BodyShaper

G2S Enthusiast and TF Writer, find me on X ;)

[b0dyshaper]

Should I keep focusing on gay to straight? Or what other stories would yall like?

[need4change]

Just Like Him

"Jesus Christ, Chloe, you look like you've been crying for a week straight."

Liam kicked the door shut behind him, dropping his gym bag on the floor with a heavy thud. The apartment smelled like stale tears and cheap wine, a combination that made his nose wrinkle in disgust. He'd sprinted over here after getting her barely coherent text message about Chad, that walking, talking steroid injection she'd been dating.

"I have been," Chloe sniffled from her curled-up position on the couch, a pint of melted ice cream balanced precariously on her stomach. "He dumped me. Said I was getting 'too clingy' and that my pussy wasn't tight enough anymore."

Liam's jaw tightened. "What a fucking piece of shit. I swear to God, I'm gonna find that roided-out gorilla and rip his tiny dick off."

Chloe managed a weak smile. "His dick wasn't tiny, and you know it." She gestured vaguely toward the coffee table, where a pair of gray gym pants lay in a crumpled heap. "He left these. Probably forgot them in his haste to go fuck some other poor girl."

Liam plopped down beside her, the couch groaning under his weight. "Forget him. You're way too good for that meathead. The guy had the personality of a brick and probably thinks foreplay is telling you to 'take it, bitch'."

"Well, he wasn't wrong about that part," Chloe admitted with a watery laugh. "God, I'm so pathetic. I actually miss him. His stupid laugh, his constant need to flex in every mirror, even the way he'd leave his dirty socks everywhere."

Liam snorted. "You don't miss him. You miss the idea of him. The hot body, the confidence, the way he made you feel like the only girl in the room... right before he made five other girls feel the same way."

"And the nine-inch dick," Chloe added, her eyes glazing over slightly. "Don't forget the nine-inch dick that could hit my G-spot from three different angles."

Liam rolled his eyes. "Fine, the magical nine-inch dick. But you can get that elsewhere with about 90% less douchebaggery."

Chloe's eyes drifted to the shorts on the table. "You know what would be hilarious? If you tried those on. You're about his size, right? Maybe a little leaner, but close enough."

Liam recoiled. "Hell no. I'm not putting on that asshole's dirty gym shorts. God knows what bodily fluids are crusted in the fabric."

"Come on," Chloe wheedled, sitting up and poking his arm. "For me? I need a laugh right now. Something to take my mind off how pathetic I am for missing a guy who called me 'his favorite cum dumpster'."

Against his better judgment, Liam sighed dramatically. "Fine, but you owe me big time. Like, you're buying me dinner for a month big time."

He snatched the shorts and headed to the bathroom. The fabric was stiff and smelled faintly of sweat and cheap cologne. He stripped off his own shorts and pulled on Chad's, surprised at how tight they were around his thighs and ass.

When he came out, Chloe's eyes widened. "Holy shit," she breathed. "You actually look... hot. Like, really fucking hot. Your ass looks amazing in those."

Liam blushed, preening slightly. "Well, I do leg day twice a week."

"No, I mean it," Chloe insisted, her eyes roaming over him appreciatively. "You've got that jock vibe going on. The way you're standing..." She tilted her head. "You know, Chad used to stand just like that. All cocky and shit, like he owned the room."

Liam shifted uncomfortably. "I don't stand like that."

"You kind of do," Chloe giggled. "And your arms... they're getting bigger. Have you been lifting more? Your biceps look more defined."

Liam glanced down at his arms. They did seem more pumped than usual, the veins more prominent. "Maybe a little. Increased my protein intake."

"God, and your voice," Chloe continued, her eyes glazing over slightly. "It's deeper than I remember. Chad had this really deep voice that made me wet every time I heard it, especially when he was talking shit about some fag at the gym."

Liam cleared his throat. "I don't sound like him."

"No, but you could," Chloe mused. "If you tried. Just... lower it a little. More confident. More... masculine."

Liam tried, clearing his throat again. "What, like this?"

"Yessss," Chloe breathed, her hand drifting between her legs. "Exactly like that. Fuck, that's hot."

Liam felt a strange warmth spreading through his chest. His pecs seemed to be swelling, pushing against the fabric of the shorts. He ran a hand over them, surprised at their firmness.

"See?" Chloe whispered. " Chad used to do that all the time - feel himself up like he was God's gift to women, which honestly, he kind of was."

Liam's hand moved to his abs, which were suddenly more defined than he remembered. "I've been working on my core," he said, his voice dropping even lower.

"Fuck yeah, you have," Chloe moaned, her fingers working faster under her skirt. "Chad had these massive thighs from all his squats. He could crush a watermelon between them."

Liam looked down, surprised to see his thighs had indeed swollen with muscle, straining against the shorts. He flexed them, watching them bulge with new power.

"Yesss, just like that," Chloe encouraged. "Chad had these broad shoulders that made him look like a fucking football player, which he was, before he got kicked out for 'excessive hazing'."

Liam rolled his shoulders back, feeling them stretch and widen. His entire upper body seemed to be expanding, muscles swelling and reshaping themselves into a more masculine form. The seams of the shorts strained against his growing frame.

"his face," Chloe breathed, her eyes fixed on his. "Chad had this really strong jawline that could cut glass."

Liam ran a hand over his chin, feeling the rough stubble that had suddenly appeared. His jaw did feel more angular, more defined, more... aggressive.

"And his hair," Chloe continued. " Chad always kept his hair short and military-style, said long hair was for fags and hippies."

Liam reached up, surprised to find his hair had indeed cropped shorter, styling itself into a severe, masculine cut that felt rough to the touch.

Chloe whispered. "Chad had these piercing blue eyes that could see right through me, usually to calculate my cup size."

Liam blinked, feeling a strange tingling in his eyes. When he opened them again, Chloe gasped.

"Fuck, they're blue now," she breathed. "Just like his. So cold and calculating."

Liam felt a strange detachment from his body, as if he were watching someone else transform. His thoughts were becoming simpler, more focused on physical sensations - the weight of his new muscles, the tightness of the shorts, the growing heat in his groin. His mind felt... clearer, emptier, filled with space where complex thoughts used to be.

"his hands," Chloe continued, her voice growing more urgent. "Chad had these huge hands that could grip me so tight, leave bruises for days."

Liam looked down at his hands, which were indeed larger and more calloused than before. He flexed them, feeling a strange power in his grip, a desire to use that power to dominate, to control.

"And his feet," Chloe moaned. "Chad wore size 13 shoes, said he needed big feet to balance his big dick."

Liam wiggled his toes, feeling them stretch and expand. The shorts felt even tighter now, barely containing his swelling form. He felt taller, broader, more... imposing.

"God, and his dick," Chloe breathed, her eyes dropping to his crotch. " Chad had this massive nine-inch cock that filled me up so perfectly, made me scream his name until I was hoarse."

Liam looked down, surprised to see a prominent bulge forming in the shorts. He reached down to adjust himself, gasping at the size of his suddenly enlarged cock. It felt heavy, powerful, ready to claim, to conquer.

