she had etched in her memory was... different. Like nothing she had ever seen before.

There was a spark in them, mischievous and incandescent.

— Who the hell is Denisse? – He murmured in a confused tone, raising an eyebrow and flashing a goofy smile, just like brainless athletes did. He flexed his back, admiring his strength as he continued moving those smelly feet. He loved smelling so bad, so rancid and bitter, heavy with testosterone and the acidic remnants of his scent.

— W-what? I-it's you, don't play around.

— Nah, I don't know what you're talking about.

Tannia watched in horror as the guy raised his armpit to brazenly sniff himself, even sticking out his tongue to inhale every potent trace of his own stench. He was practically putting his feet up to his face; her ex-best friend's behavior wasn't much different from any other stupid, hormone-driven, almost stereotypical guy. All he needed was a baseball cap and a tracksuit to complete his physical and mental look.

Now, the stuffed animal he'd been hiding between his legs in shame, he was rubbing as if it were some other kind of toy, panting and desperate for more.

— N-no. Wait, I promise we'll find a way to turn you back to normal – Tannia turned her back on him so she wouldn't see the creature Dennisse had become, moving between the pages, oblivious to the other. Big mistake.

Tanner was going through his typical workout routine, pumping his arms while doing a few push-ups and squats that further broadened his plump, muscular thighs, defined and squeezed tight in the spandex that left nothing to the imagination. Sweat dripped from everywhere, from his forehead to his back, and even trickled down his crack. He kept training nonstop, wanting to be as sweaty as possible. Nothing started a Monday morning better than the pungent stench of his armpits.

He had to see his best friend, Dennis, at noon. They had calculus class or something like that, and then practice at the sports club. That gave them almost fifteen minutes to sniff each other's armpits nonstop. Tanner loved the sour taste of his best friend, his bro. And especially their sweaty feet after training, wrapped in their sneakers that smelled so good, although that didn't make them gay or anything like that, they were just good friends who loved sniffing each other like pigs, hehehe... No homo, bro

—-

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don’t forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I’m always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story… Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

—-

[happyhypnoguys]

Good boy. Feel your mind melting? Good boy. Feel your thoughts leaking out of your brain, dripping down your throat, dribbling down your tongue, glistening and gleaming like slobber all over chest? Good boy. Stupid and pretty. Pretty stupid. You’re a good boy with an empty brain, bright eyes, and warm holes. I can work with that. Just be a good boy and let me take care of filling your holes for you. Keep being good and stupid and pretty and warm (just like your holes). I’ll make you right. Good boy. I’ll treat you good, boy.

[justonemorefeeling]

A Lesson In Jockography

Daniel found himself at his computer desk he had tucked away in the corner of his room, right next to his bed for the lowest amount of effort he had to give from staying up all night, pouring over either essays or another presentation for another class that almost, but never has occurred, fly under the radar.

There was something so monotone in his routine, but to him, what else what he do with his lack of company that wasn’t already busy with something else that just highlighted which type of future they’ll have with ease, but sometimes not having an actual group of people to call friends sometimes gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his gut.

That same feeling also came with when his roommate, Sam, ever entered back in their shared dorm. The campus was a moderately larger place with more space, so it’s not like they were ever stacked on one another, but in Daniel’s eyes, it felt like it.

To call Sam lazy would be an contradiction, in a way with the way the other man managed to get himself up early within the mornings and be out the door by 4 and come back with even more energy, which would be surprising when Daniel found out quickly he was going to the gym, making the room smell just slightly stale sometimes. Daniel always felt slightly envious of Sam with his true lack of care of the timing of his own life, as if the world itself took care of itself and let him do his own thing.

Daniel found himself finishing up another long assignment, closing his computer with a sigh. He took a deep breath, flexing his fingers a bit, trying to get the feeling back into them from them typing up a word minimum he would strangle with his bare hands if he could. He took another deep breath, a wave of tiredness lingering in his body, but then his upper lip and nose twitched slightly as a new smell seemed to come up.

Finally considering his surroundings for the first time in hours after staring at a screen, the main culprit for the headache between his eyes, he noticed the bathroom light from the door attached to it had the light on. Sam normally stayed out, presumably out with another girl, the way he spoke about them though, it never once came across serious with any of them. It would make sense behind the fact that Daniel’s personally had a couple of walk-ins on Sam, even with the fair warnings of his arrival with his jingle dance he did against the door to loudly giving notice. Sam never seemed to hear it when it was in action. Or maybe didn’t care.

