Interests

sneakers, boots, jockstraps, leathers, manly musks, bikers.

[soldierboyinbarrack]

-Damn, you reek of man-sweat

[loggerbootboy84]

Fuck Yeah !!

[214ecinogard]

[muscularguns]

2 alphas brothers who can ruined your life

[shock-the-monkey-82]

Dave Murad, link here: Instagram

[214ecinogard]

[rubberizer4]

Well a man in a lab coat and a spandex Spider-Man bound to a chair… what could go wrong? 😈

This powerful hero sits restrained in the high-tech chair while the scientist prepares the syringe. One injection and everything is about to change. The rubber Venom symbiote is ready to take over and claim this perfect body for itself.

Watch the transformation unfold… 💦🖤

For more content every three hours join us for free on Telegram: https://t.me/rubberizer

To support our work and get more exclusive content: https://www.fanvue.com/rubberizer92

[spencer-kicks]

Basic colorway, but nothing basic about these Osiris.

[beneathhisskin]

[multiplicationdivision]

Mixin’ and Splittin’

Joe had really over binged on Friday.

A burger, fries, milkshake. An entire amateur men’s league basketball team. 4 bottles of Gatorade and 11 energy bars. The coach who’d watched him assimilate his team and then devour all their snacks.

He’d half-known it was too much at the time, packing all those men into his body. Rewinding their DNA into coils around his own as he compacted all their knowledge and skills into neat boxes for unpacking and reorganizing into his mind.

He hadn’t even really known why he did it honestly. He’d already been a 10 upon his conception, back when his frat had been stuck on deciding a new president. 4 of those brothers had, the help of the college occult club, faceted themselves into each other. A simple process at the time, given the four beer crushing, class failing jocks had practically been the same man already.

It had taken Joe two years of excruciating tedious self-exploration before he’d been confident enough to have another go at it. Fusion was a tricky thing, especially if one wanted to essentially be the same guy in the end. Joe was selective, picking guys who already were him in a way, with similar lives and goals. Largely gym jocks, who could use a little more intelligence and game that could be gotten by braiding their brain stem’s with Joe’s.

At most 1 man a month, largely though only about 6 a year. A reasoinable pace, with enough time in between each man to properly digest their life story and incorporate their mass.

He’d never met a group of guys so much like him though. He had been jogging through downtown and the cocphany of jeering low voices and bodies against bodies had drawn him to their epicenter. A practical army of near identical men, only differentiated by hair color, slight skin tone differences and sneakers. Their personalities and movements were synchronous though, insulting each other the same way and laughing and shoving each other around.

One of them had seen Joe and like recognized like and upon a quick fist bump and introduction he had been in motion with them. Joe had a whole neatly arranged set of memories in his head to be perfect at the sport, much to the team’s delight and enthusiasm.

“You should play with us all the time bro” One of them had said, offering a water. Joe hadn’t even broken a sweat at the time, until that comment.

“Yeah wish I could be a man like you” Another had said, enviously taking Joe in.

Joe’s mind raced and it was like instinct took him over.

When they began their next practice match, he’d been happy the crew was so similar that they hadn’t even noticed their number dropping in between Joe tackling or shoving them into himself. His first becoming had taken ages of pushing and molding, but now he could combine with others in seconds. One second they were there and the next there was a pile of clothes, quickly kicked to the side of the court.

The coach had noticed Joe, learned when the coach became him, but the man had enough wisdom to recognize a good deal when he saw it. To be incorporated into a gestalt of young men meant a second lot in life, a ungodly better one at that given how Joe looked. Not that the coach hadn’t been a looker, Joe giving the man a pass despite how different the guy was to him. He was a handsome daddy and bloated with as much as Joe had taken, 14 guys in all, he’d said fuck it, before pushing the old guy in as well.

Joe had really thought he’d gotten away with it scott free too. Saturday had been enjoyable even, dozing off to football re-runs as he reshuffled his messy memories in record time. That older coach wisdom working overtime to negotiate nerurons into a working healthy gestalt of Joe. Joe wasn’t really an individual like that, even if functionally he was one person. Joe was more akin to a democracy really, all the individual parts of him deciding on which action he’d take, trading their individual experiances to make up his preferences. That night he’d gone out and bought a whole new closet for himself, learning in the moment that Kenny made him want his clothes tighter and Jack made him a total sneaker nut. Joe was glad he’d lucked out and his now much greater committee of selves were chill exploring himself. They’d all jerked off and even doing it together, it was essentially the same. Although this time with a whole more experience to draw from.