"Yesss, just like that," Chloe encouraged. "Chad was always so confident, so cocky. Like he knew he was the shit, because he was."

Liam straightened up, puffing out his chest. A smirk played on his lips as he looked down at Chloe. "Yeah, I guess I am pretty hot. Bet I could get any pussy I wanted."

"Fuck yeah, you are," Chloe moaned. "And you know it too. That's what Chad was like - always so fucking arrogant, always so sure of himself. Never doubted his right to take what he wanted."

Liam ran a hand over his new abs, feeling the power coursing through his veins. "Damn right I am. Why would I doubt myself when I'm this fucking perfect?"

"You're not thinking about guys anymore, are you? You're thinking about pussy. About how many girls you could fuck in a week, how many would be begging for your dick."

Liam blinked, his brow furrowing. Why the fuck would he be thinking about guys? That was... disgusting. Wrong. His mind wasn't filled with memories of art galleries and witty banter with other men anymore; it was a slideshow of tight asses in yoga pants, low-cut tops, and the desperate looks women gave him. All he could think about was sinking his new, massive cock into a tight, wet pussy and hearing some bitch scream his name.

Chloe breathed, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. "You don't remember being some gay twink who worked in a coffee shop and read poetry, do you? You remember being the star quarterback, fucking cheerleaders in the locker room after every big game."

Liam nodded slowly, his mind rewriting itself. The scent of espresso beans and the feel of a book in his hands faded, replaced by the smell of sweat and grass, the roar of a crowd, the feeling of a cheerleader's legs wrapped around his waist in a cramped locker room. He remembered slapping his teammates on the ass, calling them pussies when they missed a tackle, and laughing as some nerd tripped in the hallway. Who the fuck was Liam? That was some nobody, some cock-gobbler he probably shoved into a locker once or twice.

"Your personality," Chloe continued, her voice growing more urgent. "You're becoming more aggressive, more dominant. Chad never took no for an answer. He saw what he wanted and he took it."

Liam's smirk widened, showing teeth. He grabbed Chloe's arm, his grip like a vise. "Damn right I don't. Bitches don't know what they want anyway. That's why guys like me have to show them."

Chloe whispered, trying to pull away but failing. "Chad was a real man's man - believed in God, country, and pussy. Thought feminism was a cry for help from ugly women who couldn't get laid."

Liam nodded, his eyes hardening. "Fucking right. Fags and liberals can go to hell. This country was built by real men, not a bunch of soft-handed pussies whining about their feelings. Women should be in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant, where they belong."

"His intelligence," Chloe breathed, a flicker of regret in her eyes. "Chad wasn't exactly a rocket scientist. He was all brawn and no brains, thought Nietzsche was some kind of German beer."

Liam shrugged, the motion making his pecs bounce. "Who needs brains when you've got this?" He flexed his bicep, watching it bulge. "Smart guys don't get pussy. They get wedgies and spend their Saturday nights playing video games. I get laid. Every. Single. Night."

"Your name," Chloe whispered, her voice barely audible. "It's not Liam anymore, is it? It's Chad."

"Damn right it is," Chad growled, his voice a deep, rumbling bass. "Now get on your knees, bitch. I'm gonna fuck your throat until you can't talk."

Chloe hesitated, a flicker of her old self in her eyes. "Chad, wait, I don't know if..."

"Did I fucking stutter?" Chad snarled, grabbing her by the hair and forcing her to her knees. "You wanted Chad? Well, you got him. Now open wide."

Chloe whimpered, tears welling in her eyes, but she complied, parting her lips. Chad smirked, grabbing his thickening cock through the shorts. "That's a good girl. You're gonna learn your place, just like all the others."

He fumbled with the waistband, his new, larger hands clumsy with the unfamiliar task. His cock sprang free, thick and imposing, the veins pulsing with barely contained lust. He grabbed Chloe's head, forcing her down onto his shaft.

"Take it all," he grunted, thrusting into her mouth. "That's it, choke on it. You love it, don't you? You love being used by a real man."

As he fucked her face, his mind continued its transformation. Memories of Liam's life - his first crush on a boy, his coming out, his gentle relationships - were being overwritten by Chad's brutal conquests. He remembered taking a girl's virginity in the back of his pickup, laughing when she cried. He remembered cheating on every girlfriend he'd ever had, sometimes with two or three other girls at once. He remembered using his size and strength to intimidate smaller, weaker men, calling them faggots and pussies until they cried.

"Look at me," he commanded, grabbing Chloe's chin and forcing her to look up at him. "You're nothing but a set of holes to me. A warm place to stick my dick. You understand?"

Chloe nodded, tears streaming down her face.

"Good," Chad grunted, pulling out of her mouth and flipping her onto the couch. "Now spread those legs. Time to see if this pussy's still tight enough for a real man."

He ripped off her skirt and panties, positioning himself at her entrance. "You're gonna take every inch of my nine-inch cock, you hear me? And you're gonna thank me for it."

He positioned himself over her, but then paused, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he actually looked at her. "Ugh, you know, up close... you're kinda plain, aren't you?" He grabbed a handful of her mousy brown hair. "This hair is so boring. Like, office-worker boring. And your tits? They're basically mosquito bites. I like my bitches with huge fucking knockers, the kind that give them back problems."

Chloe flinched, a fresh wave of tears welling in her eyes. "I... I'm sorry?"

"Don't apologize, just fix it," Chad snapped, his ego swelling with every cruel word. "And your skin? It's so pale. You look like you live in a fucking basement. I like my girls tan, like they just spent a week in Cancun getting railed by rich dudes."

As he spoke, he watched in fascination as her body began to change. Her mousy brown hair lightened, bleaching itself into a vibrant, platinum blonde that cascaded over her shoulders in perfect waves. Her small breasts began to swell, stretching the fabric of her shirt until it was straining against two massive, perfectly round globes of flesh.

"Fuck yeah, that's more like it," Chad grunted, grabbing one of her newly enlarged tits and squeezing it hard. "Now those are some proper titties. The kind you can motorboat."

He watched as her skin darkened, taking on a deep, golden tan that looked like she'd spent hours under a tanning bed. Her waist seemed to shrink, her hips flaring out into an exaggerated hourglass figure.

"And your face," he continued, his voice dripping with condescension. "It's too... smart-looking. I don't fuck smart girls. They ask too many questions, think they have opinions. I like my bitches dumb and giggly, the kind whose only thought is how to please my cock."

Chloe's face softened, her features becoming more delicate, more vapid. Her eyes widened, taking on a vacant, glassy look. Her lips plumped up, forming a perfect pout that seemed to beg for a cock to be shoved between them.

"Much better," Chad nodded in approval. "Now you look like a proper bimbo. The kind I'd take to a frat party and pass around to my buddies."

He positioned himself at her entrance again, but paused once more. "You know what else? Your voice is too... normal. I like my girls to sound like they just stepped out of a valley girl movie from the 90s. All 'like, oh my god' and 'totally' and shit."

"Like, what do you mean?" Chloe asked, her voice suddenly higher, more breathless, tinged with a subtle California accent.