Daniel stood up stretching his body, his shirt and jeans feeling grimy with how long he’s been in them since his day started that morning, which was technically now the one from yesterday. The smell as he stood up was still there. The shower head in bathroom roared as Sam presumably cleaned himself up. It startled Daniel a little, but he was fine.

Using his nose, he soon found the problem. Sam left left his hamper open, which at some point when he came in, he must’ve stripped out of his shirt and shorts and tossed them on top lazily instead of in it like the stray pieces of clean clothes he manages to have around, no matter how much Daniel tries to clean up.

The smell attacked his senses again, it being much stronger standing in front of them. His nose wrinkled at the smell of sweat, musk and what seemed to be leftover sex. He felt himself sway slightly in a sudden rush of what he thought was nausea, but quickly recovered. After he shook his head a little, his eyes returned to the shorts, curious about… something. Breathing normally. As if whatever once revolted him was masked.

In his mind, he wondered kind of package this guy could have that could have girls running back. But not in a gay way! Sam isn’t his type in any way. There’s nothing about Sam that he would possibly like. That wouldn’t be cool, not that he had a problem with gay people, it’s just… wait. Why it would it be gay? And why would he care? Cause he’s straight. But, in a more positive perspective, Daniel felt a small pang in his gut again, but this time, it didn’t feel like the uncomfortable one anymore.

It felt… hot and burning small, but it was soon growing and growing with every passing moment he stood in thought, but in a strange twist of fate, the original thought he had just had slipped his mind, his attention back to the shorts again. Without a restraint this time, Daniel found himself gripping them in one hand, and without even thinking about it like he normally would, his other hand carefully dragged up to his chest, putting small pressure on it as the fire inside grew. He closed his eyes as the proximity of the shorts kept floating up right into nose, a more stable flow of a now dulling feeling in his brain, as if he was slowing down somehow.

His skin was starting to feel hot now, and without thinking twice about it, he peeled off his shirt and kicked off his jeans. It was like he wasn’t truly thinking too much about his actions, but chasing the consequence of another. The fire ablaze spread upwards, starting something completely different as his body started to shake slightly.

The hand that once gripped his chest was already on its way to the waistband of his underwear, a surprising tightness already awaiting him. He nearly let out a moan as his he pulled the fabric forward, opening his eyes, then widening soon after, his body absolutely not like he once remembered. Within the few seconds of breathing in… that, his body carved itself into something, but another pulse of fire nearly toppled him over on his knees. He grabbed a seemingly growing pec as he rutted himself out of his boxers, and without even realizing, slipping on Sam’s dirty shorts.

The feeling intensified tenfold, making his body buckle with a full intensity he’s never felt before. With every shooting flash of pleasure, his body cracked and popped his once average, more meek shape into something that seemed it could only be achieved with being at the gym at the time. Which… seemed right to Daniel Dan. He liked looking good. He didn’t know why, but there was something about being able to show off his body that made his cock twitch in loosely in the shorts.

Dan could his balls churn fuller and fuller with more and more cum that was only waiting to be expelled somewhere… someone. He rutted faster and faster in the shorts, each trust granting a satisfying pull in his body that hardened his jaw, all the way down in a way that looked like a grand reveal, but for Dan, he felt like a silk zipper was being unzipped. Each trust was more than ecstasy. It made old memories fade away. Daniel. A boy’s name. Science, essays and projects, staying in most of the time. That was over. Being at the gym, showing off and… Sam? But Yes. Sam. With the handsome man’s face flashed in the middle of his mind, it seemed to trigger the last effect on Dan, short-circuiting the last of his brain, completely numbing him down, but his now larger, throbbing beast of a cock shoot hot, thick ropes through the shorts. With every body roll, the last of Daniel left with it. A stubborn, hot-headed jock with a… history with the other room laid in its place now.

And behind the crack door of the bathroom, Sam came against the door, shooting his hot sticky load himself, his plan at something even greater actually worked and he in every way planned to use it.

———————————————————————————

Hello everyone! My first story written here and hopefully many more to come! I apologize if it’s a little messy, but getting a stroke of wanting to write at 2 in the morning can, in fact, mess with how much your eyes stay open 😭.

Either way, please let me know what you thought!

DMs & requests are heavily open.

