[misctf]

Can we please get a sequel to the upside-down tf posted last January? Would love to see how that virus going around swapped another innocent guy with his cock, making him a dumb horny bro

"Rich, seriously you need to go home." Rich sighed, meeting the worried eye of his coworker Anna, "All the other guys stayed home… as they were told." She continued to lecture him, "Don't you know…"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard the news reports. But do you actually believe all that stuff? I mean, I get that it sounds nasty, but c'mon." Rich smiled, trying to mask his discomfort, "I'm a healthy guy in my prime. What are the odds it would hit me?" He adjusted his watch strap. "Besides, even if I did catch it somehow, they'd figure out a cure quick, right? This is the 21st century after all."

"Rich, seriously. Haven't you seen the news?" Anna insisted, "And not just the news! What about Jake? You heard, right?" Rich nodded slowly- he thought it was just a rumor, "Then you know. How his girlfriend found him midway through the process and…" She shuddered, "Why would you even risk that? To end up as nothing but a…"

"Woah woah, hold up! Spare me the gory details, thanks." He chuckles, a growing sense of unease building. "I'm sure Jake is fine, right? I mean…." Jake was around his age, probably just as healthy as him- always down to go to the bar after work or join the company's softball team. Rich shuddered- when was the last time he was with Jake? Was it recent?

Anna looked away, "Jake didn't make it. By the time his girlfriend got him to the hospital, the inversion was complete. There wasn't anything they could do."

"Holy shit…" he muttered under his breath, "Okay, maybe this whole staying home thing does make some sense after all." He grabbed his bag, "But what about work? I mean…"

"You can take a break for just a little Rich." Anna said, "You're always working too hard anyway."

Rich sighed, "Fine… fine, okay…" He ran a hand through his hair, "Alright, I'm gonna jet. See you when all this blows over."

"Stay safe, Rich." She smiled and watched as he headed out.

--------

Rich rushed through the city streets, his polished shoes tapping against concrete with increasing urgency. As he walked, memories flashed through his mind—beers at the bar with Matt two nights ago, gym locker room chats with Luke earlier that week. Both of them seemed fine then… hadn't they? Matt had sent him a text yesterday afternoon, something about picking up a case of beer, but nothing since. Luke had been quieter too—their usual back-and-forth banter replaced by silence. A cold pit formed in Rich's stomach. If something happened to them… he pushed the thought away, breaking into a jog toward his apartment building.

The elevator ride felt endless. When the doors finally opened on his floor, he froze. His neighbor Tom was slumped against his own doorframe, breathing heavily. "Hey… Rich," he wheezed, "you lookin' pale man. I think... I need..."

Infected. Rich swallowed hard and rushed past him, quickly entering and slamming his apartment door shut. He sunk to the floor, breathing heavily- his back against the apartment door, chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself. Something felt… off. His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and there was an odd pressure building between his legs—not quite painful, but definitely strange.

"Just stress, just stress." He repeated to himself, "Nothing to worry about, I'm okay…"

His phone buzzed twice in rapid succession. Rich fished it from his pocket with unsteady fingers. Two notifications glared back at him—texts from both Matt and Luke. His thumb hovered over the screen before he forced himself to open them.

Matt's message came first: a selfie of a broad-shouldered jock flexing in the mirror, grinning wildly. The caption read: "Dude, check out my NEW DICK! Best upgrade EVER!!"

Luke followed immediately: another shirtless selfie, his bulge proudly displayed. "Who knew getting inverted would feel THIS good? LMAO!"

"HBU Richie?"

"Yeah bro, where you at?"

Rich's vision blurred. His stomach lurched violently, and he fell forward. The pressure between his legs intensified, spreading outward like fire.

"God it burns! Fuck!" Rich cried out, tearing his clothes away and throwing them aside, "So hot… Ice… I need ice!" He let out a moan and fell to his hands and knees, tears dripping down his cheeks, "Wh-what's… this isn't… No... Not me! I can't…" His eyes widened as he looked down at his hands, "God…"

They were changing shape, stretching and thickening. The skin becoming more weathered, coarse hairs sprouting along the backs of his hands.

"Wha…"

Rich stared in horror as his hands elongated… thickened. His fingers shrinking, becoming stubby. His palms forming dense callouses. He shook his head frantically, watching as his once smooth hands morphed into two thick, musky meaty feet. "This isn't happening… it can't be…"

Rich gagged violently, feeling something foul building up in his throat. He coughed, trying to clear it, but only managed to expel a glob of thick, salty fluid onto the floor. "What the fuck…?" He spat again, the taste making him retch.

As he knelt there, shaking, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Slowly, his gaze drifted downward. His arms were… shifting. The muscles rippling, thickening. Dark hairs sprouting along his forearms, spreading upwards towards his shoulders. His biceps and triceps ballooned, squeezing his head between the growing muscle.

"No… please no…" Rich whimpered, watching in terror as his arms lengthened, twisting and contorting. His elbows cracking and shifting into knees, wrists thickening into sturdy ankles.

Rich opened his mouth to scream, but only choked out another gag, more salty fluid oozing from his lips. He coughed and sputtered, moaning as his chest began to ripple and shift. His pecs flattened, stretching outward into a powerful set of abdominal muscles. Meanwhile, his faint six-pack consolidated, the individual abs merging together into a solid slab of rock-hard muscle, bulging outwards into a pair of thick, meaty pecs.

"Mmmphh… stop… stoppppp!" Rich tried to cry out, but the salty liquid kept pouring forth, filling his mouth and nose.

Rich's legs twitched and writhed, the muscles contracting and expanding. His calves stretched, thickening into powerful biceps. His quads rippled and merged, forming massive triceps. His shins elongated, becoming thick forearms. Even his feet shifted, toes curling inward and merging into thick, calloused hands.

A new voice, albeit soft, filled the air. "Hey there, lil dude. What's up with all the gagging, bro? You alright down there?"

Rich forced his eyes upward, struggling to focus through the haze of pain and panic. His gaze landed on a pair of thick, muscular thighs, covered in dark hair. Following them up, he saw a flat, toned stomach, rippling with every movement. His eyes traveled higher, taking in a broad, hairy chest and a smirking face with a strong jawline and piercing blue eyes.

"You're looking a bit rough though, dude. You okay down there?"

Rich tried to respond, but his words came out slow and slurred. Salty fluid leaked from the corners of his mouth, which was becoming harder to move. "Mmph… mmmff.. stop… pl… pleasseee…"

His vision blurred as he watched strands of his once neatly styled hair fall away, drifting lazily to the floor. More salty liquid gushed forth, and he gagged again, feeling it fill his nasal passages. His mouth hung open, slack and unresponsive.

Suddenly, Rich felt a large, calloused hand wrap around his head and neck, gripping tightly. He gasped, trying to pull away, but the grip only tightened.

"Oh, don't worry, little buddy. I'll take care of you." The jock chuckled, giving Rich's head a firm pump. "You might not be the biggest dick in the world, but hey, size ain't everything, right? Know what I mean?"

Rich's eyes watered as he struggled to breathe, his face turning red. The jock's hand moved up and down, pumping him roughly. "Mmmm, yeah. Just relax and let me handle things, okay? I promise I know exactly how to use you right."

As the jock pumped Rich's head, he felt his facial features begin to shift and contort. His sharp jawline smoothed, his high cheekbones flattened. His lips became fixed in their new position- a vertical piss slit. Rich screamed inside as his nose and ears receded, sinking into his flesh. His entire head molding into a single, smooth surface – a bulbous cock head. His neck just a veiny shaft. And with a final pump, he felt the salty fluid surge through his entire form, erupting from his new mouth.

"Oh fuck yeah…." The new jock bellowed, falling backwards in utter bliss.

-----------

Time lost all meaning for Rich. At first, he thought the actual transformation would be the worst part - the agony, the debasement. Going from a living, breathing person with dreams to a leaking fuckstick squeezed between two massive, muscular thighs. But as days turned into weeks, he realized he was wrong. Wrong because he remained aware. Awake. Sentient within his new form. Forced to endure as the new jock lived its life, indulging in whatever pleasures he could, over and over and over again. And Rich was along for the ride. Felt every pump, every thrust as the jock used him to plow through countless holes.

