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@dreamer-xxxxx
Staying Friends
"Dude, you have no idea how much I've needed this." Nick grinned as he packed away his swim shorts, "Golf, beers, beach, hot girls..." He trailed off, his mind wandering and imagining himself poolside, enjoying the sun, "I... what's so funny?"
Logan snorted, "I don't know, man." He crossed his arms, "I wouldn't say you're out of the woods yet. Talk to me when we're actually on the links."
Nick frowned, "Yeah, yeah..." His grin faltered, "But I think I'm in the clear, bro. Emma hasn't..."
His phone buzzed and Nick froze. This had to be some kind of cruel joke. Or the universe's sick sense of humor. Logan looked over, a small grin etched on his face as Nick plopped down on his bed and looked at the notification.
"Who's that?"
"You fuckin' know who." Nick muttered, his other hand brushing through his hair, "No, no, no... I can't... Fuck!" He quickly opened his phone, his heart racing as he called her, "C'mon... pick up."
"What did she say?" Logan asked. Nick didn't bother responding, "Tough break, dude..."
"Emma?" Nick was relieved when she picked up, "Emma, hey... Yeah, hi... Uh can we... Can we talk about this?"
Nick's heart was pounding in his chest. This couldn't be happening again. Not right before spring break. He had plans, things he was looking forward to.
"I just... I was wondering if maybe I could..."
His eyes widened as he watched his rough, calloused hand shift and distort before his eyes. His hard-earned callouses from the gym softening away as his hands became small and dainty.
"No Emma, seriously! I..." It wasn't too late. He still had time. The changes... they weren't too far along yet, "What if... No, I know... But Emma, I didn't..."
"Dude," Logan motioned toward him, "your hair."
Nick nearly tripped on his way to the mirror and gasped as he watched his short cut lengthen and curl before his eyes, the texture becoming soft and silky, while taking on a lighter hue.
"Fuck... No Emma, I'm listening, promise!" Nick replied quickly, his voice cracking slightly on the vowels, pitching upward in a way that sounded entirely wrong for a six-foot-two college linebacker, "I just... When I said we could still be friends, this isn't what I meant."
The break-up had been rough. More than rough. Desperate to comfort her, he'd promised, “We can still be friends.” He never realized just how far she'd take him up on that, turning him into the kind of friend who would shop with her, gossip about cute boys, fuss over clothes, and eagerly tag along whenever she needed her favorite little bestie.
"No! I like being your friend! I didn't mean... I just, not like this, hun!"
Hun? Did he really just call her hun? Before he could even attempt to take it back, a strange, dizzying rush of vertigo washed over him. When he looked over at Logan, his breath hitched. Just moments ago, they had been standing eye-to-eye; now, Nick found himself having to physically tilt his chin up just to meet Logan’s amused gaze. He was barely clearing his friend's collarbone.
"Oh shit, is that...?" Nick watched with growing dread as several of his frat bros gathered in the doorway, "Oh nice, Nico's coming back."
Logan let out a low whistle, looking down at Nick with a predatory grin. "Damn, Nicky. You're barely pushing five-six right now. I could practically pick you up with one hand."
"S-shut up!" Nick squeaked, a defensive pout forming on his lips. He pressed the phone back to his ear, "Emma, please! I'm practically disappearing in my own clothes! You have to stop this!"
He frantically yanked the oversized tee over his head and tossed it aside, baring a torso that was rapidly losing its hard muscle.
"No, Emma wait... I didn't mean...!"
His waist pinched inward sharply, forcing a gasp from his puffier lips. As his pelvis narrowed and shifted, his waistband lost its anchor; his shorts and boxers dropped instantly to the floor around his ankles, pooling at his feet.
"Emma, seriously!" Nick whined, trying to cover his rigid cock with one of his dainty hands, "The bros... we have a trip planned! What if... Maybe... we can find a different time? Please, Emma..."
He ran a hand across the hair dusting his pectorals and stomach, watching it thin beneath his fingers until it gradually vanished altogether. He dragged both palms down his torso, shuddering as the last traces disappeared, leaving his skin completely smooth and hairless.
