iatrogenic

Living, sometimes healing, sometimes hurting, always passing, certainly leaving

[stupidhimbo]

Everytime you went into this market, this big himbo was the one who checked your groceries out. Yesterday he left a note with his number and "I'm just too horny about you coming here every other day and I know you're like that too. Call me and we will sort this shit out cause I NEED to fuck your ass"

[swappersworld2]

[howtohimbo]

Most guys stay stuck as the wimpy nerd because they never stop thinking. They’re always in their head — overanalyzing texts, stressing about school or work, trying to sound smart, worrying what everyone thinks. It’s exhausting. It keeps you small, anxious, and invisible.

The big dumb jock has the opposite problem. His brain stays simple. He doesn’t overthink. He doesn’t spiral. He just moves through life lighter, more present, and way less stressed. That mental simplicity is the real advantage. Less noise in your head = more peace, more confidence, and way more room to actually enjoy shit.

Mental action point you can start today:

Every single time you catch yourself overthinking something today (and you will), stop and do this:

In your head, say:

“I don’t need to figure this out. I’m becoming a dumb jock.”

Then immediately shift your attention to something simple and physical — how your body feels sitting there, the weight of your arms, what you’re gonna eat later, or how good it feels to just breathe for a second. Don’t analyze it. Just notice it and move on.

Do this every time the overthinking starts. No push-ups, no mirror speeches, no performing. Just a quiet mental switch.

The more you practice letting go of the “smart guy” stress, the more your brain actually starts to chill out. That’s how it begins.

[misctf]

REQUEST FOR @exjocklover5: Love to see one where a handsome fit lacrosse player gets turned into a 35 year old beefy hairy carpenter house framer. Be cool to see a story about Joe who was a lacrosse goalie and captain was about to go pro but ended up with a knee injury. He found a sketchy healing drug online but instead it turned him into an exjock bluecollar man with a family in his thirties and an insatiable thirst for Busch light.

I took a few creative liberties here and wrote a long one lol. Enjoy!

-------------------

“C’mon,” Ethan muttered, gripping the back of the couch as he tried to straighten his right leg. “I’ve got this... I've... fuck!”

He exhaled deeply and collapsed onto the couch, wincing as the pain shot through his knee. It hurt so much, so fuckin' much. And it wasn't just physical. He could hear his phone buzzing, the messages piling up.

"You coming back this season, bro?"

"Tubing Friday. Your knee good enough yet?"

"Scouts still asking about you btw."

Ethan cursed again. He missed going to practice. Missed drinking with bros. Missed the parties, the dumb arguments, the camaraderie. He missed his life before the injury.

“Fuck me...” His head sunk into his hands, "Stupid fuckin' knee."

He glanced up at his stick and the framed photo of the team. Him in the middle with a wide grin and his arm around his bros. Fuck... he wanted to get back to that. And he wanted to get back fast.

"There's gotta be a way..." He muttered.

An hour later he was deep in rehab forums when an ad stopped him cold.

BUILD-U-BACK RECOVERY NOW ENROLLING IN YOUR AREA: A NEW START, LASTING RELIEF

“Sounds fake as hell,” Joe murmured. But when he glanced back at the team photo he felt a pang in his chest. He reached for his wallet soon after.

----------------

This was it. Ethan stood on the empty practice field, stick in hand. The cold night air felt good against his warm skin. The stadium lights already dimming.

"Okay..." He bounced on the balls of his feet, "Okay, I've got this."

He dropped into goalie stance carefully, bracing for the pain. But it never came.

"No way..." Ethan pushed harder, shuffling across the crease before planting sharply off the bad leg, "Oh my god." He laughed with disbelief, "No fuckin' way!"

"Walsh?"

Ethan spun and smiled wider when he saw Luke, "Bro!"

"Dude! You're running!"

"I know! I fuckin' know!" He pointed at his knee, "It's gone, dude! It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Let's fuckin' go, bro!"