Now, Rich hung limp, twitching weakly as the jock stroked him idly, gazing at the TV. The anchor spoke gravely, "Despite ongoing efforts, researchers have made no progress in finding a cure for the Inversion Virus. Scientists now believe it may be impossible to reverse the effects."

"Hear that, little buddy?" The jock grinned, pumping Rich faster. "Yeah, you like the sound of that, don't ya?" Rich felt his body growing harder, salty fluid oozing from his mouth, "I think we ought to celebrate our new, permanent arrangement, right bro?"

[abstractvanity32]

Don’t Trust the Stranger Decoration

Hannah lounged in the worn armchair of her bedroom, knees drawn up under the heavy knit sweater that swallowed her slight frame. The room carried the faint scent of old books and chamomile tea from the mug cooling on the side table. Soft lamplight pooled across the shelves, catching on the newest addition she had brought home from the estate sale that afternoon: a small carved statue of a revolutionary soldier, its painted uniform chipped but strangely vivid. She had placed it on the shelf without much thought, drawn to its odd intensity.

Night settled deeper outside. Moonlight slid through the gap in the curtains and struck the statue full on. A low hum rose from its base, quiet at first, then swelling into a steady thrum that vibrated through the floorboards and into her bones.

Hannah turned, brow creasing. The carved eyes of the figure glowed a sudden, vivid crimson. Before she could push herself up, a thick pulse of red energy burst from those eyes and slammed into her chest, flooding every vein with searing heat.

The transformation ignited in seconds, though every shift unfolded in excruciating detail.

It began in her torso. Bones creaked and widened, ribs expanding outward with audible pops as her chest barrelled. The sweater stretched tight across shoulders that broadened dramatically, deltoids swelling into rounded slabs while traps rose thick and corded along her thickening neck. An Adam’s apple pushed forward prominently, throat bulging as vocal cords coarsened.

The wave rolled into her arms. Slim limbs convulsed, biceps surging outward in heavy peaks, triceps horseshoeing beneath skin that stretched and toughened. Forearms thickened with ropey veins, wrists enlarging, hands growing broader. Fingers lengthened, knuckles protruding, palms roughening with fresh calluses that felt earned from years of iron rather than pages.

Downward the energy surged. Her flat stomach hardened, abdominal muscles etching deep ridges before a slight layer of solid mass settled over them, the gut of a man who lifted heavy but also drank heavy. Chest hair erupted in a dense red brown mat, spreading across newly formed pectorals that had replaced any trace of breasts. The soft tissue there dissolved completely, flattening into thick slabs dusted with coarse curls that trailed downward in a widening line.

Hips cracked inward with a grinding jolt, pelvis narrowing as bone structure realigned for power rather than curve. Thighs exploded with mass, quadriceps bulging into teardrop shapes, hamstrings knotting beneath skin now covered in dark hair. Calves swelled diamond hard, ankles thickening to support the new weight. Feet stretched longer inside her socks, arches flattening, toes splaying wider as the soles toughened.

Between her legs the change was absolute. Smooth folds sealed without seam, skin puckering and descending into a heavy scrotum that filled rapidly with new testes. Above, flesh pushed outward, lengthening and thickening into a substantial penis, veins tracing its surface as foreskin formed and settled. The sensation registered only as pressure, then belonging.

Upward again, her face reshaped. Cheeks lost roundness, becoming square and rough. Jaw widened and squared, chin jutting forward into blunt prominence. Nose broadened at the bridge, brow ridge thickening. Short blonde hair darkened from the roots, strands shifting to a reddish brown tone, texture turning wiry. Stubble shadowed her skin in an instant, then lengthened into a full, thick beard, red and unkempt, framing heavier lips and a mouth that now defaulted to a faint scowl.

Skin everywhere coarsened, pores opening, a generous coat of body hair spreading across back, shoulders, arms, and legs. Height surged last, spine elongating vertebra by vertebra until she rose nearly a foot taller, the chair groaning beneath three hundred pounds of dense muscle and bulk.

All of it happened in under two minutes, yet each alteration lingered in merciless clarity.

Inside her skull, the crimson energy carried something heavier than flesh: an entire foreign lifetime.

Hannah’s thoughts flared in terror. This is wrong. I have to stop it. I’m Hannah. I read poetry on quiet evenings. I like the way this sweater feels.

But the memories came harder. Locker room laughter, the sting of shoulder pads, the roar of a stadium on Friday nights. The weight of a barbell settling across traps that could take it. Cheap beer after victory, hands of teammates slapping a broad back. A blown knee in the state championship. Scholarship gone. Years sliding by in construction yards and half empty gyms, chasing a body that would never again be twenty one.

Her own past dimmed. The library job blurred. Favorite novels lost their titles. The comfort of soft fabrics and gentle light faded against the sharper glare of fluorescent gym bulbs and the smell of chalk and sweat.

She grasped at fragments. My name is Hannah. I live alone because I like it. I don’t need crowds.

The new mind pressed deeper. Name’s DJ. Always has been. Daniel James, but nobody used the full thing after sophomore year. Star linebacker until the leg gave out. Now just another guy pushing forty, hauling rebar by day, benching heavy by night, trying to feel something close to the old rush. Glory days long gone, and every mirror reminds him.

Resistance thinned. Panic cooled into confusion, then a dull acceptance. The body felt solid, real, powerful in a way her old one never had. Why fight what fit?

Last traces of Hannah dissolved. No echo of her voice, her tastes, her quiet dreams remained.

DJ blinked heavy lids, scratching through the thick beard. He shifted his bulk, the chair creaking dangerously under the new weight. The room looked smaller now, cluttered with books he had no interest in touching. The statue on the shelf sat dull and ordinary again.

He stood slowly, joints popping, and lumbered toward the kitchen. Another night stretching ahead, same as the last hundred: protein shake, late workout, then staring at old game footage on a cracked phone screen until sleep took him. The rush never came back. The crowd never cheered again. Just the slow grind of a body past its prime and a mind that could not let the past die.

He cracked open a beer, sank onto the couch that now fit him better, and settled into the familiar ache of chasing something forever lost. Hannah was gone, erased so completely even the statue held no memory of her. Only DJ remained, heavy and alone, trapped in the long shadow of days that would never return.

[mindyourbod]

Go Truck Yourself

I'd been couchsurfing and doing odd jobs since my parents kicked me out after I came out of the closet, when I saw a classified for a truck driving gig. I had basically zero experience outside of getting my driver's license, but figured a full time job was better than nothing, so I went for it.

I ended up getting the job. Thought it was pretty funny, since I didn't look the part - kinda incongruous having a fresh faced twink as a truck driver, right? Just look at me.

So it was my first real long haul trip solo hauling some produce interstate. I was kinda terrified of having to lease a truck or something, since there's no way I'd have a vehicle remotely suitable, but the company gave me a truck for free. I had to sign this huge contract that made me go a lil crosseyed when I tried to make sense of it. Something about being the right driver for the truck, driving safely, making some lifestyle changes - on the road, I guess? Didn't really make sense, so I skimmed through it and signed.

Anyway, not even half an hour in and I start feeling a lil hot under the collar. Not around, just... hot. Sweaty, itchy even. Keep finding myself scratching my chest, my chin, adjusting myself in the seat. Takes me a couple minutes to notice that I keep touching scruff when I rub at my face.

I usually can't grow much of a beard, and I was clean shaven to begin with. Right? I thought I was, but now I'm not sure.

Anyway, I'm feeling kinda weird, so I pull over to stretch my legs, take 5. Don't know if I'm really supposed to do that, but the company did say to take a rest if I get distracted. They'd rather I get in late over me crashing the truck falling asleep on the road.

So I still feel kinda weird, heavy, almost bloated but not quite? Doesn't really go away. So I hop back into the truck, reach for the steering wheel, and...

What the actual fuck? Since when was I buff? And when the hell did I get this tattoo?!?

I quickly flip down the little shade and eye myself up in the dinky lil mirror. I look totally different. Kinda masc, all stubbly, like a big jock instead of the twink I'm supposed to be. And I'm so sweaty!

So I keep driving, because what the hell else am i supposed to do, mind going a mile a minute, and i keep heating up. I can feel myself sweating more and more - first a little, then a lot, then enough that I can feel it dripping from my chin, down my neck, my chest, sinking into the fabric of my shirt.