“Wait… no, no, no,” Nick stammered. “W-what do you mean, the whole week?” His voice cracked into a panicked shriek before settling comfortably into a higher octave. “Emma, no! You can't keep me for, like... seven days! That's, like, forever!”
He glanced helplessly at Logan, then towards his arms as his biceps lost their hard definition, followed by his forearms as they slimmed down. He squeezed one arm, watching the muscle give beneath his fingers.
“I've never... I've never stayed Nico for more than a weekend!” he continued, his words tumbling out faster and taking on an increasingly breathless, expressive quality. “By day three, I won't even remember who I was! I'll forget everything! I'll forget the guys, I'll forget the house, I'll... oh my God, I'll probably forget how to play golf!”
The thick pectoral muscles that had filled out every shirt he owned were shrinking too, losing their firm, sculpted shape until his chest became flatter, softer and more slender. His shoulders followed, narrowing as the broad linebacker frame continued collapsing into a much lighter, more graceful build.
“And what am I even supposed to do for seven days? Go shopping and talk about cute boys and get my nails done?” He gave an incredulous little laugh, then immediately caught himself. “I mean... ugh, obviously I can do that, but that's, like, not the point!”
Around the bedroom, more and more fraternity brothers had crammed in, leaning against the doorframe with wide grins. The room was thick with the scent of cheap beer and body spray. They had all seen this ritual before and knew what was coming.
“Wait, seriously?" Nick's expression softened as he listened to Emma, and before long the panic in his voice had given way to reluctant consideration, "The resort has a spa and a private beach? Okay, that's actually kind of amazing. And you said there's a club at the hotel?”
Logan exchanged an amused glance with the others.
Nick continued, completely absorbed in the conversation. “Okay! Like why didn't you start with that, babe?" He giggled, "But like, I need something cute for the first night, because I'm not wearing those ugly shorts I packed. Maybe something a little tighter… something that actually shows off my ass.”
He turned sideways in front of the mirror, examining his increasingly slender silhouette with open fascination and a breathy sigh. The last traces of his muscular chest and arms melted away, leaving him lean, soft, and lithe, while his hips and backside rounded into something more noticeable and certainly more squeezable.
“And if we're going dancing every night, you're going to have to help me pick out outfits, Emma. I want something really slutty, something tight, tiny, and sparkly."
His smile grew into a wide, eager grin, his tongue darting out to wet his glossy lips.
“Because if there're hot guys walking around, I'm definitely not spending the whole week pretending I don't want them to wreck me.”
He giggled softly, a high-pitched, bubbly sound.
“Like, seriously, Emma, what if there are all these gorgeous, hung guys walking around the resort? I'm supposed to just ignore them? Absolutely not. I'm literally going to be crawling over everyone just to get a taste.”
With a sharp, breathless gasp, his cock aggressively compressed, shrinking down rapidly into a tiny, hypersensitive, leaking little nub between his newly widened, aching thighs.
"Sheesh, that's just sad." Brody snorted loudly from the back of the room, leaning against the door frame with his beer.
Nick whipped his head around, planting one delicate hand on his curvy hip, his lips curling into a bitchy sneer.
"Oh, shut it, Brody," Nick snapped, "Like, seriously? You think you're all high and mighty with your little beer can? Please. Brody, I've like sucked your cock and trust me, it isn't that impressive."
A stunned hush fell over the room for half a second before the entire chapter erupted into uproarious, howling laughter, Brody flushing bright red as the other guys clapped him on the back.
"Ooh, shots fired!" Logan hollered, stepping forward grabbing a fistful of Nick's soft, ass. "Sounds like our favorite little slut's got some mouth on him tonight. What do you say, boys? Think he's ready for a proper send-off?"
Nick shivered, a delicious, full-body tremor rippling through his delicate frame.
"Okay, wait, babe, I literally have to go right this second..." A giddy, bubbling giggle escaped his lips, completely devoid of any lingering trace of the college linebacker, "Oh, trust me, sweetie, I'll take plenty of notes," Nico purred. He flashed a utterly shameless smile toward the sea of grinning fraternity brothers surrounding him. "I'll tell you all about their yummy cocks as soon as I'm done letting every single one of these gorgeous boys utterly wreck me."