Still he’d felt stuffed that day though. Minds and souls were one thing to incorporate, as insubstantial as they were. But physical muscle and bone, that was something different. Conservation of mass reared its head despite magical assimilation trying to overpower it. Joe supposed it always did, but before his body had had the time to remove the excess and keep going as usual.

Maybe had he kept his libedo in line for at least a week it would’ve passed and he’d burp up all the excess carbon or be stuck throwing up 14 men’s worth of excess mass. This release was different though, as they all had. Too many nerves in his new dick, big as it was. It was like his brain melted.

And then he was falling apart.

The first time was like he exploded. He’d cum what felt like buckets and suddenly there was two warm bodies against him. Big bodies, panting.

His eyes staring down at him, pupils burning with all the same neurons that his did. His cock poking into his own ass, wet and leaking.

“Holy fuck” one of them said, not nearly freached out enough to stop from trying to touch himself. Each still so tense and over stuffed.

“Are you both still me” He’d said, worried he’d lost some voting members of his gestalt. Just a brief examination of his selves though showed all remained present. All curious and not enough afraid, resulting in Joe’s embracing off his other selves.

“I’m still the Joe I was a couple seconds ago” One said, moving to slid his body to face his doubles, below himself.

“Same” the other said.

“Fuck we’re hot” Joe said, despite the straight male majority of his being. They could all acknowledge the vanity and narcissism that made Joe such a functional being. Joe was bound to be somewhat gay as a gestalt, given he was a being made to appreciate himself.

He most certainly appreciated the selves in front of him, seeing his many selves duplicated in their eyes. He wanted to devour them, line up twin Kenny brains next to each other or see if Clark’s rivalry with his twin brother would only increase with extra copies in the race.

Joe cruched their lips together and was glad to experience his talent in third person. His mouth on his cock, the friction of his tongue down its length. Arms pulling and forcefully wrenching him into the place he wanted to be, straddled on their King bed.

It was well into the early morning until their work resulted in another Joe, their bottom pushing slowly into two exhausted selves on their sweat soaked sheets. The other Joes had kissed their tired selves in jealousy, wishing they too could release the tension just a bit more.

He passed out in quadruplet, four hot bodies steaming in the cold air.

Morning had made each thankful for their spending spree the previous day, given Jack’s sneaker obsession would hopefully keep them in the clear of running out of shoes. They’d be rationing the rest of their closet, at least until their Amazon order of bulk order shorts and shirts arrived.

Showering had left one Joe happily slowly split once more, coming out after the long lonmg shower in twain with happy smiles. The other Joes had showered prior, just slightly annoyed they’d have to fry more eggs for their new fifth’s breakfast, although mostly just happy for the extra company.

“This feel right, right?” One of them said, clad in old Joe’s running shoes, long stretched out from Fridays absorbing fest. Splitting didn’t seem to take away any superficial mass it seemed and thus they remained the supermen Saturday had shaped them into.

“Can’t say I’m mad about it” another said, cuddling the one of them frying bacon to go with the fifty odd eggs piled next to qa stack of toast.

“Feels less lonely” their chef said, smiling to himself as he felt his own arms around him. He’d realized it filled something missing in his core.

Joe was a team of more than 30 men in himself, working towards the same goal. Fufillment, sex and success, simple as that. It was a goal that Joe had been working toward to his own legion of satisfaction, but he hadn’t realized the self-sabotage of a project like himself.

Women were fine, men as well. Joe could find companionship easily, hell he was a magnet for it. He had all the combined charisma and jokes and sex appeal that made the world fall to his knees. He could have it all, anyone, anytime. They wouldn’t understand him though.

They all wanted to know Joe, but Joe wasn’t a single guy with his single ambitions. He was many life stories, each with a part to say. It wasn’t a topic that Joe could ever truly broach, and he’d tried. Woman found him self-centered and his few relationships with men lasted for weeks before they inevitably joined him.