When I'm on an empty stretch of road I have a look down to see the damage.

I see a stranger's body where mine should be. This body is sweating like a stuck pig, perspiring so heavily that it's soaked through the sleeveless shirt I'm wearing - hell, is that a hint of plaid I see starting to come through?

Now instead of just a jock, I'm giving more exjock. Or, like, fat jock. Strongfat? Fuck, I don't know. I look like a musclebear, is what I mean. And while I'm looking down, I can see myself swelling even bigger, and bigger. "What the fuck is happening," I say, except it rumbles out of my now-massive chest and comes out far deeper than I'm used to. "Shit, is that my voice?"

I can't spare more than a glance every few seconds or so, since I'm on the highway - there really isn't anywhere to pull over. But with every glance, I feel like I notice more details... or maybe I'm just changing more and more.

By the time I get to where I'm supposed to go, this is how I pull up.

Fuck, man. All those lifestyle changes, becoming the right driver for the truck, those things about consenting to modifying my habits as the company saw fit... it's starting to click.

I should've read that contract a bit more thoroughly. Guess I've really trucked myself.

[bobarr]

[bigwishes]

Bulked Up

Ryan sat in the sauna listening to his stomach grumbling once again.

He had been cutting just under 2 months and it was starting to become unbearable, His abs were starting to look incredible and the veins on his arms made him look like a giant however his constant grumbling stomach made him question if he even wanted to stick to it.

Once again his stomach grumbled and Ryan moaned out of discomfort.

"fuck dude, I wish I could be full and not starving all the time, just get to fucking eat"

Ryan's could feel what he thought was a large bubble rising up in his gut, he didn't know what the sensation was but, he slowly stopped feeling like he was starving and started to feel more content.

---

Later that night Ryan was sitting on his bed, he expected to feel like he was starving to death by now but nothing, if anything he felt ever so slightly bloated, as if he ate too much for breakfast.

His body dysmorphia began to creep back in as he saw his abs starting to slack, looking like when they were only just starting to show at the start of his cut.

Ryan stood up and wandered over to the bathroom to brush his teeth before going to bed. He looked in the mirror noticing a few extra pounds and it was only confirmed as he pinched the side of his waste to see his finder tips fill with a grip of bulk season fat.

"err, i swear I was leaner by now"

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP

A massive belch suddenly blasted out from Ryan's mouth.

---

The next morning Ryan woke up and slowly rolled out of bed, something was weird, he was feeling, stuffed, like he had eaten 3 family dinners to himself, but his mind quickly faded from those thoughts when he saw himself in the mirror.

His abs were almost entirely gone at this point, his gut and muscled were bulked up and he looked like he had taken a bear mode bulk too far for over a year.

"What the fuck, how come I'm getting bigger, Ive hardly eaten anything!" Ryan's gut let out a loud grumble and his grabbed it with both hands gritting his teeth. His stomach slowly started to expand and his barely visible abs completely disappeared under his muscle gut. His muscles slowly got bigger and bigger too, although covered in a slight layer of winter weight. a pound of muscle for half a pound of fat. Bigger and bigger, Ryan had no idea what was happening to him, he wanted it to stop, months of work to see his abs again vanished in an instant.

By the end of it, he was a giant beast, you still knew he was a bodybuilder but it looked like he was on the ass end of a 3 year bulk.

He felt so heavy, he was the biggest he had ever been. You could still see his powerful muscles and core underneath the bearish meat and the moment he flexed there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he was a bodybuilder, even his abs powerfully poked out on the sides.

Ryan groaned as he rubbed his stomach, feeling totally stuffed. As he walked across the room to get a closer look his his new bigger body in the mirror he couldn't help but grab a protein bar from the box on top of his dresser and start eating it.

He flexed in the mirror, unable to even process he was chowing down on his 2nd protein bar within 50 seconds, all he really knew was he was big, and was so full he thought he'd never need to eat again.

As he swallowed another mouthful of double choc protein he felt it struggle to get to his stomach, like he was too full for anything.

"fuck, wish I could get rid of some of this pressure"

-uuuurrppp

Ryan chuckled, at the perfect timing of his words when he suddenly let out another ridiculous belch.

"uughh"

Ryan stumbled backwards sitting on his bed leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked up at the mirror and his mouth cocked open UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP!!!

a titanic belch echoed out of Ryan's mouth.

"fuck" he muttered as he mindlessly bit off another chunk of the chewy protein bar. Almost the instant he swallowed he let out another beast like burp.

---

Poor Ryan couldn't figure out the power his words had, he didn't know some guardian angle was following him granting his wishes to make his life easier and more enjoyable, but hopefully he works it out soon as the beast only had one wish left...

[bobarr]

PixVerse | Create Amazing AI Videos from Text & Photos with AI Video Generator

[megaglatze84]

That is sooo refreshing! Funny I never heard about that lake before. This big guy in the bar was so sweet telling me about it

Love it, look how clean the water is. I just hope there are no actual bears here, haha

Aehm ... wow?

What in Winnie the Poos name is going on here?

Guess there ARE bears here NOW

Come on! Go in, the water is so cool!

Let me go!!

I hate you! I am coming out NOW!

Oh shit ...

is this a BELLY?! I am TWINK

Help? Or ... not? Feels ... funny ...

Mmh, grrr? Heheeh

Come in, Fred! It is lovely!

Leave me alone, Freak!

If I turn into a bear, I swear, I wil ... wait, is that chest hair??

I will kill you, I swear!!!

Come to Papa-Bear!

[roaminghog]

[swellingbeef]

Experimenting with different ai apps? Not sure about the belly but I’m enjoying his facial expression as his belly balloons

[theroidgutarchive]

345lb Eiren Gauley working the chest with the cutest client. 🤤

Almost busted a load multiple times while watching this YT vid. The pecs, the gut, the low cut tanks… 😮‍💨

Like look at this chesty himbo 😍 (No ID on this guy.)

The full video is worth a watch:

[biggerchanger]

- These damn witches… - Adam’s case -

“Adam, we can’t… keep on like this…” Henry muttered with a shiver as Adam’s big weatherbeaten hands rubbed against his smooth thighs.

“But H… I’m… so horny…”

“Remember… that bitch casted you a curse… we’ve gotta find a way to stop it before it gets too much out of hand…”

“But… don’t you like me being… bigger? Haven’t you told me you were a bit of a size queen?”

Keep reading

[bigwishes]

Big's Perma Bulk!

(Community Requested Story, about me perma bulking) What's good bros! It's your favourite wish granting genie here to go on my own transformation journey. Normally I send this kind of thing off to another writer but a lot of you wanted me to be transformation using my own Genie gifts so I've waved my hands and started it off.

I made sure to completely forget about what you guys wanted for me to make it even more surprising but considering all you lot drool at a bicep vein I think I'm in good hands.

After waking up I definitely didn't have anything to worry about. I knew all of you just wanted me to become some big sweaty himbo. Just take a look.

Big arms, thick thighs and a solid chest. I won't lie if I were to make a choice I would of ended up so much bigger than this but hey, it's what you all wanted to I guess I gotta get used to being a himbo stud.

Woah...I guess day two was a little different. I'm a lot bigger ladz so cheers for that but damn, some of this definition is starting to fade. It looks like I'm sliding more to the tank side of the spectrum that the stud side. I'm pretty sure if I move wrong this tank is gonna split in too and my fucking stomach won't stop rumbling, every time I walk in my kitchen I down half a box of cereal, fuck, I should probably take a couple sandwiches back to my desk before I load up some games with the boys.

'BUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPP'

aw fuck, sorry about that ladz but damn. I woke up this morning and my stomach feels so tight, it feels like my abs are about to split in half. My shorts are so tight around my ass.