With a soft, melodic laugh, Nico ended the call, tossing the phone carelessly onto the unmade mattress behind him.
"Well?" Nico purred, as he reached out, running his smooth, hands up the front of Logan's chest to clutch at his collar. "Are you boys just going to stand there staring at me all night, or is someone going to come give their favorite little slut the proper send-off she's been begging for?"
How about a story about a homophobic frat jock who gets turned into the husband of his gay, middle aged english professor?
Jared had everything he could want. The looks, the friends, girls drooling over him, the athletic ability... the list went on. The only thing he didn't have was a good grade in his stupid intro to English course. To Jared, school was just an obstacle to the things he would rather be focusing on. His time partying, working out, and practicing on the field were all higher priorities for him. The only thing grades were good for were maintaining his sports scholarship.
"C'mon man, you can't fail me." Jared insisted, "I'll write a stupid essay or something. Ever heard of extra credit?"
Dr. Peters sighed, "Jared, I know you have the potential. You're a bright young man and..."
"Enough with the bullshitting." The young jock continued, "I'm sure I could pass your class if I gave a fuck." His eyes narrowed.
"In all my years of teaching, I've never..." Dr. Peters paused and regained his composure, "Look, I'm sorry Jared, but I can't just change your grade." He put the papers he had been reading down as his phone buzzed, "I'm sorry, I have to take this."
Jared watched as his professor stepped away and the young man sighed. Did he lose his cool? Yeah. Did it hurt his case? Fuck yeah. But he wasn't about to let some washed out, gay English nerd fuck with his life. Jared looked down at the papers Dr. Peters was reading and smirked. Without a second thought, he grabbed it and left the room.
-------------
Was stealing a bunch of papers from his English professor the best revenge he could think of? No, not at all. But when Jared started reading them, he nearly died from laughter.
"Did he write this shit?" Jared smirked, taking in Dr. Peter's handwriting, "Oh my god, dude needs to learn to type. Probably can't even afford a laptop on his shitty salary."
As Jared started to read the pages he had stolen, his expression shifted. He couldn't believe what he was reading.
"What a pervert." Jared chuckled, "This is what you spend your time writing about?" The story was unlike anything he expected. It detailed an intimate encounter between two men - Dr. Peters and an assistant coach named Chris, "You dirty fucker," Jared whispered under his breath.
But he couldn't help but continue to read over each line. The story unfolded with vivid descriptions of a burly, handsome assistant football coach, Chris. The broad shoulders, thick gut, hirsute form- oozing masculinity.
"So that's the type of guy Peters gets off to." Jared mused, "What a…" He shifted uncomfortably as he felt his cock beginning to stiffen, tenting against his jeans, "The fuck…?" He smirked, "Guess its been a bit since I got off…" He whispered.
Jared kept reading, his curiosity piqued despite himself. The story described how the English professor ran a hand through the assistant coach's thick chest hair, tracing the lines of muscle beneath. As he read these words, Jared felt an odd itching sensation on his own chest. He absently scratched at it, not realizing that fine hairs were beginning to sprout across his smooth skin.
He continued to read, now fully engrossed in the erotic tale unfolding before him. The professor leaned in closer to the coach, breathing in the scent of his cologne mixed with sweat. Jared inhaled deeply- he could swear he smelled it too. It was rugged, musky, and deliciously masculine. And it was coming from him. His own musky pits… And it smelled so good…
"What the hell." Jared shook his head, "Alright… time to put this down…"
Jared tried to set the papers aside, but found himself unable to look away. The story had taken hold of him, drawing him deeper into its world. As he read on, the characters' encounter grew more heated. The professor pressed his lips to the coach's neck, feeling the coarse stubble against his face. Jared winced as hairs sprouted from his own jawline, growing thicker until he sported a scraggly, manly beard.
"Wh-what the fuck?"
He tried to lift a hand to confirm what he had felt. But his hands remained stuck in place, holding the story. He couldn't even move his head, forced to stare at the pages and read what was on them.