"Perfect," Chad smirked. "Now you sound like the brainless fucktoy you were meant to be."

He slammed into her, making her gasp. "That's it," he grunted, pounding into her relentlessly. "Take it, you fucking bimbo. You know you love it."

"Oh my god, like, yes!" Chloe moaned, her voice a high-pitched, breathy whine. "Your cock is, like, sooo big!"

"Fucking right it is," Chad grunted, his ego swelling with every vapid compliment. "It's the biggest cock you'll ever have, so you'd better appreciate it."

"Like, I totally appreciate it!" Chloe squealed, her massive tits bouncing with every thrust. "It's, like, the best cock ever! Way better than, like, all the other cocks I've had!"

Chad felt a surge of pride at her words. "Damn right it is. I'm the best fuck you'll ever have, and don't you forget it."

He felt himself getting close, his balls tightening. "Gonna fill you up," he grunted. "Gonna pump you so full of my cum you'll be tasting it for a week."

"Oh my god, like, yes! Fill me up with your hot, yummy cum!" Chloe squealed, her back arching as she orgasmed. "I wanna, like, have your babies and stuff!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he came, his hot seed flooding her womb. He collapsed on top of her, his heavy body pinning her to the couch.

"Damn," he muttered, rolling off her. "That was alright. Not bad for a reformed mousy bitch."

He stood up, stretching his new, muscular body. "Well, I'm out. Got a party to hit. Try not to get any smarter while I'm gone, huh?"

He grabbed his shorts from the floor, pulling them on over his still-hard cock. "Later, bimbo. Don't call me unless you're looking for a round two or you've got a hot friend who wants to join in."

He strutted out of the apartment, leaving Chloe panting on the couch, her hand already drifting between her legs. As he walked down the hallway, he caught his reflection in a mirror and smirked. "Damn, I look good," he muttered, flexing his biceps. "And I just made that bitch ten times hotter. I'm like a fucking fairy godmother of pussy."

His mind was already racing with possibilities. The blonde from his gym class, the redhead at the front desk of his apartment building, the pair of sorority girls he'd seen at the grocery store. He could make them all into his perfect bimbos, his personal harem of brainless, big-titted fucktoys.

He was Chad. The ultimate alpha male. A toxic, homophobic, sexist jerk. A womanizing cheating prick. And as he stepped out into the bright sunlight, he felt a surge of pure, unadulterated ego. He was the king, and all the pussies in the world were his kingdom.

"Time to go conquer some more bitches," he muttered to himself, already feeling his cock stir at the thought. "Life is fucking good when you're me."

[g2slove]

Experiment No. 5

The bass thumped through the club, vibrating in my chest as I swayed to the rhythm, my hips instinctively moving to the beat. My friends, Jenna and Lila, were giggling beside me, their drinks sloshing slightly as they danced. The air was thick with sweat and the faint scent of fruity cocktails, the strobe lights casting erratic shadows across the packed dance floor. I’d been here a hundred times before, but tonight felt… different. There was an electricity in the air, a tension that made my skin prickle with anticipation.

Across the room, I caught his eye. Ethan. He was leaning casually against the bar, his dark hair tousled, his shirt just tight enough to hint at the muscles beneath. When our eyes met, he smirked, and my stomach did a flip. I’d seen him around before, but we’d never spoken. There was something about the way he looked at me tonight, though—like he’d already decided what was going to happen.

“Go talk to him,” Jenna urged, nudging me with her elbow. Her cheeks were flushed from the vodka cranberry she’d been nursing all night. “He’s been staring at you since we walked in.”

I hesitated, but only for a moment. The music shifted, the beat dropping into something slower, sultrier. Ethan pushed off the bar and started walking toward me, his movements fluid and deliberate. My heart raced as he closed the distance, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth, barely audible over the music. He was close enough now that I could smell the faint hint of cologne on him, something woodsy and intoxicating.

“Hey,” I echoed, my voice a little breathless. He reached out, his hand brushing against my waist, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

“You look like you could use a dance,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk.

I didn’t need to be asked twice. My body moved instinctively, gravitating toward him as the music pulsed around us. His hands found my hips, and I slid mine around his neck, our bodies pressed together as we swayed to the rhythm. The heat between us was undeniable, the tension building with every beat.

His lips brushed against my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice sending a jolt of electricity through me.

I didn’t respond—I didn’t need to. Our lips met in a hungry kiss, the world around us fading into the background. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, and I opened for him, our kiss deepening as the music swelled around us. His hands slid lower, gripping my ass as he pulled me closer, our bodies grinding together in a way that left no doubt about what we both wanted.

The DJ’s voice cut through the haze of desire, his voice booming over the speakers. “Ten!” he shouted, the crowd roaring in response.

I barely registered the countdown, too caught up in the heat of the moment. Ethan’s lips moved to my neck, his tongue tracing a path along my collarbone as his hands explored my body.

“Nine!” the crowd shouted, their voices a distant hum in the back of my mind.

I could feel the tension building, the energy in the club reaching a fever pitch. My fingers tangled in Ethan’s hair, pulling him closer as his lips found mine again.

“Eight!”

“Seven!”

“Six!”

The numbers blurred together, the anticipation in the air almost palpable. Ethan’s hands were everywhere, his touch electric, his lips trailing fire across my skin.

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

The music reached a crescendo, the bass pounding in time with my racing heart. Ethan’s lips were on mine again, our kiss almost frantic now, our bodies pressed together so tightly I could feel every inch of him.

“Two!”

“One!”

The DJ’s voice roared over the speakers, and the second the countdown hit zero, the club was enveloped in a thick, swirling mist. It was sudden, disorienting, the fog so dense I could barely see Ethan in front of me. The air felt charged, strange, like the atmosphere itself had shifted.

I blinked, trying to clear my vision, and when the fog finally began to dissipate, something felt… off. The taste of Ethan’s kiss lingered on my lips, but the desire that had been coursing through me moments ago had been replaced by something else—something primal, urgent, and entirely new.

I turned, my eyes locking onto Jenna. She was standing nearby, her eyes wide, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. The sight of her sent a surge of heat through me, a hunger I couldn’t explain. It was like a switch had been flipped, every thought in my head consumed by the need to have her.

“Jenna,” I growled, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.

She turned to me, her lips parting in surprise, but before she could say anything, I was on her. My hands grabbed her hips, pulling her against me, my lips covering hers in a searing kiss. She gasped, her hands flying to my shoulders, but I didn’t give her a chance to protest. My fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as my lips trailed down her neck, biting and sucking at her skin.

“What are you—mmph!” Jenna started to say, but I cut her off with another kiss, my tongue plunging into her mouth as my hands began to tear at her clothes. The fabric of her dress ripped easily, the sound of it tearing drowned out by the roar of the music and the heavy pounding of my heart.

“I need you,” I growled, my voice rough with desire. My hands were everywhere, touching, groping, claiming her. I could feel her trembling beneath me, but she wasn’t pulling away. Her body was responding to mine, her breath coming in ragged gasps as I pushed her back against the wall.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan with Lila. He had her pinned against the bar, his hands gripping her head as he thrust into her mouth. Lila’s eyes were wide, but she wasn’t resisting, her lips wrapped around him as he groaned loudly.