Damn what the fuck did you guys wish to happen to me? A slab of muscle instead of abs is one thing but fuck my gut is so bloated, ah man

'UURRRRRRRRRRPP!!!'

whoops, sorry dudes, fuck this is so tight but I still feel hungry, maybe a protein shake and a bowl of rice wont gut, surely this can't get any tighter.

ahhh fuck what time is it? 3am?? why the fuck am I so hungry. I didn't even know it was possible to feel hungry and bloated at the same-

BUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP

ah man, what do I have in the fridge, mmmmm half a pizza, well I'm sure a couple of slices won't hurt. I hit the gym pretty hard today, its probably my body wanting to fuel up. mmm yeah just 3 maybe 6 slices and I'll be good for the night, probably best to turn the light switch on so I don't make a mess...

w--what the fuck happened to me! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I'M SO FUCKING BULKY, OH FUCK

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPP

DAMN....fuck well....at least it doesn't jiggle, probably just bloated from how much I've been eating recently, who knew having such big muscles would make me so hungry all the time...

hmmm, I probably shouldn't leave just 3 slices of pizza in the fridge on their, own, that's not even a snack, 9 slices is alright at this time of night yeah?

On the bright side, my muscles have continued to blow up to freakish size, my bicep is bigger than most dude's heads. On the other hand....I can't shift this tank around my mid section. I've been trying to eat less to get my abs back but fuck I can't help it, my stomach growls and I gotta eat enough to feed at least 3 people or else it feels like my stomach is gonna eat itself. It's okay, Ill just cut when summer rolls around, use this time to grow as big as I can, bet my abs will look fucking insane in a few months/

Guess the bright side is I can order that nice chocolate cake with my pizza tonight...I'm pretty sure it's cheat night tonight, or was it last night? hmm, no yeah it is definitely tonight?

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

ah fuck, wh- UUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

what happened - uurp - to me?

a few *hic* days ago I was a lean mean lifting machine

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPPPPP

and now...fuck *hic* uuurp- I'm a big, bulky brute

fuu-UUUUUUUURPPPP-ck, my gut is so tight, moving feels like a chore....I'm so fuckin stuffed and hungry at the same time. Who knew my fans would want me to blow up into a 300lsb bulky beast...

damn...I need a shower but, I could really go for a double cheese burger and a snickers protein thick shake, I'm sure it can wait -uuurrpp- maybe I should grab a couple protein bars for the road..

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPP!!!!

I can still feel the spell under my skin, I wonder how much bigger these guys will make me, or what else they'll do...

[manswaps]

The Cursed Hunk

The deep groans were coming from his room. The door was left slightly ajar, and Seth could hear someone cursing under their breath. As he got closer, he recognized the wet sound of lotion on skin and the slapping sounds of heated sex.

“What the f—“

Laying on his bed was a tall man, one of the best looking he’s ever seen, flexing and desperately jerking off. His eyes were rolled back into his head and it seemed like his hands were touching anything possible. Each time they brushed along his body a shiver would travel and he’d get closer to climaxing.

“Who are you?”

The jock looked at him in shock, covering his rock hard penis with both hands and stood up. “Fuck, sorry man. Seth, it’s me!”

“Get the fuck out of my room!” Seth yelled, “I’m calling the police!”

“No man, wait! It’s me, Jared.”

“Fuck off, dude.”

“No I can prove it!” He began rattling off details about their friendship, his family, even what he ate yesterday.

“J-Jared? What happened to you?”

“I can’t explain right now, just shake my hand and say yes you’ll swap.”

“What? I’m not shaking your hand.”

“Just do it! Please! Fuck, dude.” He released one of the hands covering his sizable cock, giving Seth a glimpse at the hard rod buried in a perfect bush of hair. His eyes glazed over and he smirked. “Sniff my pits bro,” he grabbed his head and smashed it into one of his pits.

Seth’s cock hardened as he breathed in the sweat of the huge man in front of him. “Knock it off!” He yelled. “Fine!” He took out his hand. “I’ll swap!”

Jared grasped his smaller hand in his large one, and Seth felt a heat rise in his chest. It traveled up his throat until he felt it burst out of his mouth. Across from him, the strange man felt the same. Smoke exited both their mouths and Seth’s consciousness slipped from his body. Suddenly, he was in the air, staring down at himself.

A second later, he rushed toward the open mouth across from him. Smoke poured in and he felt himself come back down. He gained control of new limbs, and when it was over, he stared at himself.

He staggered away from his own body. Staring down, his mouth gaped in disbelief. He switched bodies!

His new body was bound in muscle, he gingerly touched the hair on his chest, so used to being skinny and hairless. The feeling of his fingertips was strange and sensitive, like his nerve endings were twice as sensitive as before.

“Thank god,” he heard his own voice say.

“What did you do?!” He was shocked at the booming bass of his voice.

“I’m sorry, I needed to get out of there.” Jared shook his head. “I’ll explain. I was at the gym showering and this man, your current body, came up to me. I thought he was looking for a good time since he had a full on boner, but he was crazy in the eyes. He begged me to swap with him, and I didn’t say no! Look at him! But he stole my body leaving me in his. It’s cursed. I spent a few hours in it and I had to jerk off every 10 minutes.”

“So this guy is walking around in your body?”

“Yes! I didn’t know what to do so I came to you for help, sorry I made I mess waiting. I could barely think as him so I had to swap to explain. Thanks for the break.” His arms patted down his friend’s skinny body, admiring it.

“Shit, look at me,” Seth breathed. His fingers grasped at his furry pecs, he flexed an arm and watched the muscle bounce, it revealed a hairy bush underneath, drenched in sweat. His attention looked downwards automatically, drawn to the hard cock swinging between his legs.

It was glorious, 10 inches, girthy and tan, the head leaking desperately with the need to release. Surrounding it was the bush he had seen earlier, dark brown and so dense, sweaty too. Except now it was attached to him. His own body had wisps, where this one had pubes to spare.

In the mirror, he turned his attention to his new back and ass. It was muscular and defined, and his ass consisted of two big beach ball buns covered in thick hair. He spanked them jokingly, but the sensation made him buck over in pleasure. Against his will, he turned and spread his hairy ass in the mirror, examining his jock hole, before shoving his fingers between the deep crack to massage it.

The sensation brought tears to his eyes. “Fuckkkk, this is so gay. Bro, please switch me back. I’m gonna cum!”

“I hope you don’t mind, but I can’t do that. Go find someone else to take that thing.”

Seth sat down on his muscular butt and began jerking his cock, he marveled at how hard it was, the heat coming off of it was intense.

“Fuckkkkk,” he lifted a bicep and licked along his arm, getting a whiff of the jock scent that drifted from his hairy manly pits. HIS pits. “I’m such a man…this body…”

Jared watched his friend touch every inch of his new body and couldn’t help but get hard himself. “Fuck…Seth. Are you gay? I’m turned on….”

“I’m bi….” He moaned.

They stared at each other a moment, then Jared stripped off his clothing to stand naked in Seth’s body, his smaller but respectable cock also hard.

Seth rutted like an animal against the mattress,

He turned his buns toward his friend. “Fuck me, please,” he gasped.

“Fuck, you want me to fuck you?”

“Please, I think I need it…” he wiggled his hairy globes more. Jared sat transfixed, his new bi body gravitated towards the jock’s sweaty hairy ass. In no time, he spread the cheeks and lapped at his hole.

“You’re so sexy…” Jared gasped, drowning between his friend’s sweaty ass cheeks.

Seth grunted like a beast as he got his ass eaten, he barely had time to register that Jared had lined up his skinny cock to his hole.

He gasped when his tight hole was penetrated. Jared gripped around his massive back to get a better purchase as he fucked his best friend. It was euphoric, seeing his new skinny body fuck the beast below him. In minutes, the room was hot and smelled like an old locker room, thanks to Seth.

The first time Seth came, they had flipped and faced each other. Jared watched his friend’s hairy pecs bounce up and down as his balls slapped his ass rhythmically. Seth had spit in his hand and was furiously hand-fucking his big rod, and his eyes crossed as he shot 7 ropes of hot cum all over his meaty torso.

They fucked for hours, the big jock’s body cumming over and over like a fountain.

That evening, Jared dismounted from Seth who was panting heavily. He was exhausted from fucking this jock for hours on end and headed for the shower.

He couldn’t bring himself to even jerk off again, his new skinny cock was so spent. Seth was the opposite.

When he returned to the room, he saw Seth on his ass again on the floor, both hands wrapped and rotating around his cock.

“We gotta get you out of there, man.” Jared sighed.

“Please, I’m so tired. I’m so fucking horny. Get me someone to swap with…” he groaned, another jet of jock cum spraying across his abs.

“We will, buddy, hang tight.”