"I can't move…" He stuttered, "I can't…"
Jared couldn't help but continue to read. Read the description of professor grasping the coach's muscular arms, Jared could feel his own biceps swell and thicken. But he couldn't look. Couldn't see the changes that the story wrought on his lean muscles and athletic form.
"Ohhhh... fuck…" He moaned.
The story detailed how the professor trailed kisses down the coach's chest, circling his nipples with his tongue. Jared gasped, feeling his own nipples harden and tingle. He wanted to look down, to see if they had darkened and enlarged like the coach's, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the pages. But he could feel his pecs swell, thickening with muscle, while also sagging and softening with age.
"Pl-please let me go…" Jared begged.
He read as the coach groaned, his hands roaming over the professor's body. Jared's fingers twitched, aching to do the same. To explore every inch of someone else's skin, to feel another man beneath him. He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. But they persisted, growing stronger with each passing moment. As the characters in the story began to undress each other, Jared felt his own clothes start to come undone and vanish, leaving him completely naked on his bed.
"Feels so good..." The cool air on his warm skin sent a shudder of pleasure through his increasingly larger form.
As Jared read on, he felt his scalp begin to tingle. He tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the vivid descriptions of the characters' bodies pressing together. But the sensation grew more intense, spreading across his entire head.
He gasped as he felt strands of hair loosen and fall away. More followed, clinging to his fingers as he reached up to feel the thinning locks. Panic surged through him, but he couldn't stop reading. The story described the professor running his hands through the coach's thinning hair, and Jared felt his own recede further, revealing more of his scalp.
"No… please no…" He whimpered, but the words came out slurred and weak. His voice was changing too, deepening into a gravelly rasp. He could hear the difference, but couldn't process what it meant.
Jared's eyes widened as he felt a sudden burst of heat across his skin. The story detailed the professor trailing kisses down the coach's chest, across his hairy belly and lower still. Jared gasped, feeling coarse hairs erupt across his own once-smooth torso. They sprang up everywhere - his chest, back, shoulders. He felt like a walking carpet, covered in a thick pelt of dark fur.
"I can't be becoming him... I can't be.... fuck..."
Despite the alarming changes, Jared found himself growing more aroused. The descriptions of the characters' bodies pressing together, their sweaty skin sliding against each other, filled him with a primal hunger. He craved that closeness, that intimacy. He wanted to feel another man's strong arms around him.
"Oh fuck that… I'm not gay…" The pace of his breathing had quickened, his mind was racing as he tried to process the changes, "I'm Jared. I'm not…"
The story described the professor reaching down to grasp the coach's throbbing cock, feeling it pulse in his hand. Jared moaned, his own member responding in kind. It lengthened and thickened. Pre-cum leaked from the tip, dripping down onto his furry thighs. He couldn't believe how sensitive he had become, how desperately he needed release.
"I need… I need…" He whimpered, but he couldn't find the words. Couldn't articulate the burning desire coursing through his veins. All he knew was that he craved another man's touch. Craved the feeling of being filled, of being used.
Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him.
Strong arms wrapped around Jared's waist, pulling him back against a solid, muscular frame. He gasped, his eyes snapping open as he realized he was no longer alone. Realized he wasn't even in his dorm room anymore. He was in a bedroom. Their bedroom. Their? No he was… he was… His eyes widened as the papers in his hands vanished, as the the story's words faded away, instead replaced by reality.
"W-what the fuck?" He stammered, trying to turn around. But the arms held him firmly in place.
A low, husky voice rumbled in his ear, "I love you, babe."
Jared froze, recognizing that voice instantly. It was Dr. Peters. But how?
Before he could process it further, he felt the older man's hand wrap around his throbbing cock. Fingers closed around the base, squeezing gently. Jared cried out, his hips bucking involuntarily.
"Yes, right there," Jared heard himself say, but the voice didn't belong to him. It was deeper, gruffer, and laced with lust. He tried to open his mouth to protest, but no sound came out. Instead, his lips formed a smile as he pushed back against Dr. Peters' hand.