[bodriversblog]

The old you is finally awake again. It must’ve been twenty months since this self had control of your own body and mind. It felt like a never-ending bad dream as you watched yourself obey your jock roommate’s every hypnotic suggestion. You pledged a frat with him and surrounded yourself with only your—actually his frat bros, pumped iron with him every day, wore only his gymbro wardrobe, and talked like a chill bro neanderthal while the thoughts in your head felt like molasses trying to drip through cotton candy. He even made you only take classes that you could fully bullshit with the magic brain box... No, um... A large language model.

“What’s wrong, bro?” your bro captor Colton says, noticing a change in your demeanor.

“All this is wrong, bro!” Wait, why can’t you stop saying that word? You try again:

“Colton, you’re not my bro. You’re a sick bastard trying to make me into some dumb ass clone of your frat bros for brojobs and muscle worship seshes! But none of that’s me!”

“Calm down, bro,” he says. You suddenly slump a bit and lower the arm that was pointing a finger at him.

“Here, wear your chain, bro.” You feel Colton place the thick gold chain you’ve been wearing 24/7 around your neck—though you took it off this morning. And you suddenly feel a cozy warmth wash over you.

“If none of this is you, and I’m not your bro, then who are you? What is your name? If you can tell me your name, I’ll let you go back to normal and never bother you again.”

“That’s not fair! You put the dumb jock chain on me, bro! The hypnotic trigger… I… I… can’t remember shit!”

In horror, you grasp your head tightly through your BPO ball cap, as if to keep your memories from draining away and this vestige of your old self from being suppressed once again.

“Bro, my head hurts,” you eventually say to your bro Colton.

“Just try not to think too hard, Tank.”

[jockdumboy]

im standin here in my tight black shirt n shorts, white hat on backwards, flexin my big arm while holdin my fone like a total dumm horny stinky brain full of pink stupid fog. cant think strait at alllll. my head is so foggy n pink n slow, just swirlin with musky jock thoughts. duhhhhh… flex… sniff… leak… cum…

used to try bein smart but now my brain is completely melted into this warm pink dumb fog. every lift at the gym pumps more fog in n pushes all the smart stuff out. the transformatin is soooo great bros!!! feelin my iq leak away while my arms get bigger n my pits get stinkier n my balls stay heavy n full of thick cum is the best thing ever. i love how empty n fuzzy my head feels now. no more thinkin, no more worryin, just pure horny stinky jock bliss.

look at meeee… tight shirt huggin my chest, shorts showin off my thick legs, arm popped n veiny. i stare at myself n my brain just goes blank n pink. i can smell my own musk even thru my clothes n it makes the fog thicker. my pits r probly so stinky rite now after liftin but i dont care, i love it. makes me hornier. makes me dumber. my balls feel so full n achin all the time, leakin into my shorts while my head stays all foggy n stupid. feels so fuckin good to be this big dumb horny stinky jock with nuthin but pink fog in my skull.

bein like this is amazin. i dont gotta pretend to be clever or deep. people just look at this swole body n the hat n the flex n thats enuff. i just grin dumb, flex harder, n let the pink stupid fog roll deeper. my old smart self would be so jealus seein how happy n empty n musky i am. no stress. just sweat, stink, pump, n cum.

if ur lookin at this pic n feelin that tingle like “fuck yesss i wanna be a big dumb horny stinky brain full of pink fog too” — let it take over bro!!!! stop tryin to think hard. every time a smart idea pops up just flex ur arm or sniff ur pit till the pink fog comes in n melts it. go to the gym n sweat till u reek. dont wash too much, let that stinky jock smell soak into ur brain n make u even dumber. eat big, lift heavy, edge ur cock for hours while chantin slow in ur foggy head “pink fog… stinky pits… full balls… brain off”. look at mirrer pics like this every day n let ur thoughts turn into warm pink mush.

the transformatin feels soooo amazin. watchin ur brain fill with pink stupid fog while ur body gets swole n ur pits get musky n ur balls swell with cum is pure heaven. u stop carin about everythin else n just become this happy empty-headed stinky jock who lives for the pump, the smell, n the loads. its so liberatin. just flex, stink, leak, repeat.

im never goin back. this is who i am now — a big dumb horny stinky jock with a head full of pink stupid fog n gallons of cum in my balls. i love how foggy n slow n musky i am. i love bein this empty n full at the same time.