Just then, the front door opened. “I’m home!” called Seth’s father, home from work.

Jared raised an eyebrow at his friend who stared back at him in shock. “No! Are you crazy?!”

[manswaps]

Part 2 coming soon, you horndogs 😈 what do you want to see happen?

[mrrharper]

mrrharper Masterpost

what's up bros

to make this blog a bit more accessible, this is gonna be an index of all of my stories and other stuff connected with me, neatly divided into themes

everything's under this pic of a hot stud

Jock TF

Todd goes to a gym / Academic requirements / A Son, Reformed / Muscles In Chains / The Rookie's Figuring It Out / Headphones In, Guns Out / Waiting For The Roommate / Mandatory PE Class / A Real Jock's Supposed to Be Dumb /

Jock-focused

Under Armour Jock™ / Coach's Process of Developing a Jock / More Loyal, More American, More The Same / Muscle Memory / Inside A Jock's Mind / Script For A Jock / No-Trade Clause /

Cop/Soldier reprogramming

Programming Adjustment / Law, Order and Musk / Personal Muscle, Uniform Included / A Guard Programmed To Control And Obey /

Gym Bro TF (and adjacent)

Gym Bro / Bro Advice / A Workout Break / This Is How You Recruit Gym Bros / Waking Up Huge And Jocked / Empty Eyes, Pumped Bis / The Grindset / Big Bro's Job /

Other stuff

Commissions - I am open for commissions. Want me to write you a story? Check the linked post for all the necessary details

#AMA - you can see all the questions I have answered from previous AMAs under this hashtag

Ko-fi page - you can support me and my work on ko-fi

[occamstfs]

No Need to Apply

Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam

Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.

It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.

Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.

Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.

In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air. 

He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.” 

Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”

Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”

It is suddenly dark in the apartment, but wasn’t he looking out the window? He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed but he cannot see. Brock tries to move his head around to see, to feel anything, he strains his mind reaching for any muscle to flex, any tendon to pull, limbs to controt. He loses track of time and reality as he sits in the darkness, trying to grasp anything beyond his own consciousness, unable to affect anything. He feels his right hand move in a familiar way then he feels a warmth, almost a burning, completely engulfs it. He can almost see the shine of a smile, stark perfectly lined teeth that seem eerily inhuman and suddenly there is once more light. He gasps, coughs, and spits up over himself. Immediately grateful that he can feel anything at all. After feeling his body, and seeing the world almost entirely like it was before he lost consciousness, besides a copy of some contract with his name signed at the bottom.

He takes deep breaths feeling his lungs stretch and he starts to read whatever he has gotten himself into in that stupor. He reads the first few lines before he loses where he was on the page. Going again he finds his eyes suddenly dry, doing an uncharacteristically heavy blink that he can’t quite recall ever doing before and as he wonders this he again forgets his work on the contract. He slams his hand on the thigh in a rare show of aggression and gives it one last go. Brock makes even less progress this time as he is almost immediately overcome by a headache. As soon as he looks away from the sheet though, it disappears. 

Brock groans as he feels himself starting to lose control of his senses before he hears his stomach grumble, and he finds a purpose he can immediately resolve. He starts to the fridge, clearly something has happened, an episode or something, he can figure it out later, he just needs food in his stomach now. He doesn’t stop to realize that there should be no food in the fridge since no one’s been living there. Though he finds there is no need as in the fridge, under a note labeled: “To Help Moving In -Lucas,” Brock sees at least a week of prepped meals. The thought that this is bizarre beyond imagination, as well as the concern at his missing time, is immediately pushed from his mind as his stomach rumbles once more, his mouth watering as he sees his soon-to-be dinner.

Brock swiftly heats it up and begins to scarf it down, throwing something on the paying no mind or care to the thought that he’s using the account of whomever the previous tenant was. He quickly scans through seeing a handful of shows and movies that he wasn’t quite interested in before stumbling on a reality show he was watching with his Ex. He grimaces and almost loses his appetite as he thinks about his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He sets his meal down on the coffee table and crashes down onto the couch. He continues to stew in ire at his ex, palming his crotch as his feelings become more passionate. He rolls his eyes in irritation at himself and that jerk, he’s not going to masturbate to that asshole. 

He reclines in the couch and hears the sound of paper shifting in the cushions, pulling it out he finds a crusted magazine lodged in the couch. What can he do besides shout “what the fuck” and toss it across the room. How could they have possibly missed that in their cleaning? Brock’s eyes shift across the room suspiciously, though he notices nothing amiss as the room is illuminated by only the television. He looks at his hand that grabbed the porn and blushes, wanting to joke about the absurdity to calm himself down. Though his body makes its priorities known once more as his cock pulses and he looks past to see the magazine once more. He did want to masturbate to anyone besides his ex right? 

He shuffles to pick it up, the discomfort and anxiety from handling something covered in a total strangers cum only heightens his pleasure as he sits back down. He grimaces as he sees this is a real hetero-bullshit magazine, he quickly flips through to find something he can work with. His cock keeps demanding his attention as he flips through, almost impatiently pulsing as if to suggest he doesn’t need the magazine at all, just give it your attention. Though soon enough he finds an ad for some protein powder made to emasculate the reader into buying, that almost immediately helps him lose control. 

Soon after he once more fades from consciousness, his cum joining the plethora of other stains in the magazine as he tosses it behind the couch. He finds himself in a darkness that this time feels almost familiar and pleasurable. He once more feels his hand, this time though it is wet and warm. He feels it scratching in briefs that are too tight, through pubes that are too thick. He hears snoring breaking through the silence of his sleep, but that can’t be right? He would know if he snores, surely that fucker of a boyfriend would have complained. He feels his head grow warm as if he’s got a fever, though he knows it is a rage. He feels his hand feel even tighter in his briefs as his cock begins to grow in them. He continues to think of every slight his ex made, every shortcoming he was made needlessly aware of, and of how much better things are going to be now.

The heat shifts from his mind through his whole body and as light begins to break through the windows. That is not what wakes him up though, rather it is the heavy scent coming from his now sweat stained clothes. He rolls off the couch onto his face, quickly removing his hand from his briefs to catch himself, landing the stinking hand too close to his face to not smell just how loud his underwear smells. He feels his clothes sit weird on his body as he starts to rise, while his shirt just feels like it’s hanging weird, surely from the sweat, it is impossible to not see how strained his underwear is. He groans as he feels them pull strangely before he just discards them and makes his way to the bathroom. 

His eyes immediately latch onto his now exposed crotch, he does a double take as he notices that it seems distinctly larger. He also would have sworn that he shaved his pubes far more recently than it seems. He scratches through them, blushing as he sees dried cum flake off curls that are longer and thicker than he ever remembers them begin. Rather than hoping in the shower like any reasonable person would do he instead tosses on some boxers, not questioning why clothing that isn’t his would just be lying out, or why he would ever put them on. Instead choosing to focus on how right wearing them feels. He pulls them tight and turns wanting to see just how his ass and bulge fill them out, though is waylaid as his shirt blocks the view. 

He sneers as he takes off the sweat-stained shirt and tosses it to the floor, stretching high as his reeking body feels the air on his skin. He smiles in shock as he sees the body he has now exposed, he sees hair spreading across his stomach and torso and sweat dripping off of pits that were sure to stain every shirt he is to wear from now on. Beyond that he feels a body that is indisputably powerful, where there wasn’t even fat on his body before there was now muscle accompanied with weight in all the right places. His eyes then trail down to see the weightiest part of him by far as it bulges even lower in his boxers.

He feels an urge to move, to flex, to stretch, fill him as he hungrily takes in every new change in his body. His eyes trace their way past muscles contorting to land on his face, seeing a jaw that could certainly do with a shave. He sees his eager grin begin to turn into a cocky sneer as he begins to stretch once more, trying to will his torso even longer, trying to force his body even taller. His voice grows even deeper to his barely-aware ears as he closes his eyes to stretch, not seeing his throat force itself thicker and longer. There is once again a flicker in his mind as Brock is in darkness once more. Where there was once discomfort and fear there is now only hunger and an eagerness to grow even more.