It fuckin' worked. That fuckin' drug actually worked! Ethan stood proud, chest heaving and adrenaline surging. He was back. Practice, scouts, games, parties... it was all back.

-----------------

“Dude! First game back, you feel ready?”

Ethan looked up from tying his cleats and grinned. “More than ready.”

He tugged at the bottom of his hoodie, annoyed again by how tight it felt around his waist and chest. He’d already stopped wearing some of his older shirts entirely after realizing they didn’t fit right anymore. He figured his dryer was doing a number on his wardrobe.

“We won’t be too upset if you fuck up out there,” Luke said while peeling his shirt over his head. “We get you’re a little rusty.”

“Eat shit,” Ethan laughed, tossing a roll of tape at him before reaching for his own hoodie.

The cool air felt warm against his skin, and Ethan scratched absentmindedly at his chest, pausing for just a moment as his fingers tangled with thicker hairs there.

"The fuck...?" Ethan frowned and looked down.

Dark curls spread across the middle of his chest before trailing down his stomach and disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts. Sweat glistened faintly through the hair despite the cold room, and when Ethan shifted slightly, the waistband dug tighter against a stomach that suddenly looked thicker than he remembered.

"I shaved this shit this morning..." He figured the hair growth was a side effect of the drug, but he'd spent the last few days making sure he kept it under control. But now...?

Luke whistled low. “Damn, Walsh. Didn’t realize the recovery plan involved growing a lawn on your chest and blowing out your waistline.”

A couple guys laughed awkwardly before looking away again.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ethan muttered, pulling his jersey on faster than usual. The fabric stretching tighter around his waist than he remembered.

Nobody really said anything after that.

Ethan forced a grin anyway and slammed his locker shut. “Alright, boys,” he called out. “Let’s do this.”

-------------

It was supposed to feel normal again. Friday night. Sports bar packed wall-to-wall after the game. Music too loud. Ethan sat wedged between Luke and Dylan with a cold Busch Light in his hand before realizing halfway through the bottle that he didn’t even remember ordering it.

“You looked like shit tonight,” Luke laughed.

“Appreciate it.”

“Seriously though, you good?”

Ethan scratched at the rough stubble on his chin. “Just playing bad.”

His phone buzzed against the table.

"CONGRATULATIONS ON ONE MONTH! YOUR NEXT PHASE OF RECOVERY STARTS TONIGHT!"

Ethan frowned at the notification before locking the screen again, "Next phase?" He stared at his arm, now dusted with dark hairs.

"Hey Ethan." Luke nudged him, "Someone's staring."

Ethan spotted her across the bar. Blond. Gorgeous. Smiling at him. For the first time all night, something loosened in his chest.

“There we go,” Dylan laughed when he caught Ethan staring. “That’s the Walsh we know.”

Ethan grinned and took another sip. Soon after, he was fumbling with his apartment keys while she laughed softly beside him in the hallway. They moved to his bedroom, clothes discarded quickly.

"Fuck..." Ethan whispered, as she kissed slowly along his neck, "I needed..."

"Standby mode protocol upload."

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“What?” she asked softly.

“It's uh... Nothin’.”

Her hands slid slowly across his chest and draped around his shoulders before pausing.

“Wow,” she said with a small laugh. “You’re kinda hairy.”

Ethan glanced down automatically, eyes widening at the sight of the dark hair curling across his shoulders and down his back.

"That's not..." He knew it wasn't there five hours ago.

“Sorry,” she added quickly, still smiling. “You’re just hairer than most guys I’ve been with.”

"Pleasure directives stem from labor initiatives."

Ethan winced hard enough that she finally pulled back slightly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I just...” He rubbed at his forehead. “I don’t feel right.”

She kissed him again anyway, her hand sliding lower across the thicker, softer shape of his stomach before slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers and around his flaccid cock.

“Oh,” she laughed gently, trying to mask her confusion.

Ethan glanced down, a wave of sickening humiliation washing over him. His cock stayed completely dead. Buried in a dense, coarse mat of newly thick pubic hair and a rapidly expanding fat pad, his dick looked distinctly shorter, stubbier, and entirely useless

“You okay?” she asked again, quieter this time.