His duplicates though. His brothers really. They didn’t need to be made to understand. They knew it all. That Charlie’s jokes were typically the ones that Joe decided upon, or that Rory made him run everyday. They even knew the parts of him that liked to fade into the background, the guys like Kyles and Josh who were happy to ride along as Zach and Tony powered Joe’s career and Riley and Cody filled out Joe’s hobbies. He wouldn’t need to make up some bullshit to disguise his massive life history or justify his existence.

“Hope we actually get fourteen of us” One of the Joe’s split from a shower said, shoving his split mate into his lap to mess up his hair. They were practically built to be in a crowd, how had Joe not seen that before.

It felt obvious now.

“Think we can still fuse together?” another said and it was something they’d all been thinking. So they’d never have to diverge, always able to reconverge and split back into pieces. So they could all share whatever guy would next join their fold.

“Definitely” Another said, and that was the thing with their magic. Intention was everything, even if Joe only ever intended things to be Joe.

“Later” a sensible version of them said, speaking out what their new Coach part warned. Coach already proving to be a useful voice to the impulsivity of their whole.

“Good to wait out this whole mitosis thing” he’d said, one of him. It came out in two voices anyways, given he was the Joe who hadn’t split his first time yet. His vision beginning to double as he felt every mind in him double. His hair getting thicker as the strands parted and he face split in two.

Watched his other self-smile in pride as his point of view divided.

“Seems like it goes slower each time” He said to himself.

“You don’t like spending time with me?” he laughed, half wishing he could still have his twin next to him like this.

“Fuck off Joe” he knocked his own head, much to his own chagrin.

He could already feel the division spready past their necks and double their chests. Even still a tension lay in his cells. More mass waiting for a bit to begin churning out another of him.

He kissed himself and was so excited.

[guysintoboots]

Rocky Duty Boots from a Cop

[jakelandryshorts]

Father's Day Gym

Alan had been fed up with the laziness of his son. He’d never expected himself to get to such a point but everyday after coming home from work and watching the younger man sit on his ass watching football or whatever, instead of practicing while Alan went out to work at some dead-end job continued to add up.

Of course, the final straw was the complete and total forgetting of Father’s Day. There’s only so many birthdays or Christmases that Dave could forget before Alan had enough. It’s not even like Father’s day was all that special to the man. Usually just grilling some burgers and getting some pun of a card was all he wanted.

But this was the last straw. After seeing Dave sitting around and not even saying, ‘Happy Father’s Day’ to him, he took matters into his own hands. There was a card he’d bought, almost as a bit of a gaff, that was supposed to be enchanted. Instead of receiving the card Alan gave it to his son.

Not that Dave cared. He tossed it in the trash without a second thought. Alan smirked. It didn’t need to be accepted, only given. With that the present was already starting to take hold. With each step down the hallway, Alan could feel the smallest bit of his body starting to change.

Without thinking he was already walking taller with stronger steps. Each stride seemed to have added another week to his lifespan. Hair started to grow back on the top of his head. He could feel his atrophying muscles building up again without any effort at all. His clothes felt tighter across his shoulders and chest and his belt looser around his waist.

Without even thinking Alan entered into what he thought was his son’s room. Yet, when he looked at the Wolves mascot he had a certain kinship with it. But when he saw that the trophies had his name on it, Alan knew full well that the spell had worked.

Alan took a seat on what was soon to be his bed. The changes were happening whether Dave wanted them too or not. A sly smirk covered his face as he laid down and wallowed in the bed almost marking it.

Still his clothes continued to feel tighter. His chest was really starting to push against the buttons of his shirt. His shoulders continued to grow wider and waist thinner. Yet, his pants felt tighter as thick muscular quads started to fill them.

He sat back up wiggling his toes as his shoes were completely filled with his feet. “Only a matter of time,” he mused to himself as he grabbed the football and tossed it gingerly into the air.

Meanwhile in the other room, Dave started to feel something was off. His whole body started to feel a strange bloat to it. He tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t go away. Neither farting nor burping did anything to release whatever strange bloat was plaguing him.

Dave stood up and tried to stretch, hoping that might make some kind of change. Yet, the first thing he noticed was his shirt. It was riding up over a belly. “What the hell?!” he cursed staring down at the forming stomach. What had been lean cut abs was now starting to become a belly. He let out a grunt as it continued to get even bigger.