He feels an itch burn across his body. He feels his hands dig deep into his pits scratching as hair grows thick enough to hold an odor that would never dissipate. He smells as even in this dreamstate he raises his hands to his nose to give them a post-scratch whiff. He feels the same itch cry out from his chest and pubes, from his lower back and his ass. He feels himself move his jaw as it squares up, a rumble in his throat as he feels his groans grow even deeper. He feels his mind thicken and slow as his muscles flex in his sleep. His arms do rep after unconscious rep as he feels biceps that should not be rub against a chest that has never been there before.

Finally he wakes one last time, his hand as it apparently always is, shoved in his pants, once more barely fitting despite wearing the spacier boxers. Brock blearily looks to see lines of takeout containers covering his coffee table. He scratches his beard using the hand from his crotch and he deeply inhales, two birds one stone after all. He sets out to get started with his day, tossing over in his head if he should masterbate again or not, a stain from a wet dream clearly showing through his boxers. Instead he throws Drake on his speakers and starts getting an early workout in, seeing to every part of his body getting a pump as he feels the hunger in his crotch grow only more urgent. 

Going about this workout Brock feels totally at home in this apartment. After all he’s lived here for? Uh? His mind empties as he looks around and sees weeks of piled up detritus and filth. He sees dirty clothes and cum stains on his couch. Looking past them there are his American Psycho and Fight Club posters, discarded underwear hanging off the latter, as well as the trophies he distinctly remembers winning back in college wrestling. He smirks and flexes tilting his head to sniff his pit. Beyond feeling at home in his apartment he also feels unequivocally at home in this, in his body, duh. He jumps to his feet with ease, his stomach rumbling as he once more goes to meet a basal need.

Throwing some of his favorite protein powder in a blender with some milk and eggs he hears his phone go off. There are a string of messages from some bitch asking him to come back and for the life in him Brock can’t remember who that little fucker is? Hearing his shake finish blending he stares at the profile picture of whoever this twink is as he starts to down it, wiping his lips on his sweaty arm as needed. The twink he doesn’t know calls him Brock and his eye twitches, ugh. Why is this dude calling him by his, uh? Is that his middle name? Or no he was Brock right?

He finishes the shake, tossing the blender onto the pile of dishes in the sink and his mind finds itself deeply conflicted. As ever though, his body is more than happy to assuage him, the phone vibrates once more and his cock begins to bring him clarity, demanding his attention once more. Brock’s a little bitch name. He smirks as he looks around at his sty of an apartment, not remembering how neat it once was. Peeking from under a particularly dirty dish there’s a contract that he remembers that he meant to have a look at. 

Bringing it to his face however he simply can’t find the motivation to even start. Why worry about this when he can masturbate, or fuck maybe he can get that whiny bitch to come over? His eyes trail to the end of the paper and see his signature, written clear as day “Adam.” He guffaws at this, god how stupid can you be, he basically forgot his own name after that twink called him uh, whatever that bitch name was. He feels his crotch grow tight again, that is kinda hot though? He moans to himself, pawing at his crotch and texts whoever this man is his address and to come ready to fuck. Adam feels no real attachment to whoever it is, nor should he, a hole is a hole after all. Saying that thought he can’t help but feel this hole is due to be taught a lesson.

If you enjoyed this I also recommend @fredwkong's The Voice in Your Head which explores a similar idea in quite a unique and captivating way!

[artificial-transmutations]

Finally Together

When Jerry called, I could immediately tell something was very wrong. He was holding an ice pack up to his face and looked deranged overall.

"Jerry? What the hell happened to you?"

"Oh, hey. Yeah. This." he pointed at his face. "That's a long story."

"Let me see!" I demanded. You see, Jerry was, most definitely, my bff - my very best, very gay friend. And he had a talent for getting into trouble, sadly.

He slowly lowered the ice pack and I gasped. His right eye was swollen shut, and his face was covered in bruises.

"How..."

"Well, there was this guy. He was kinda hot, and totally my type, but, you know, straight as an arrow. At least *now* I know that." Even despite his bruises, Jerry raised his eyebrows in the cutest way possible - one of the traits I admired about them.

Yes, I should mention, I kiiiind of had a tiny little crush on Jerry. Or perhaps a gigantic one. You always want the ones you can't have, right? In my case, I was a woman - which was enough to disqualify myself rather finally.

"...and? Did he hit you?" I asked, even though I already suspected the answer.

"Yeah. I was just talking to him, trying to subtly find out his orientation. You know how it goes. Apparently, I wasn't too subtle about it, though, and he kind of escalated all over my face. It's no big deal, now I know."

Jerry smiled, but I could clearly see that it caused him pain to do so. It nearly broke my heart.

"It is a big deal." I answered. "That's horrible. You are worth so much more than this. Where did it happen? Did you call the police?"

"It was in the gym. Keith - that's the guy - works there, so, I guess, I need a new gym." Jerry joked. "And no, I didn't call the police, it's just... it's alright, okay Mathilda?"

I was not convinced but decided to let it go. Jerry was just a so sweet and innocent guy, he wouldn't even cause someone trouble if that someone punched in his face. I, on the other hand, was fuming. That was not a way to treat my bff! I would have really liked to kick that Keith's ass right now.

I chatted a bit more with Jerry before he had to go and promised him to come over that evening.

To be quite honest, I didn't plan to do anything, but when I was walking to Jerry's apartment in the afternoon, I passed his gym. I didn't even know it was on the way, because I honestly never paid attention to it much. But now that I saw it on the way, I couldn't help it. I would go in there and just tell the manager that one of their employees was a homophobic asshole. Just a little push in the right direction.

I entered the gym. It looked quite standard, but I couldn't see any manager or anyone else to talk to, for that matter, so I just went in there. It was quite empty, which was not surprising at this time of the day. There was, however, a young, muscular man doing push-ups. It was quite disgusting, actually, with all the sweat dripping down his body and a musky, penetrant smell was filling the room.

He stood up and greeted me.

"Hi, there. You're not a member, are you?"

"I'm not." I said. I felt like adding a "sorry" or something but decided against it. Instead, I clutched my handbag tighter.

"So, what can I do for you, ma'am?" He had that smug grin of an urge driven man who seemed to undress me with his gaze. I shuddered in disgust, but still, I straightened my back.

"Well, actually, I'm here to make a complaint."

"A complaint? About what?"

"Your staff."

"Oh? Do you have an issue with someone working here?"

"Well, yes. I just learned that one of your trainers, Keith was the name, I think, assaulted a customer. That is a terrible way to treat people, and I will not stand for it."

The guy laughed and flashed me a superior grin while he nonchalantly readjusted his groin. Free balling of course. Ugh. Can you spell 'toxic masculinity'?

"Look, honey. Whoever told you that, they lied to you. Keith would never hit a girl, especially not a pretty one."

I felt my face reddening from anger.

"First off, I'm not your honey, and secondly, it wasn't a girl but a guy."

The guy raised his eyebrows. "Really? A guy, huh?"

"Yes. He is my very good friend, and it's not funny at all."

"Hmm. Yeah, I think I remember the guy, some fruity fag who needed to be told a lesson."

Then it dawned on me. The disgusting guy in front of me was the man that had hurt Jerry.

"You're the one who did it! How dare you!" I exclaimed and tried to slap his face.

Before I could land a hit, though, he grabbed my wrist with an iron grip and grinned like a predator.

"Ah, ah. I wouldn't try that, if I were you. Would be a shame, if something were to happen to your pretty face, too."

I withdrew my hand and trembled from disgust.

"Ugh. You're just such a disgusting... jock."

In hindsight, I had no idea what happened, but perhaps some benevolent spirit or sprite was listening. In any case, Keith all of a sudden got a really strange expression on his face and looked really pale for a moment. And then... he suddenly looked even paler, like white paper or cloth. I will never be able to forget the expression of surprise on his face, as his body kind of... collapsed in on himself. His muscular torso diminished, and his arms and legs twisted and fused into thin rubber strips. But his face... His face contorted into a white fabric pouch that was completely devoid of any features within seconds. It had only taken a few moments, but Keith had disappeared.

I looked around first, but nobody else was in the gym right now. I carefully stepped closer and inspected what was left of Keith. Inside his black, damp gym shorts that was lying on the ground, I could see a pair of men's underwear, I believe it was called a jockstrap: A large fabric pouch held by rubber bands - designed to just cover the genitals, although, judging by the size of the pouch, rather large genitals. Now, as Keith had demonstrated quite clearly just a few moments ago, he had certainly not be wearing any underwear - and I had seen what had happened to his face.