“This slut’s mouth feels better than yours would’ve,” Ethan snarled, his voice dripping with lust and something darker—something almost cruel.

The words sent a shiver of arousal through me, but I didn’t have time to dwell on them. Jenna was arching into me, her hands clawing at my back as I claimed her mouth again. The taste of her was intoxicating, her body soft and yielding beneath mine. I could feel the wetness between her thighs, and the thought of how she’d feel around me made me groan with need.

My hands slid lower, gripping her ass as I lifted her, pressing her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her nails digging into my shoulders as I ground against her. The friction was maddening, the heat between us overwhelming.

“Fuck me,” Jenna whispered, her voice trembling with need. Her eyes were dark with desire, her lips swollen from my kisses. “Please.”

I didn’t need to be asked twice. My hands fumbled with my belt, my fingers trembling as I struggled to free myself. The moment I was out, Jenna reached for me, her hand wrapping around my length and giving me a firm stroke.

“Hurry,” she whimpered, her breath hot against my ear.

I lined myself up, her heat almost unbearable as I teased her entrance. “You want it?” I growled, my voice thick with lust.

“Yes,” she gasped, her nails digging into my skin. “Please, I need it.”

I thrust into her in one swift movement, the sensation almost too much to bear. She was tight, wet, and perfect, her body clenching around me as she cried out. I didn’t give her a chance to adjust, my hips already moving, driving into her with a ferocity that left us both breathless.

“Fuck, yes,” Jenna moaned, her head falling back as I pounded into her. Her hands gripped my shoulders, her nails leaving marks as she clung to me. Every thrust pushed her higher, her cries growing louder as she spiraled toward her release.

It was raw, primal, and entirely unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. The mist had changed something in me, awakening a hunger I didn’t know I had. Jenna’s body was my only focus, the only thing that mattered as I claimed her again and again.

“Harder,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.

I obliged, my hips slamming into hers with a force that made her scream. The sound sent a jolt of pleasure through me, spurring me on as I drove her closer to the edge.

Jenna’s gasps turned into an unhinged cry, her body arching off the dance floor as I drove into her with relentless force. Her nails raked down my back, and I hissed at the sharp sting, but it only fueled me further. This wasn’t just sex—it was an explosion of raw need, a hunger that burned through every nerve in my body.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she screamed, her voice trembling between pitches. Her legs clamped around my waist, pulling me deeper, harder. I could feel her tightening around me, her body convulsing in waves as she neared her peak.

I gripped her hips, my fingers digging into her soft skin, and pounded into her like a man possessed. The rhythmic slapping of our bodies echoed through the club, blending with the bass of the music. Her cries grew higher, more frantic, until they broke into a full-throated scream. Her body shuddered violently, and then—

She came hard. Her pussy clenched around me like a vice, and I felt a rush of warmth as she squirted, soaking the floor beneath us. Her thighs shook uncontrollably, and she let out a strangled moan as the intensity of her orgasm consumed her.

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. The sight of her writhing in ecstasy, the feeling of her tight, wet heat around me—it was too much. My own release was building, a fire in my gut that threatened to consume me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I growled, my voice rough and guttural. My hips slammed into hers with a final, desperate rhythm. My balls tightened, and then I was coming, hard and fast, my cock pulsing deep inside her.

I roared as I emptied myself into her, the pleasure so intense it felt like my body was shattering. My vision blurred, my muscles locked, and for a moment, I was lost in the pure, animalistic bliss of it.

I collapsed on top of her, both of us panting, drenched in sweat and the evidence of our frenzy. My cock was still buried inside her, twitching with the aftershocks of my orgasm. I could feel her heartbeat racing against my chest, her breath hot and shallow against my neck.

I pulled out of her slowly, my cock still twitching, and stood up, my chest heaving. I looked down at Jenna, her legs splayed open, her body trembling. My cum was already dripping out of her, sliding down her thighs and pooling beneath her on the sticky floor. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips—messy, raw, perfect.

The mist around us began to thin, dissolving like smoke in a breeze. The hard thump of the bass dropped away, leaving nothing but silence, heavy and unnatural. The lights flared to life, harsh and white, slicing through the shadowy haze of the club. What the fuck was going on?

I blinked, the world sharpening into a chaotic blur. The room was alive with the sounds of sex—moans, groans, the wet slap of skin on skin. People writhed in lust, some still caught in the throes of it, others sprawled on the floor, their fingers lazily tracing the wet mess between their thighs. Across the room, Ethan was buried deep inside of Lila, his thick, hairy ass bouncing in rhythm, her muffled cries of pleasure lost in the chaos. Her hands clawed at the floor, her back arching as she took every inch of him, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream of ecstasy. Each of his thrusts sent shockwaves through her body, her heels digging into his hips, urging him on. Her moans became more frantic, her breath hitching in her throat as she was pushed closer to the edge. Ethan’s grunts grew louder, his hands gripping her thighs to keep her in place as her body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the sheer force of his relentless pace. Then the mist started to recede, its effect wearing off like a fading dream. My head snapped down to Jenna, dazed and splayed out beneath me, her body still trembling with the afterglow. “What the fuck?!” I shouted, scrambling to cover myself, shame clawing at my chest. Ethan froze mid-thrust, his cock still buried deep inside of Lila. He jerked back, pulling out with a wet pop, her body shuddering violently as she gasped for air, her legs trembling and her pussy clenching involgently around nothing. “What’s happening?!” His voice cracked, panicked, and he stumbled to his feet, cum dripping down his thighs. A voice crackled over the speakers, cool and detached. “Thank you for participating in Experiment 5. We hope you enjoyed your experience.” Ethan and I locked eyes, wide with shock, then turned to the women we’d just fucked. Their dazed expressions mirrored our confusion, their lips swollen, bodies slick and bruised. Our gay effeminate screams echoed through the club, high-pitched and panicked, as the truth of what we’d done—what we’d all done—settled over us. The last remnants of the mist vanished into the air, leaving nothing but the aftermath of chaos and shame in its wake.

[devinpink]

Cap On. Gay Off.

Seconds after putting on his bro cap, his mind transformed, going from gay to straight. He instantly got hard and desperate for pussy, quickly shifting his attention from his boyfriend to the girl eye-fucking him from across the room. His tongue instantly salivated, hungry for her huge tits and tight pussy. Perverted fantasies of breeding her flooded his newly straightened-out mind, no condom or pulling out—what a true straight alpha bro would do!

[b0dyshaper]

Through a Straighter Lens

Jay was a scrawny, gay guy just trying to become an influencer. He had a passion for fashion and wanted the whole world to see. His boyfriend supported him 100% and even bought him some filming equipment, which included a new phone to replace his old one with a shitty camera!

He’d already booted & set it up, now all that was missing was for him to take some pictures to post on instagram.

Huh that’s weird, he thought. He couldn’t find the regular camera app anywhere, and it wasn’t on the App Store for some reason. The only thing similar he found in his apps was a weird app with a black and white striped icon called “STRAIGHTER LENS” so he opened it up and it was… well, weird.