“What the hell’s going on?!” he grimaced at the strange belly forming on him. Even worse the college sleeveless shirt was starting to feel tight against his chest. And his shoes were starting to feel even tighter. His thoughts raced back to the card. It didn’t make sense but it was the only thing that he could go off of.

Panic raced through Dave as weight continued to pile onto his once lithe body. His muscles almost seemed to have exploded with an unknown force adding power and strength that the lean ones would give. However, with that size also seemed to come age.

His shaggy blond hair was starting to fall out while thick coarser hair started to cover his arms, legs and chest. He scratched it absentmindedly. “This can’t be real…” he declared but when he saw his face in the mirror and he looked to be well into his thirties, that didn’t matter anymore.

Dave ran down the hallway as fast as he could. His thick burly body shook the house with each step. The hulking frame took up nearly the entire space. He only paused for a second seeing a picture and watching as Alan and him had swapped spots. “ALAN!” he shouted loudly through the house.

Alan chuckled. Hearing Dave’s voice echo through the house only spurred his excitement. He knew the changes were still happening. He could feel his strength growing more and more. Each muscle developed into something thicker and stronger than he had ever had. It was like decades of work were all piling into him at once as his body also lost those decades in age.

The once portly older man was now growing more spry and filled with a excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time. His body moved easily and effortlessly. His muscles were strong and full. His face young and filled with a handsomeness he’d never known.

Alan ripped off the rest of his clothes, discarding the relic that he had been. They weren’t who he was anymore.

Alan went over to the mirror again examining the new powerhouse of a man he’d become. He’d stolen so much of his son’s youth and strength, that he almost felt bad. Yet, seeing those powerful muscles staring back at him washed any of those feelings away. A confidence burgeoned within him as he went through what had been his son’s closet to find something to wear. Most of it was a little tight, but he could figure something.

Not even the loud knocking on his bedroom door made him nervous.

On the other side was Dave. The lean handsome man had turned into an absolute beast. Muscular bulk covered every inch of the other an. However, it also gave him two more decades of experience. Alan wasn’t sure what the ‘curse’ really was, but seeing how Dave had only grown bigger and stronger than even Alan was, made him grin.

Even as Dave stared him down with as much anger and menace that the man could muster, it didn’t phase Alan the slightest bit. He gave his ‘dad’ a pat on the shoulder and started walking through the house. Dave’s anger turned to confusion. His hulking size would have made the biggest of men panic, yet, Alan walked past him like it was nothing.

Dave continued to follow Alan. His heavy footsteps were softening. Even with all that bulk he was quickly learning how to control his excess weight. He watched as Alan turned into the garage and was absolutely stunned by what he say.

“Happy Father’s Day,” Alan said. “It took a while and I’m glad you didn’t come in and spoil it.” He smiled as he showed off the fully stocked gym in their garage. It didn’t make sense, yet the magic continued to push and pull making everything feel as though it made sense. Somehow Alan had been sneaking in weights and machines under Dave’s nose to surprise him with a fully stocked gym.

“Damn it boy,” Dave growled with a menacing tone. “I told you not to do anything this stupid.”

“Oh c’mon pops,” Alan grinned mischievously. The word fell out of him so naturally that he couldn’t help but add a chuckle. “I knew you wanted to take things to the next level and those paid gyms can’t handle your strength.”

“Whatever,” Dave grumbled as he entered into the workout space. He grabbed Alan into a headlock, forcing the other man into his pit and roughed up his hair. “All I wanted was some steak and you’d gone and given me all this shit.” He let go and then extended his hand. “Good on ya boy.” He grinned shaking his sons hand.

Alan smirked. The new reality was setting in. Dave didn’t seem to remember the old one. Or if he did, that past lazy son he was was now gone. Alan took his father’s hand and shook it. “Ready to test some of this out?” he offered.

“HELL YEAH!” Dave shouted. Before they knew it the two were working out with Dave pushing Alan to his absolute limit.

Tried something a little different to see if it worked. Created using ChatGPT. Pictures AI generated, Story written by me.

More stories on my wordpress

[loggerbootedharleybiker]

[amendingreality-deactivated2025]

“Let me be a top today then”

…

“Oh yeah”

[possessmedude]

Locker Room Symbiote

[misctf]

A Haunting at the Frat Party

"Dude! It's just for one night, c'mon."