With pointed fingers, careful not to touch the damp gym shorts and almost gagging from the strong smell, I picked up the piece of underwear. I had almost thrown it away again, when I noticed that it, too, was covered in sweat and stink. However, the piece of underwear that had once been a man held a strange fascination to me. I lifted it up to my face, to have a closer look, but didn't consider the consequences. When I breathed in, my nose was filled with the overwhelmingly strong and manly smell of sweaty, unwashed genitals, and it triggered something inside of me. All of a sudden, I felt tingly all over and groaned. My body felt weird all of a sudden. It was like that disgusting smell was all around me, enveloping me, pushing me to... change, somehow.

In horror, I felt my feet swelling up in my shoes. It wasn't painful, but it felt like I had been wearing boots that were way too small. The pressure was quickly getting unbearable and painful until my canvas shoes and thin socks couldn't take it anymore. First on the left and then, shortly after, on the right side, the toes of massive feet burst out from the footwear. The pressure subsided, and it felt fine again.

The changes didn't stop, though. Now that my feet had broken free from their restraints, my legs were the next to follow. A ripping sound heralded the death of my tights, as my legs gained mass and muscles. It looked almost comically how the threads of my tights were ripped apart, strand for strand. At the same time, I watched, as my hands grew larger. Gone were my delicate fingers, replaced by thick sausage-like appendages. Those new finger weren't carefully manicured but instead, I was now sporting short, ugly nails that would have been fitting for a lumberjack, rather than a girl.

While my legs were still growing, and I was getting visibly taller, my arms were next to follow. My blouse didn't even stand a chance as the arms did not only grew longer but most importantly, stronger. My biceps swelled like I visited the gym every day and, to my horror, I saw a tattoo forming on my right arm that reminded me a lot of the one Keith had had. I didn't have much time to think about it, though, as a new force practically ripped my blouse apart: My torso was pushing outward in all directions. My shoulders widened considerably, and my bra snapped from the strain. At first, I thought my boobs were growing, but it was quite the opposite. They were receding into my body, being replaced by even more massive and decidedly male pecs. Below them, a ripple went through my stomach, leaving behind the cobblestone road of abs.

The changes had met up at my midsection now and I was afraid of what was going to happen next. Sure enough, my skin-tight summer trousers bulged forward as something pressed against them from the inside.

"No..." I groaned, with a lower voice than I was used to, and tried to push whatever was appearing back into my midsection, but it was no use. With another ripping sound, a penis emerged from between my legs, quickly followed by a pair of testicles that pushed the ruined trousers down and settled in between my tree trunk-like thighs.

My head started swimming. That was wrong, that was so wrong. But the changes just went on. An Adam's apple formed in my throat, further lowering my voice, and my face reformed. It became squarer, and my jawbones became more pronounced. At the same time, my beautiful long hair receded into a short masculine cut. However, as hair disappeared on top of my head, it grew elsewhere. Or, should I say everywhere. Disgusting, wiry body hair grew in on my arms and legs and even on top of my enormous feet and the back of my hands. My chest was coated by a layer of short and coarse hair, and a treasure trail led down my midsection, where it disappeared into a thick pubic bush.

Speaking of bushes, two more formed in the large area of my armpits. Ugh. I was hairy like a fucking monkey. The only well-groomed bit of body hair was on my face, in the short beard that I could see in the gym mirror.

I could hardly believe my eyes. Staring back at me from the reflection was no one else but Keith. *I* was a splitting image of Keith now, only naked aside from the tatters of my clothes. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a low grunt.

Okay, Mathilda, no reason for panic, I told myself. I would just... Go see a doctor. Yes. There had to be an explanation. This could be treated.

I took a step towards the exit and stumbled over the remains of my coughing. Oh, right, I was still naked.

The only piece of clothing was Keith's gym shorts. Well, his gym shorts and Keith himself, who was a piece of underwear now. I looked between the shorts and the underwear. On the one hand, I really didn't want to wear what had just been Keith, but on the other hand... I certainly wasn't going without any underwear. Everyone would be able to see the outline of my current genitals. Yuck.

So, lacking other options, I pulled on the white piece of underwear. It was, unsurprisingly, very sweaty, and it clung to my junk. I grimaced, but it was better than the alternative. My ass was still largely uncovered, but that was not as bad as the front side. I had to admit that my new equipment filled out the pouch pretty well.

I quickly shook my head and pulled on the gym shorts as well. It felt weird not to cover my chest, but that was probably acceptable in my current state.

Perhaps I could ask Jerry if I could borrow some men's clothing from him.

Oh my, Jerry. He was probably waiting for me. I grabbed my handbag and fled the gym.

Walking felt weird. Of course, regardless of my looks, I was still a woman, so I took small steps and refused to spread my legs too much while walking. It was very awkward. The sun was shining down and although it wasn't all *that* hot, I found myself starting to sweat. How disgusting was that? It was like those stupid mountains of muscle were producing so much heat that my skin was soon glistening with sweat and my armpits started to smell. I tested it by lifting an arm and taking a whiff. Ugh. I needed a shower, badly. I probably would be able to use Jerry's.

Jerry... I saw his face right in front of me in my mind. The cute smile, the adorable brown eyes, the cute little dimples on his cheeks when he grinned.

A strange feeling came over me from my groin area. What was going on down there? When I looked down, the ample bulge of my cock had become even bigger, probably tenting out the pouch that had been Keith's face. I groaned. Men were so primitive. All it took was one sexy thought and bam, erection.

Still, I couldn't deny that it felt pretty good. I checked it anyone on the street was looking before I felt the outline of the cock through the layers of clothing with my big hand. The touch made me moan, and I felt my member throb.

That's when I experienced the weirdest feeling. As the sweat from my groin mixed with the fluids seeping out of the cock head and were absorbed by the jockstrap, all of a sudden, I felt the presence of Keith - the real Keith. It was like a strong mental attack, to get his body back, but I fought back. It was not *his* body, it was mine, even though it may have looked like Keith right now.

It was the strangest experience. I could practically *feel* his thoughts and emotions. The humiliation from being wrapped around, well, *my* cock and balls, I could even taste and smell an echo of what he was tasting and smelling, including the weird taste of precum that had mixed into the face-pouch recently.

It wasn't easy, but I repelled Keith's mind and kind of stuffed it back into the underwear. When I continued my walk, I didn't even notice that I know walked like a man: With long, powerful strides and enough room for my balls.

Luckily, my cock had calmed down a bit by now, and I ran the rest of the way, just to make sure. I was glistening with more sweat when I finally arrived at Jerry's apartment and rang the bell. Ugh. That musk was so bad, I just hoped I could hop under the shower right away.

However, when Jerry opened the door, we were both stunned for a moment. I because Jerry looked even better in reality than when I imagined him. Foreign hormones flooded my system, coming from my balls and I just stood there for a moment. Of course, I had a crush on Jerry before, but right now, in this moment, I realized for the first time that now, Jerry wasn't quite as unreachable as before.

Jerry, on the other hand, backed away, an expression of fear on his face.

"Keith, what... Is this some kind of joke?"

I was taken aback by his reaction.

"No! It's not... It's me, Mathilda!"

"Who?"

"Mathilda, your best friend."

Jerry stared at me, confusion on his face.

"What are you talking about Keith? Wasn't it enough for you to bash my face in? Do you want to humiliate me now?"

"No, please. Listen, Jerry, you're my friend, and I would never hurt you."

He scoffed. "Oh really? My black eye says otherwise."

I could feel myself getting upset from all the testosterone and took a deep breath.

"I can explain. Please, Jerry, hear me out."

He looked at me skeptically.

"Fine. I'll listen."

With that, he let me into his apartment.

"Okay, first of all, can I take off these gym shorts? They are really really disgusting and sweaty, and they are clinging to my legs. Yuck!"

"Uh, oookay." Jerry looked even more confused but allowed it.

Gladly, I got rid of the stinking shorts and threw them at the ground, far away from me. Jerry frowned but was apparently more captured by my now only jockstrap-clad body that I sat down on his couch. I admit I wanted to get rid of the jockstrap, too, but then I would have been completely naked in my friend's living room.