It was a camera app, and thee background did look like what was behind him but, the guy holding the phone wasn’t Jay. He was muscular, taller, and… just bigger in all aspects. Not to mention the guy was basically naked with his boxers stretched to the max. Even weirder, it seemed like the clothes Jay was wearing were scattered on the floor, all torn…

Jay simply thought, What a weird camera app, at least the guy is hot, let me take a pic to remember him…

CLICK, SNAP—

In a split second, blinding light filled Jay’s vision, and when he finally got his sight back, he looked down to find his tiny, young body had suddenly become that of the guy in the picture’s. Like a prophecy that had come to pass, it was all like in the app, his clothes were ripped to shreds by his own body tripling in size.

He was scared, terrified even, but when he looked up into the mirror and saw himself… he just couldn’t help but flex. This new boy was so perfect in every way! He was sure his boyfriend CHICKS would love it to

Yea, he was gonna get so much fuckin’ pussy—

Wait huh..? What was he saying he didn’t like girls…

With guns like these he could totally just pick one up and eat her out while standing!

N-No… That’s all wrong…

Plus, no girl could resist that 12 incher he was packing, they always say it won’t fit and yet he makes it!

no…

…

And suddenly, Jay was no make.

Only Jake remained, he’d already blocked his ‘boyfriend’ and was now searching for some clothes that’d actually fit his new physique to go pick up a girl to breed.

[devinpink]

Can anyone recommend me gay to straight hypno files?

[devinpink]

Straight Stoner Bro

Mike has no idea his buddies are giving him pussy kush, a strain that turns you into an arrogant, douchey straight bro who's obsessed with pussy. Mike's already feeling the urge to flex and gloat about how "swole" he is, so it won't be long before he's starving for pussy. Pussy kush is also highly addictive. Mike's gay days are over, and that fact has his buddies beaming from ear to ear. Mike's going to be one of them now, a straight stoner bro for life!

[dreamertf]

You think im looking bigger? Huhu thanks man, been working hella hard on these things..

What do you mean thats not what you meant? I've been 6'5 since middle school bro. You feeling ok? Hey man, if you think im hot i'd take it as a compliment, I can see you gettin all flutered and shit. hell i'd even let you give me some sloppy, but no homo bro.

Why would i stop calling you bro, bro?

By the way, you've been looking pretty jacked yourself, bro.

[transform4u]

Breeding the Future

Sebastian had never looked better.

The Pride parade glittered around him like a moving carnival of pleasure, and he was its centerpiece: cropped mesh tee clinging to his lean chest, glitter tracing his sharp cheekbones, shorts so tiny they were barely legal. His thighs were smooth, polished, skin shining under sunscreen, smelling faintly of coconut and vanilla.

He was the kind of boy you photographed, then lusted over in bed later. A tight, shaved, pink-cocked twink who knew his worth, mouth dripping with practiced sarcasm, sipping from an overpriced iced matcha with a metal straw.

And then she showed up.

Blocking the sidewalk, muttering psalms, fanning herself with her palm like she could brush the queerness off the streets with sheer disgust. Floral dress, Bible tucked under one arm like a purse, cheap gold cross hanging on her wrinkled chest. Damp, angry, lost.

Sebastian couldn’t resist.

“Oh, honey,” he drawled, stepping in front of her, hand on his cocked hip. “Didn’t you hear? God doesn’t do RSVP anymore. He’s too busy ghosting your church.”

Her eyes snapped to him, pure Christian rage, centuries of sermons packed into that pinched glare.

“You boys flaunt your sins. But pride cometh before destruction.”

Sebastian laughed, flipping his bleach-blond fringe. “Destruction? Bitch, I am destruction. Have you seen my ass?”

That’s when she said it. Quiet, almost like she was saying it to someone else:

“Then let your pride be your curse.”

The heat hit first.

Not hot like summer.

Hot like infection.

His stomach cramped, sharp and sudden, sloshing the matcha inside him like sour milk. Sweat prickled at the small of his back, dampening the elastic waistband of his cute little shorts. His first instinct was to gasp—but the noise that came out was wrong. Too low. Gravel under silk.

He staggered backward, trying to keep balance on his delicate Converse, but something was off with his weight. He felt heavier. Meatier. The mesh stretched across his chest—no longer delicately showing his ribs, but pushing against something… dense.

“Fuck… the hell’s goin’ on…” The slur in his voice wasn’t his usual camp. It was lazy. Like someone who couldn’t be bothered to speak clearly.

His armpits—once fresh, sweet, carefully scrubbed this morning—were wet. And not twink sweat. Man sweat. Sharp. Acrid. The smell hit him like a punch. Like the time he’d accidentally walked into the men’s wrestling locker room at his old high school.

“Ughh—” he gagged, raising an arm, seeing—no, smelling—thick, curling black hair spreading under there like invasive weeds. Sweat beads clung to it, trickling down his smooth torso, leaving salt trails.

A group of lesbians on the curb gave him a look. Pity. Confusion. And worst of all: disgust.

“N-no, I—I don’t—” His voice cracked downward again. Meaty. Dumb. Someone else’s dad’s voice emerging out of his pretty-boy throat.

And then it happened.

BRRRRRAPPPPP.

The fart burst out of him like a wet cough, long, bubbling, hot. It clung to his thighs, greasy and rancid, curling upward into his nose.

And worse—he liked it.

The shame hit next. His cheeks burned. His body felt like it belonged at a sports bar now, not a Pride parade. The kind of man who sat on the porch shirtless scratching his gut and yelling at CNN.

A tremble ran down his arms, and he saw it—hair. Curling along his forearms, spreading like a plague, darkening as his toned twink arms bulked, flesh puffing up under his skin.

And the thoughts started trickling in.

Fuckin’ fruits everywhere…

“No! No, I don’t— I’m gay, I’m fucking—” he whimpered, voice cracking under panic, but already it sounded like a straight bro’s whine about having to mow the lawn.

The church lady just watched.

And smiled.

“Oh, honey. You wanted to mouth off. Now you’ll know what it’s like when a man speaks.”

Sebastian clutched his chest—but it wasn’t delicate anymore. It was swollen. Thick pecs pushing the mesh outward, nipples stiff beneath the fabric. It wasn’t a gay chest anymore—it was a dad chest. And the nipples weren’t cute—they were the kind of big, hairy ones you’d see poking out of beer-stained undershirts at county fairs.

He could smell himself stronger now. Like meat. Like a lawnmower left in the sun. The scent of his own armpits mixing with the sharp, sour male crotch scent rising from his shorts.

His free hand absently scratched at his belly, the lazy, gross gesture of a man who didn’t care who saw his gut, because he knew he was the boss of the backyard.

“Whole city’s gone queer…” he mumbled under his breath, farting again, hotter this time, cheeks flaring with shame—but another part of him, the growing, ugly, man part, didn’t even flinch. Just let it rip.

The last glitter on his face mixed with the new sweat, running in streaks like a washed-up birthday clown.