"No fucking way."

"It's tradition! You can't…"

"I said no fucking way." John's eyes narrowed.

He had just gotten back from his evening run when a few of his frat bros approached him. Jake, Chad, and Zack all looked annoyed, but John didn't care. This "tradition" was supposed to be sacred - chosen brothers opening themselves up to allow the benevolent ghosts of former frat brothers to inhabit their bodies briefly, adding extra spirit to the rager. It was supposed to be harmless fun.

"Listen guys," John began, trying to keep the frustration from his voice, "you know how I feel about all this supernatural stuff. My faith…"

"Ah, c'mon man!" Jake interjected, clapping John on the shoulder. "It's just a bit of fun. Loosen up!"

"Exactly," Chad chimed in. "Besides, you're one of the newest members. Got to pull your weight, yeah?"

John sighed heavily. He'd known there would be strings attached to joining this frat… This went against everything he believed in. And as John opened his mouth to protest further, he spotted Kev lumbering down the hallway towards them. Kev was the quintessential slob of a frat brother - unkempt hair, beer gut hanging over his waistband, a permanent sheen of sweat on his brow. He was in his final year but seemed to have no direction or ambition beyond the next keg stand.

"Yo, Kev!" Zack called out. "You ready for tonight, bro?"

"Fuck yeah, dude!" Kev slurred, taking another swig from his red solo cup, "Woah bros, like…" He looked closely at everyone, the slow gears in his brain turning, "this uh looks serious." He chuckled- deep and dumb.

John watched him with barely concealed disgust. Kev embodied everything he despised - laziness, gluttony, lack of self-control. Just looking at him made John feel unclean, like he needed another shower. He couldn't imagine ending up like that - directionless, gluttonous, throwing away his potential. That could never be him.

"John here doesn't want to participate in the ritual." Zack crossed his arms.

"What?" Kev blinked slowly, processing this new information. Then his face split into a wide, idiotic grin. "Aww, c'mon man! Don't be such a pussy!"

John recoiled slightly, wrinkling his nose in revulsion. "I'm not a pussy, I just…"

He trailed off, unsure how to explain his moral objections to someone like Kev without sounding judgmental. Not that Kev would understand anyway, being the walking embodiment of vice that he was. But John had standards- his faith, his commitment to his girlfriend, his goals…

"Aw, lighten up John!"

"Not like you have a choice." Jake added, "Unless you want out of the frat."

The threat hung heavy in the air. He couldn't risk getting kicked out, not when he'd worked so hard to get in. His jaw clenched as he weighed his options.

"…Fine." The word tasted bitter on his tongue. "I'll do it. But I don't like it."

Jake and Chad high-fived while Zack grinned triumphantly. "That's what we like to hear, bro!"

Kev let out a loud whoop and slapped John on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. "Hell yeah! Now that's more like it!"

_________

The dank basement reeked of mildew and stale beer. Eerie symbols were scrawled haphazardly across the stone walls, glowing faintly in the dim candlelight. John stood nervously with the other chosen bros - Mark, Tyler, and Ethan. An oppressive atmosphere hung thick in the air.

"So like, what exactly happens now?" Mark asked, his voice quavering slightly.

Tyler shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Same shit as every year, right? We just like, let 'em in and then…"

His words trailed off as an icy draft swept through the room, snuffing out several candles. The temperature plummeted, raising goosebumps on John's skin beneath his thin t-shirt.

"This is insane," Ethan muttered, rubbing his arms.

And then they saw them. Shadows twisted and warped in the guttering candlelight. Translucent figures began materializing - grinning specters in outdated fraternity t-shirts and board shorts. The spirits of past bros. They hovered briefly before lunging at the huddled students. Gasps echoed through the basement. John watched in abject horror as the translucent forms of the ghosts enveloped his friends. Their bodies convulsed briefly before going slack. When they opened their eyes again, they glowed with an otherworldly light.

"Holy shit, this feels amazing!" Mark exclaimed, flexing his new muscles appreciatively.

"Damn straight!" Tyler grinned wolfishly, running his hands over his toned stomach. "I forgot how good it feels to have a hot bod again."

Ethan just groaned in bliss, palming himself through his jeans. "Fuck me, I'm already horny as hell. And this kid is definitely packing."