The thought was oddly exciting, and I felt my cock raise in reaction.

I just hoped that Jerry wouldn't notice my state of arousal, even though there wasn't much fabric left to hide it, but I quickly spoke.

"So, Jerry, it's really me. Remember the time when we watched Star Trek: Voyager and had a pillow fight, and you beat me easily, even though I am taller and stronger?"

"How would you know about that, Keith?" Jerry crossed his arms. He had obviously noticed my midsection problem, which was throbbing now, leading to another wet spot on the piece of underwear.

"I'm telling you, I am Ma..."

Suddenly, I grabbed my head. There it was again. Keith had reacted to my arousal and was fighting for control of *my* body again. It was weaker this time, though, and although it took me a few moments, I pushed him back between my legs, where he belonged.

Finally, I spread my legs, man-spreading without even thinking about it and giving the whole world in general and Jerry in particular a good view of my massive groin. A smirk formed on my face. Having such a big cock was something to be proud of.

"...Mathilda." I finished my sentence, although I found the name rather unfitting for a stud like me. "I just kind of... transformed into Keith's body, but it's still the same old man as always. Woman, I mean."

"Uh... what?"

I smiled and stood up, slowly, so he could see all the muscles I had gained. I was taller, too, taller than Jerry even.

"But tell me, do you like what you see?" My cock was throbbing like mad now. God, I needed to have this man!

"Uuuh... uhm... yes? Yes."

I chuckled. "Well, Jerry. I don't know how to get back to my original body yet, but do you want to... touch this one?" I gently took his hand and placed it on my chest.

Jerry didn't react at first, but then he started caressing my chest. It felt great, and he moaned, too.

Another small spurt of precum spilled into my underwear and again, Keith acted up. It was even weaker this time, and I had no trouble staying in control. I did notice something else though. Apparently, Keith was enjoying this a lot, way more than a straight man should. He was almost addicted to my cock fluids by now, and he mentally lapped at my organ submissively. And he exhibited a longing for Jerry that appeared to be too deep-rooted to have developed recently. Well, good for him, because as my jockstrap, he would have a front row seat in what happened next.

"Mathilda, is it really... okay?" Jerry asked, barely being able to restrain himself.

"Yes Jerry." I said while looking into his eyes. "It's more than okay. It's perfect. And it's Matthew from now on, okay?"

I took a deep breath, breathing in my wonderful musky smell, and I watched Jerry do the same. And when I kissed him, I couldn't wait to tear his clothes off and plow his cute little ass with my mighty cock while my lucky jockstrap was watching.

[the-tfstation]

Bullied

With a name like Willie, people would’ve thought that he was some big burly man, but sadly Willie’s genes kept him small and lean. He’d done everything he could have to bulk up, he worked out, tried to eat all the protein he could. Countless hours were spent trying different diets, supplements, anything to help him finally have a body to match his name.

The only reason he’d never given up these endeavors to make himself the man he thought he should be was his neighbor Jason and his three friends. They spent their free time making Willie’s life a complete hell. When he was running late for work, they would hold onto doorknob to make it so he couldn’t escape his apartment, he couldn’t tell you how many snowballs he’d taken to the back of the head and this was just the tame stuff.

They drove him to his last hope, an app. This app however had the ability to transform anyone into anything, problem was it was costly to get the full version and the free version didn’t have much. The options were limited to; stereotypes, animals, and inanimate. The developers however, had added a new option. You could choose random, meaning you could end up as anything. As he scrolled through the list of stereotypes, he knew that none of them were going to help him become what he needed. For a moment he debated becoming an animal to scare them away, but if he got paws there would be no chance of him ever turning back as he’d never be able to touch the restore button.

The only choice was to hope for the best and go with random. His heart raced as he placed all his trust in the app. “Please, I can’t pay for the full version, but I’m hoping this Chronovac app can help. Come on random, you’re my last hope. I need to become more manly so that way I stop getting bullied. What do you have for me?” The app listened to its host; taking pity on him. Even though it was set for random, it genuinely wanted to help Willie out.

Heat spread through Willie’s body as he closed his eyes. The timer was counting down. The app thought for a moment and knew what it could do for Willie. It started with his muscles. Each one would grow exponentially; he needed more mass. He could feel it, his muscles expanding, his skin growing to keep up. Muscle spread throughout his body, bulking him up. His tight sweats were starting to strain as the elastic could barely keep up with his growing size. His waist was ticking up quicker, size 30 to 34 then a 38, it stopped at 40. The drawstring of the sweats gone as it’d pulled inside the two holes unable to expand far enough. His slightly built chest was getting bigger, and bigger some more. His chest slightly drooped, but there was a ton of muscle still lying underneath that small amount of fat.

The arms were next as his shoulders exploded; his neck was filling in getting thicker. His biceps doubled in size and his forearms were massive like tree trunks. His sweats were so tight he tried to pull them off, they slowly inched down as he got to watch his thighs pulse and expand with new muscle. Not being fast enough he was unable to save his underwear as the fabric ripped exposing his newly enlarged rod. Willie was all smiles as he went to the bathroom to watch, his massive hands wrapped around his member as he gave into his new form.

His phone was whirring on the counter right next to him, the app nowhere finished with him yet. A thin layer of black hairs started to poke out from his chest and around his stomach, then they doubled, and doubled again giving him a thick set of hair. A forest of hair grew around his rod and eggs. Breathless and happy he enjoyed every moment as the changes made him grow. He was no longer going to be average, his 5’8” shot him up to a 6’2”. His feet grew to match to keep him stable, a good size 12. The last stage was his baby face. His boyish looks hardened, fat circled in around his cheeks as all the workouts vanished. His styled hair grew shorter leaving him with a buzz cut. His perfect skin aged a little as if he’d spent years out in the sun. The last part was a coating of thick wiry hairs that filled in along his jaw, chin and above his upper lip.

He was breathless staring at himself, his cock ready to go. The app dinged that it was done. The phone was still hot to the touch from all the processing, but he read the screen figuring out his new stats. He was older by a few more years, no more early 20’s he was now nearing the end of them at 29. His sexual preference had changed, he considered himself straight, but now he’d moved to gay. Maybe it was the apps change to reality or maybe he just truly didn’t care, he was just grateful it’d taken pity on him instead of making him a sandwich.

“Aww yeah! This is more like it, taller, stronger, harrier,” he said rubbing his chest. “Those guys won’t know what hit them, maybe I can trick them into downloading it, I could use some new clothes.” As if on cue he heard their boisterous hollering outside. They’d just gotten home. He ran to the balcony still naked and took a picture of them. Immediately the phone brought up their stats. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

As Jason and his crew reached the top of the stairs, they noticed the door to their pathetic neighbor wide open. “Hey guys, think we should go fuck up his place?” Two of his guys nodded, one of them shook his head no. “Aww who asked you,” he said leading them all into Willie’s apartment. As they stood in the living room looking around the door behind them slowly closed with Willie’s bigger body blocking it.

Two of the guys didn’t even get a chance to speak as they started to shrink, their tongues coming out of their mouth as they fell to the floor as a pair of work boots. The thud sound they made, caused Jason and the guy who said they shouldn’t mess with Willie turn around. There was a sinister smile on the hairy half naked man’s face as he pressed a button on his phone. The guy next to Jason moaned and started to fall back until nothing but a shirt fell to the ground next to the boots.

“What the fuck?!” Jason yelled jumping away from his former friends. “What did you do to them?”

“The same thing I’m going to do to you,” Willie said in his husky voice. A tingle shot through Jason. He tried to run away, but every step he made became sloppy and uncoordinated. His limbs were shrinking, a red and black plaid pattern was making its way across his face. He tried to scream, but his throat was so dry he only let out a squeak as he stumbled into Willie’s open hand. Willie held up his new boxers, a big grin on his face.

He thought about wearing Jason right there to break him in, but instead opted to humiliate him. Collecting Jason’s friends, he sat down on the couch and picked up one of the boots giving it a sniff to make himself hard. Jason screamed as his cotton skin wrapped around Jason’s cock the pre already leaking onto him. Jason’s screams and his friends worries slowly diminished until their purposes were rewritten. The app chimed when the transformation was complete, Jason and his friends happy to serve Willie as his clothes.