Somewhere, deep in the back of his fogging mind, Sebastian tried to cry out. To scream for help.

But the next words out of his own betraying lips were:

“Shoulda been home drinkin’ a fuckin’ Bud. Can’t even walk downtown without steppin’ in this gay shit.”

His pink-painted nails cracked, flaked, and yellowed like rotting petals, replaced with blunt, thick fingernails, dirt under the edges. Dad nails.

And still, the heat climbed.

Still, the smell got worse.

And still, he farted. Lazy. Wet. Like he didn’t even care.

The church lady just smiled softly, murmuring, “It’s only just beginning.”

It was spreading faster now.

Sebastian staggered into the middle of the street, clutching his chest, feeling it bubble. Not soft anymore—not cute. His pecs were growing, thick slabs of muscle pushing the mesh outward like a sausage casing about to burst. The nipples beneath were big, wide, swollen, ringed with dark hair curling outward like spider legs around bottlecaps.

It wasn’t cute.

It was masculine. Ugly.

Alpha.

He reached up—instinctive, panicked—but instead of batting at his sweaty bangs, he felt coarse, thick sideburns growing downward along his jawline, bristling and greasy. His chin jutted outward, jaw squaring into a heavy, meathead block.

“No, no, no, I’m—I’m gay, I’m—”

The thought tried to rise, but got smothered by something filthier, louder:

“Fuckin’ gay shit everywhere. Buncha fairy boys prancin’ around like they ain’t gonna burn.”

He grunted, loud, full-bodied, dumb, as his neck widened, traps climbing up toward his ears. That delicate little Adam’s apple of his was now a thick knot of muscle and testosterone.

His forearms continued to explode outward, veins crawling up through layers of new bulk, wrist thickening, palms rough like sandpaper. Hair sprouted down his knuckles, curling black, greasy with sweat and street grime.

His mesh crop ripped straight up the middle, exposing a thick, sweat-slicked power gut, packed muscle under the layer of BBQ softness. His belly swelled with each greasy, bubbling fart that vibrated out of his shorts.

No longer a lean twink.

Now: a power-belly meathead.

“Shit… shit… fuckin’ can’t… fuckin’…”

His voice was gone. Completely. What was left was pure meathead jock: slurred, stupid, thick with muscle and beer. Like every word had to fight through inches of sweaty muscle before it left his throat.

The worst part? He liked it. The panic was shrinking, drowning under pure, chemical, testosterone-fueled pleasure. He grunted, absently scratching his gut, letting another BRRRAAAP rip against his sagging boxer briefs like a badge of honor.

And that’s when the tits started.

The images poured into his head like rotten milk over cereal. Bimbos. Trashy. Fucking huge, silicone, plastic-surgery disasters, wobbling and bouncing. Lip filler lips choking, gagging on his cock. In his new mind, the only purpose for women was to get bred and swallow cum.

“F-fuckkk… imagine those fuckin’ melons… face-fuck that bitch till she’s gaggin’ on it, knock her up nice n’ fat, give ‘er a real Christian fuckin’ family...”

Another fart. Another scratch at his sweaty, hairy gut.

His thighs were massive now—football-thick, veined, black hairs stuck to wet skin. His boxers could barely contain the lump swinging between his legs: not cute, not aesthetic, just fat, sweaty, dad meat, reeking of old cum, old sweat, and cheap aftershave.

People passing by stared—not with attraction now, but horror. Wrinkled noses. Gagging. Whispers.

But he didn’t care. Not anymore. He grinned, yellowed teeth on full display, sweat running into his thickening beard stubble, smelling like cheap chili dogs and backyard grills.

And then the last piece clicked into place:

“I gotta get home… Wife prob’ly needin’ me… Got work tomorrow, gotta take the boys to church after I bust a load into that fat fuckin’ pussy.”

Wife. Kids. Church. It was all there now, as real to him as anything had ever been.

“God gave us tits for a reason,” he muttered, like quoting a favorite verse.

Behind his eyes, the parade blurred into nonsense. Gay shit. Waste of taxpayer money. Drag queens? Disgusting. Faggots prancin’ around in dresses? Should be arrested.

All that mattered now was God. America. Breeding.

The church lady nodded. “A strong father. That’s what the Lord makes of prideful boys.”

BRRRRPPPTT.

The final fart echoed off the surrounding buildings, loud, bubbling, stinking of hot dog water, wet socks, and cum. His boxers clung to his hairy ass, damp with sweat and flatulence.

And then he saw her again. The woman.

And—God help him—he knew her.

Not just knew her.

Recognized her.

Memories erupted behind his eyes, slamming into his brain like sledgehammers.

Sunday school picnics. The pastor’s office. Wedding vows. Kids. Kids screaming for more juice boxes. Buying lumber at Home Depot. Standing in church with this woman on his arm. Wearing a sweat-stained baseball cap backward like a real man.

“I—I fuckin’—you’re my wife…” he gasped, horrified, but also— excited. His cock twitched, fat, ugly, dad meat pressed against his overstuffed boxers, a wet sweat stain forming under the outline of his swelling, half-hard junk.

“Bradley,” she said gently. “Kiss your wife.”

He tried to resist.

His face lunged forward.

He grabbed her, meaty hands wrapping around her waist, feeling the soft fabric of her dress bunched up under his cracked fingers. And then kissed her—wet, sloppy, greasy—smashing his lips against hers like a drunken trucker coming home from a fishing trip.

She didn’t fight it. Welcomed it. Tongue sliding against his, tasting the tang of old chili dogs and last night’s beer farts on his breath.

He pulled back, panting, belching softly, sweat pouring down his sides, stomach pushing against her like a fat dog desperate for a rub.

“F-fuck, I missed these lips,” he slurred, like the memory had always been there, just buried under Pride flags and TikTok dances. “Wife always got the nicest knockers too…”

His eyes darted down to her chest, the matronly swell of fabric over old-fashioned brassiere. In his head now: a flood of thoughts.

Bimbos. Huge fake tits. Choking. Gagging. Breeding. Belly round with his cum. Fucking pregnant, like God wanted.

He grunted, loud, crude, gripping her hips possessively. “Fuck, babe, I’m gonna knock you up again. Give us another little Republican. Name ‘im after my dad.”

RRRRTTBBPPPTT.

Another wet, lazy fart buzzed through the overstretched crotch of his boxers. Didn’t even flinch. Didn’t even care. Just scratched his hairy belly, letting the stink leak upward, curling around both of them like a curtain of pure man.

His cock pulsed, stiff, throbbing, eager for bimbos, for cheap motel rooms, for knocking up dumb sluts with full lips and empty heads.

“Fuckin’—fuck, I’m so horny, babe… Gotta dump a fat fuckin’ load somewhere soon… Maybe after church, yeah?”

The glitter on his cheeks was just streaks of sweat now, dripping into his scruffy beard, stubble thickening into a lazy conservative chin-strap, crusted with drool from that sloppy kiss.

The crowd backed away, faces twisted in revulsion.

Sebastian was gone.