John recoiled as the possessed bros started groping and fondling each other gleefully, laughing and catcalling. This was so much worse than he'd imagined.

"What the fuck…" John stumbled backwards, right into a ghost he hadn't noticed before. A chill went through his whole form.

"Sup, bro!" the ghost guffawed, flashing a dopey grin, "Name's Big Mikey!" John recoiled instinctively, "What's wrong, bro?" John could make out more details of this spirit- the days-old stubble, the strong odor of stale beer and cigarette smoke emanating from him, the hairy beer gut, "You look like you've seen a ghost." He guffawed as his own stupid joke.

"No no no, not this fucker," John thought desperately under his breath. "Anyone but this loser."

Of all the former frat bros, was this really the guy who'd be wearing his skin for the night? John's thoughts raced as he imaged the damage Big Mikey would do. His thoughts were cut short as Big Mikey moved towards him.

"No, wait! Stop!" John cried out, trying to push Big Mikey away.

"Whoa there, lil' bro!" Big Mikey laughed, "Ain't no use fightin' it!" He pressed closer, his ample gut pressing against John's toned abs. "Gonna feel real good, trust me!"

"Like hell it will!" John snarled, but even as he resisted, he could feel an odd tingling sensation starting to spread through his body.

Big Mikey just chuckled darkly, "C'mon Johnny boy, lemme in!"

John screamed as he felt Big Mikey's essence begin to pour into him, filling him up from the inside out. It was like being stretched to his limits, his skin prickling and burning as it struggled to contain the invading spirit.

"Oh god oh fuck, it hurts!" John wailed, doubling over. His muscles seized and spasmed as they were forced to accommodate Big Mikey's bulk.

"Aw c'mon, ya big baby!" Big Mikey's voice boomed from within, "Ya gotta relax, bro!" John could feel the ghost's presence expanding inside him, pushing outward.

"No no no, I can't take it!" John sobbed, tears streaming down his face, "You're too big! You won't fit…"

John gasped as he felt his jeans tightening painfully around his thickening thighs and ass. The seams strained as his legs and torso grew heavier, softer. A layer of flab crept over his once defined abs, blossoming into a proper beer gut.

"Holy shit, that's what I'm talkin' about! We're makin' room!" Big Mikey sang gleefully from inside John's rapidly changing body. "This is fuckin' awesome!"

"No, please, stop!" John whimpered, but his pleas sounded distant even to his own ears. John shuddered as he felt his body ballooning outward, packing on pounds at an alarming rate. His arms swelled first, biceps and triceps ballooning into soft, jiggling mounds of fat-covered muscle. The sleeves of his tight shirt ripped apart as his forearms expanded.

"Fuuuuck…" John groaned as his pecs inflated like balloons, stretching his shirt to its limit before the fabric tore away completely. Tufts of coarse hair sprouted across his broad, sloping chest.

"Hell yeah, work those pecs!" Big Mikey's voice rumbled, sending vibrations through John's body. John could only moan weakly as his nips hardened into fat nubs.

His gut continued to grow, hanging over the waistband of his straining jeans. John couldn't believe what he was seeing... what he was feeling. This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't... John's head throbbed as it too began to change shape. His chiseled jawline softened and rounded. A double chin emerged, wobbling with each labored breath.

"Guh… stop…" John slurred, his words garbled as his tongue felt thick and clumsy in his mouth.

Coarse, wiry hair erupted along his jawline and up onto his cheeks, quickly forming a patchy, unkempt beard. The facial hair matched the messy mop growing atop his head, both oily and disheveled.

"I can't… too much…" John whined pathetically, but even as he protested, he could feel his resistance crumbling. Big Mikey was taking the wheel.

And suddenly, John was a mere passenger in his own body, watching in shock as his limbs moved of their own accord. Big Mikey was in control now.

"Alrighty then, let's get this fuckin' party started!" Big Mikey bellowed, his voice now a deep, gravelly baritone. He stumbled into the main room of the frat house, drawing stares from the other bros.

"Holy shit, look at John!" Someone yelled, pointing and laughing. Indeed, the sight of the usually strait-laced John now sporting a beer gut, greasy beard, and a shit-eating grin was quite the spectacle.