Panic surged through Jared's mind as he realized he wasn't in control of his own body anymore. He was trapped, watching helplessly as the assistant coach persona took over. The one from the story.
"Please, don't stop," Coach moaned, his hips rocking in time with Dr. Peters' strokes. "I need you inside me."
As Dr. Peters guided him towards the bed, Jared's vision blurred. The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was a wedding band glinting on his own finger. Memories flooded his mind - memories of a life he hadn't lived. Of loving Dr. Peters, of being loved by him. Of countless nights spent entwined in each other's arms, of waking up to the older man's warm embrace.
-----------
"Babe? Babe?" Jared stirred awake, his eyelids fluttering open. He blinked groggily, trying to orient himself. The last thing he remembered was… what exactly? Something about a story... about Dr. Peters… No... Evan. His husband...
"Thank god, you passed out," Evan said, relief evident in his voice. He sat on the edge of the bed, a concerned look etched on his face. "I was worried sick about you."
Jared frowned, confusion clouding his mind. Passed out? Worried? What was going on? He glanced down at his hand, noticing the wedding band for the first time. It was gold, simple, but unmistakable. He lifted his hand to examine it, but Evan caught his wrist gently.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Evan murmured, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of Jared's hand.
Jared found himself nodding along, allowing Dr. Peters to guide him towards the bathroom. As they walked, Jared inspected his body. The thick chest hair, the broad shoulders, the paunch around his middle. None of it made sense. He was supposed to be a fit, muscular college athlete, not this… not this…
"Babe?"
As Jared looked at Evan, something clicked into place. The concern in his eyes, the gentle touch of his hands, the familiarity of his voice - it all fell together like pieces of a puzzle. This was his husband. His lover. The man he had built a life with. With a swift movement, Jared pushed Evan backwards onto the couch, pinning him beneath his weight. The older man yelped in surprise, but quickly melted into a pleased smile as he felt Jared's erection press against his thigh.
"We can't just leave it hanging like that, can we?"
"Kamu kalau aku bekep pake ini bakal ngamuk gak?" ujar Doni di WA sambil pamer biceps dan juga ketek berbulunya itu. Emang gak salah ngebuat adeknya yang culun itu jadi yang punya badan dia, itu anak 10x jauh lebih baik dibanding Doni
---
"If I suffocate you with this, will you be angry?" texted Doni while also posting a pic of him showing off his biceps and that god-so-musky armpit. I feel like I really made a great decision swapping Doni with his nerdy little brother, that dweeb is 10x better than the real Doni and he treated me so damn well
Wrong Bitch
“hey sexy”
Zach’s mind raced as he stroked his cock, flexing his muscles as he took a photo to send to Mary, the girl he had been seeing. He was drunk and wasn’t thinking straight, but he was sure she’d love it, and maybe even come over and have some fun haha?He put his phone down and went to take a shower to prepare, just in case.
However, in his drunken haze, he had accidentally sent it to some weird girl from his class, Marina, on instagram instead. She saw it, and wasn’t happy.
“???????”
“what the hell is wrong with you creep”
“you’re gonna regret this dickhead”
Unaware of his mistake, Zach just kept showering, hearing his phone buzz and imagining the things Mary was saying. He was so horny, so excited, that he didn’t even notice when he started shrinking, going from 6’0 to a petite 5’3, or when his muscles deflated, making his once huge arms and pecs smaller, still relatively big, but enough for him to look submissive and feminine instead of doninating. He started freaking out when he saw his still hard dick shrink, but it was not long lived as his mind adapted to his new reality.
He got out of the shower, put on his favorite black underwear, and then sent a pic once again, this time not to Mary, not to Marina, but to his grindr date, totally unaware of anything that just happened. He was still excited, still gonna have sex, but just a little bit differently.
Somewhere across town, someone laughed, thinking of herself as an arbiter of justice. She too, had made a mistake. But how could she know?
~~~~~~~~~~~
Haven’t posted for a while, hope you enjoyed! Shoutout to @dreamertf for the image ;)
“Confidence level: Taking a selfie without looking at the screen first.”