Bradley, 39, Christian father, MAGA voter, fart machine, tits-obsessed, proudly ignorant, heterosexual, dumb, sweaty, horny, married, and ready to fuck.

He grinned, cock throbbing against the stinking fabric of his wet boxers, fist resting against his gut like a proud lion surveying his territory.

“God, beer, tits, and family. That’s all a man needs. C’mon, babe. Let’s go home an’ make another Republican.”

And then—burp.

[b0dyshaper]

It’d been days since Garret had seen his boyfriend, last thing he knew Liam had been accepted to do some weird clinical trial for virility. His absence was starting to get concerning until finally a new notification from him appeared, a picture…

What the hell? His boyfriend was the scrawniest twink around, who on earth was this douche??

“Who are you? Where’s Liam???”

“Liam?”

“Oh you mean that tiny fag I used to be, pfft yea he’s fucking gone”

“What do you mean gone??”

“Are u stupid? He turned into me, and thank god he did. His cock was wasted on a fag, I’ve already knocked up three girls it it. Impressive right?”

“That trial boosted his testosterone so high that I finally got to come out, he really did try to fight it, but life is just better as a buff pussyhound”

“You’ll love it too, just wait and see”

After that, ‘Liam’ blocked him. Garret was distraught, it couldn’t be true right? No way a drug could really make someone as sweet as garret into… that!

Soon after, his doorbell rung, and waiting for him outside his door was a package sent by… the LGBTQ+ Support Foundation? He opened it up and found a letter alongside a bottle of pills.

“Dear cherished community member,

As you have disclosed yourself as a gay man on our last survey, we have decided to send you a freebie, on the house!

This is a bottle of our newly approved virility boosters. As we have seen from our clinical trial participants, we can assure you they’ll make you a whole lot happier.”

[b0dyshaper]

Frat Welcome Party

Jason didn’t expect much from this party, he just needed an excuse to get out of his dorm. He was, frankly, a scrawny loser. He had made no friends since coming to campus and he thought maybe, just maybe, he’d find someone likeminded at this dumb welcome party. He didn’t wanna get his hopes up, but he really hoped that, by some miracle, he’d find another gay guy there.

Finally he worked up the courage to actually enter the frat and— eugh! What on earth was that smell..? The air was thick with a smell Jason could only describe as unwashed jockstrap. How on earth was he the only one who seemed disgusted?

… Whatever, he’d just ignore it for as long as possible. He didn’t even take three steps inside before one of the frat brothers bumped into him and spilled his beer all over Jason’s shirt. “Yo, sorry dude! Didn’t see ya there!” Jason wanted to yell at him, “Watch where you’re going, jackass!” “Nah, it’s no problem, brah. This shirt was already getting too tight for me anyways!” He covered his mouth as soon as he said it. Brah..?! Since when did he ever say that?! Better question, why WAS his shirt feeling tighter..?

What the hell?! When did he get so… big? He never exercised, he found it exhausting EXHILARATING. Ack— his head was throbbing, whose… thoughts were these? Were they ARE his?.

H-He just, needed to relax… it must just be the excitement from being in a new place. He was couldn’t actually be getting bigger and thinking these weird, douchey normal thoughts!

Fuck, his headache was just getting worse and this faggy shirt wasn’t helping! Ugh he just wanted to— RRRIIIP— damn, that felt SO much better! A bod like his shouldn’t be hidden behind fabric, especially not with all those hot chicks around!

Wait, h-huh? He didn’t like girls, what was he on about? He was totally gonna get laid tonight, fuck he was already eyeing a blonde in the corner~

H-He liked dudes, he was gay— Seriously, how could fags even exist when pussy was just SO fucking good!

Jason could barely discern between what was him and whatever the other thoughts were… what if this WAS him..?

He couldn’t remember his… anything anymore! What— What was his name..?

… Jake.

Yea, what was he on about? His name was Jake, duh! He was a business major, and a proud brother of this frat! God, maybe be needed to drink some more, beer always got rid of those pesky thoughts.

[b0dyshaper]

What? I thought you said you wanted to be manlier? That’s exactly what I made you.

Don’t you feel that testosterone burning its way down your body? That newfound muscle aching to flex? Those tiny prickly feeling of new hairs sprouting all over your body?

Sure you’re quite a bit older now, but chicks dig that. Huh? Oh you’re gay? Pfft, yea no that won’t stay that way for long, after all a MAN likes pussy.

[catton346]

Silent Majority

Im tired of blue dots like you messing shit up for us, the silent majority. That's right the majority. You might think youre "morally right" or whatever with your civil rights but that ends right here and right now bubba. No more grindr hookups, no more bottoming, no more of this clean shaven twink act. No. Im gonna make you the man you were born to be. Youre gonna be a womanizer, a breeder, real man's man. You can try to fight it all your want, you can try to stop it but look at how thick and heavy youre getting. Look at the hair creeping down yours arms. What? You think you cant be a country boy like me? Thats funny! Theres only one major difference between you an me: I embrace being a man and while you pretend youre not one. But youve got a cock, and by the way you cant stop rubbing it I bet its already hanging lower now, bet your foreskin has already regrown. Since you reach maturity I bet youve wanted to bury that cock deep in some pussy but your gay little brain told you not to. But im here to let you free. Im here to make you the man you were born to be. Trying to fight it? That's cute. Why dont you rub your head? Where did your twinky long locks go? They fell out. all that testosterone in your system now. You should see your beard. What do you mean what beard? Feel your face. Feel that long beard, your pride as a man, your mane. Bet chicks love it. They love your thick beard as your pound your cock deep into them, impregnate them, and make them carry your kids. What do you mean youd never do it? You already have. Look at you! thick, blue collar daddy, with a beard and a cock desperate for pussy. Youll never be able to play the twink now and I dont think youll want to anymore. Yeah thats it. give in. get sleepy. When you wake up youll be nothing but a pussy hound, just like you were meant to be.

[bigification]

Bootcamp

Eddie faintly opened his eyes, watching the trees rush by through the window. The sound of the truck driving over dirt roads almost soothed him, reminding him of the road trips he used to do with his dad as a kid. But as the truck passed a tall barbed wire fence, he was reminded of the prison he was now stuck in.

The truck came to a stop beside a large building in the middle of the woods. Eddie, along with a couple of other guys around his age, were dragged out and forced to line up in front of the truck.

"You maggots all find yourself here because you lack respect. Respect for your families, for your country, and for masculinity." Shouted an intimidating man in a military uniform. "You will call me Sargeant and nothing else! Training starts immediately. You will be stripped of your possessions and shown to your room. Meet back here in 10 minutes or you will regret it!"

As the group made their way inside, the Sargeant stopped Eddie.

"Not you." He said, pulling Eddie back. "You're John's kid, right?"

"Ugh, yeah."

"Hah, just pathetic. Who knew a man like John could raise a freak like you. College rotted your brain, made you weak." The Sargeant laughed.

Eddie's eyes welled up as he thought of every time his father spoke to him just like that.

"Quit bitching!" He yelled. "Your father is a great man, he taught me everything I know. That's why he's entrusted me with making sure every last drop of queer is wrung out of you, and I won't let him down."