Big Mikey made a beeline for the keg, grabbing a large red solo cup.

"Let's fuckin' go!" He chugged deeply, foam spilling down his newly furry chin. He burped loudly, slamming the empty cup down. "Fuck yeah, that's the stuff!" Turning to survey the room, his bleary eyes landed on Kev.

"Yo Kev, that you bro?!" Big Mikey slurred, staggering over and throwing an arm around the sloppy frat bro. "Guess you're no longer the only one who got the Big Mikey treatment, eh?" He guffawed at his own joke.

Kev blinked slowly, then broke into a dopey grin. "Fuck yeah!"

John wanted to be sick.

_________

The night blurred into a haze of debauchery as Big Mikey ran roughshod over John's senses and morals. Shot after shot was tossed back, each one stoking the fire in Big Mikey's belly. The acrid smoke of countless joints filled John's lungs, his head spinning delightfully.

But it was the blowjob that truly shocked John's fading awareness. Big Mikey dropped to his knees in front of a stunned frat bro, fumbling with his belt. "C'mon bro, let Big Mikey make you feel real good!" he slurred before engulfing the other man's cock in his sloppy mouth.

John wanted to scream, to tear himself free of this violating experience, but he was utterly powerless. And at that moment, the drugs, the alcohol, the sheer mental strain proved too much for both John and Big Mikey. Darkness closed in and as consciousness faded, he heard it- heard Big Mikey's voice echoing in his mind.

"Thanks for the ride, little bro. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!" He could feel Big Mikey leaving him, "Cuz I think you're gonna be carryin' on my legacy from now on, bro! Do me proud!"

And then... there was nothing.

_________

The next morning dawned grim and grey. The remnants of the wild Halloween bash littered the frat house - crushed cups, empty bottles, questionable stains on the carpets.

Jake rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he padded downstairs, concern etched on his face. "Hey guys, have you seen John? He's been MIA since the party ended and…" he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Chad leaned in, lowering his voice, "You think that possession shit did anything permanent? Like, to his brain?" He voiced the question all three had been silently fretting over.

Zack frowned, "Nah, it's always just temporary before, right?" Despite his reassuring tone, uncertainty crept into his eyes.

"I dunno man. Did you see him last night? I've never seen someone's body change from the possession." Chad paused, "Well, except Kev."

Jake and Zack shared a concerned glance. And when they pushed open the door to the common room, the trio stopped short, jaws dropping at the scene before them. Slumped on the couch, reeking of weed and sweat, hair disheveled, beer gut out, was… John?

Well, the man that used to be John, anyway. Gone was the chiseled physique, replaced by a firm gut and fat. A scraggly, unkempt beard covered his round face. But most shocking was the dopey grin splitting his flushed visage as he lifted a half-empty beer bottle to his lips, a smoldering blunt dangling forgotten from his fingers.

"John?"

"Brooooos. This shit's fuckin' legit." John slurred, patting his firm gut and looking up at the trio with glassy eyes, "So? Who else want's to get fuckin' lit?"

[gayghostgrimoire]

Spring Break pt 2

(AI story)

Across town, Dane knelt in his bedroom, stuffing his well-worn, musky hockey skates and high-tops into the duffel. The sneakers reeked gloriously of sweat and ice-rink rubber—his favorite scent. He smirked, already half-hard thinking about the locker-room hookups he’d chase in Miami.

Felipe materialized behind him like smoke, then leaned in close, voice rumbling with dark glee.

“Vacation time, Dane!”

Dane jerked upright—too late. Felipe rammed in through the base of the spine with a deep, wet squelch-squelch. Dane’s tank stretched obscenely across widening lats; joggers tented violently as Felipe’s heavier cock and balls slid home, skin gleaming under the pressure. Thighs ballooned, quads forced thicker still. Chest heaved, nipples hardening as broader pecs filled them out. The head came last: Felipe forcing upward with a final, sloppy schlurp, reshaping the sharper jaw into something blockier, more brutal. Eyes rolled back white, then snapped forward—meaner, filthier.

Dane’s body stood slowly. Felipe flexed, sniffed his own pits with a low growl, and adjusted the throbbing length now tenting the front of the joggers.

“Ahh!” he rumbled in Dane’s deeper register. “Maria is gonna love this smelly rod.”