"My father is a monster." Eddie wiped away his tears.

The Sargeant frowned before slapping him across the face.

"I will break down every last part of you and rebuild you into a man your father can be proud of." The Sargeant smirks. "Now, put on some real clothes. None of that gay shit you're wearing."

He tossed a small duffle bag with some clothes inside. The smell of sweat hit him like a brick wall as he opened the bag. Eddie gagged as he pulled out a camo green jockstrap.

"It was your father's. I hoped it could make you more like him. Put it on. Now."

"What?" Eddie said, confused.

"You heard me! Stop being a pussy and get undressed."

Eddie got red as he started peeling off his clothes, revealing ribs under his pale skin. He paused for a moment, hesitating as he grabbed the jockstrap. He looked up at the Sargeant, feeling trapped by his intense glare. With an exasperated sigh, he slipped on the jockstrap.

The large jockstrap struggled to hold itself up around Eddie's skinny body. It looked comically large on him, but that wouldn't last long.

A warmth began to emanate from his crotch. His cock twitched as it started to swell, growing to a sizable 5 inches soft as it filled out the empty space in the jock.

"What the fuck!?" Eddie cried.

"Let it happen boy. That pecker of yours wasn't suitable for a real man, soon you'll be a breeding machine." The Sargeant laughed.

The jockstrap suddenly tightened around his waist as his flat ass rose like a loaf of bread, becoming round and perky. Something the gays would fawn over but couldn't have.

Even more, his chicken legs thickened as defined muscles rippled through his thighs and calves. And his shoes strained against his growing feet before bursting, showing off his wide, size 16 feet. Eddie was too distracted by his growing lower body to notice that he had grown taller, from a measly 5"6 to a more average 6"0, now standing eye to eye with the Sargeant.

Eddie desperately tried pulling the jockstrap off, but it didn't budge, as if it were part of him now.

"Not so fast." The Sargeant chuckled. "You ain't taking that off until every part of you has become worthy of being called a man."

Eddie struggled to find the words to say as the transformation continued to his upper body. His core tightened as his waist slimmed down, giving his body a V shape. His flat stomach rose into a strong set of abs with a healthy layer of fat on top. All while puffy muscles piled into his chest, creating two juicy pecs that bounced with every step he took.

"My god... This feels good." Eddie said in a completely foreign voice, deep and gruff, almost like his father's.

His body continued to grow. His height increased further, towering over the Sargeant at a staggering 6"5. And to match his height, his shoulders broadened, complimenting his large barrel shaped chest.

Eddie started to forgot how horrible this situation was as his arms surged with power. His biceps swelled to the size of his head, his forearms grew larger than his biceps used to be, and his hands doubled in size, becoming thick and calloused like those of an honest working man.

"That's right boy, enjoy it, you're becoming a real man!" The Sargeant shouted.

The muscles around Eddie's neck thickened as the transformation reached his head. His thoughts became cloudy as his face morphed. His jaw widened as his education faded away, being replaced by the traditional values instilled by his father. His skin weathered and aged as his time creating art turned into time hunting and training with his father. And his hair receded and shortened to a buzz cut as his boyfriend faded from his mind, being replaced by the countless girls from his hometown that he knocked up. But it's not his fault, strong seed just runs in the family, that's why Eddie's got countless half brothers and sisters out there.

And as a final touch, thick brown hairs began to sprout all over his skin as high levels of testosterone pumped through his body. A well trimmed beard grew across his sharp jaw, complimenting his receding hairline. And thick pelts of hair spread over his chest, stomach, arms, and legs. An intoxicating musky odour began to emanate from his body as sweat became trapped in his forests of hair.

"Feels good don't it." The Sargeant said as he approached Ed.

"Hell yeah, brother." Ed flexed with a dumb smile.

"Good man." The Sargeant patted him on the shoulder. "Here try these on for size."

The Sargeant pulled a hat, sunglasses, and boots out of the nearby duffle bag. They fit perfectly, making Ed look just like the other men helping run the camp, barring the lack of clothes.

"I like it Sarge." Ed said as he stepped onto the picnic table.

"Good. Though the clothes I brought for you won't fit, you grew larger than anyone here ever has."

"No shit I'm the strongest here." Ed started flexing again.

"You sure are." The Sargeant chuckled. "Follow me, big guy. I'm sure we have something inside that'll fit you. Then we can start your training."

[devinpink]

The Cup

I felt the change the second I slipped my big bro's sports cup over my cock. It was like magic, bro! I suddenly had the body of a jock god, totally unrecognizable from the scrawny weakling I once was. I was suddenly in full uniform too! It was awesome, bro! I instantly got why my big bro had that dumb expression all the time. My mind got mad stupid, like it melted down into my newly fat nuts, bro! All I could think about was lifting and fucking. My donger totally doubled in size, too; the cup could hardly contain me! I needed release, and beating off wasn't gonna cut it. I needed pussy! The cup like exterminated my gayness, bro. No desire for cock at all! As if I cared, though. Being straight is way better! Now I can get a hot cheerleader girlfriend and fuck her till she's pregnant! Fuck yeah, bro! Coach will love that! I'm gonna make coach so fucking proud, bro!

[b0dyshaper]

What? I thought you said you wanted to be manlier? That’s exactly what I made you.

Don’t you feel that testosterone burning its way down your body? That newfound muscle aching to flex? Those tiny prickly feeling of new hairs sprouting all over your body?

Sure you’re quite a bit older now, but chicks dig that. Huh? Oh you’re gay? Pfft, yea no that won’t stay that way for long, after all a MAN likes pussy.

[catton346]

Silent Majority

Im tired of blue dots like you messing shit up for us, the silent majority. That's right the majority. You might think youre "morally right" or whatever with your civil rights but that ends right here and right now bubba. No more grindr hookups, no more bottoming, no more of this clean shaven twink act. No. Im gonna make you the man you were born to be. Youre gonna be a womanizer, a breeder, real man's man. You can try to fight it all your want, you can try to stop it but look at how thick and heavy youre getting. Look at the hair creeping down yours arms. What? You think you cant be a country boy like me? Thats funny! Theres only one major difference between you an me: I embrace being a man and while you pretend youre not one. But youve got a cock, and by the way you cant stop rubbing it I bet its already hanging lower now, bet your foreskin has already regrown. Since you reach maturity I bet youve wanted to bury that cock deep in some pussy but your gay little brain told you not to. But im here to let you free. Im here to make you the man you were born to be. Trying to fight it? That's cute. Why dont you rub your head? Where did your twinky long locks go? They fell out. all that testosterone in your system now. You should see your beard. What do you mean what beard? Feel your face. Feel that long beard, your pride as a man, your mane. Bet chicks love it. They love your thick beard as your pound your cock deep into them, impregnate them, and make them carry your kids. What do you mean youd never do it? You already have. Look at you! thick, blue collar daddy, with a beard and a cock desperate for pussy. Youll never be able to play the twink now and I dont think youll want to anymore. Yeah thats it. give in. get sleepy. When you wake up youll be nothing but a pussy hound, just like you were meant to be.