“Yeah. I just...” He swallowed hard. “I dunno. It's not working... I... Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said softly, “Seriously. It happens.”

A few minutes later he stood awkwardly by the door while she slipped her shoes back on.

“Maybe just stress?” she offered gently.

“Yeah.” Ethan forced a laugh. “Probably.”

After she left, the apartment felt painfully quiet again. Ethan stood there shirtless for another minute before walking to the fridge automatically and grabbing another Busch Light.

------------

A week had passed, and Ethan exhaled heavily as he stepped out of the shower. He’d stopped changing in the locker room after practice a few days ago, tired of catching teammates staring too long at his stomach or shoulders before awkwardly looking away. Now, alone in his apartment, there was nobody else left to notice except him.

“Jesus Christ...” he whispered at his reflection.

The mirror across from the bed reflected somebody that looked wrong. Dark curls spread heavily across his chest and shoulders now, while rough stubble shadowed his jaw despite shaving before practice that morning. Even standing still, his body looked heavier than it used to.

“I’m exercising,” Ethan muttered weakly. “I’m eating healthy...” His eyes drifted toward the empty Busch Light cans scattered across the nightstand, “I...”

"Standby initiating."

Ethan’s breath caught as the voice echoed in his head.

“What the...”

"Standby mode active."

Every muscle in his body locked instantly.

Ethan jerked hard against it on instinct, but nothing responded correctly. His fingers twitched once beside his thigh before going still again. His chest continued rising and falling normally. He could blink. Breathe. Swallow. But that was it.

“What... the fuck...” he forced out weakly.

Hours passed as Ethan sat frozen on the edge of the bed staring into the mirror. The rough hair across his chest thickened slowly while his stomach pushed heavier against his lap with every shallow breath. His face itched constantly as a dark beard spread across his jaw until he looked like he hadn’t shaved in weeks.

A knock on the door and the sound of heavy footsteps entering his apartment made him tense. He watched as two men in BUILDING-U-BACK jackets entered his room and stopped mid-step when they saw Ethan in nothing but a pair of tight sweatpants.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “That’s the lacrosse kid?”

“Yeah. CRW-57F.”

The younger guy kept staring. “Still got some of that frat-boy face left.”

“Not for too long.”

The younger rep shook his head slowly. “Weird seeing one this young.”

“Don’t worry,” the older rep said casually. “Give it a week and you won’t even be able to pick 'em out from the others.”

Ethan strained against the paralysis hard enough that his jaw twitched once.

“You know what’s crazy?” the younger rep continued. “Six months from now he’ll be drinking beer after shifts talking about kids that don’t exist like the rest of ’em.”

“Yeah well, the whole family-man thing makes clients comfortable. People trust workers who look settled.”

One of them glanced toward the empty Busch Light cans beside the bed.

“Damn,” he muttered. “He’s already self-reinforcing.”

“Good sign.”

Ethan let out another whimper as he tried to reach for his phone, but his arm wouldn't budge.

“Oh shit,” the younger rep said suddenly. “You think he knows what we’re saying?”

“Nah,” the older rep replied casually. “The lab guys say there's not much left going on upstairs during standby.”

Ethan felt something cold settle quietly in his chest. The older rep finally looked directly at him and nodded toward the hallway.

“C’mon CRW-57F," He tossed him his old lacrosse hoodie, "Housing assignment’s ready.”

Ethan stood automatically.

------------

Ethan barely remembered the drive to the facility. He had been packed into a van shoulder-to-shoulder with a few other hirsute guys sporting beer guts. His eyes remained fixed on the man across from him, and Ethan realized with growing dread that it was like looking in a mirror.

"There's been a mistake!" He tried to call out, but the words in his head wouldn't leave his mouth, "Please..."

When they did finally arrive at the facility, he was walked to a featureless room with a table and a few bins.

"This is CRW-57F." A man said to his colleague, entering the room, "Originally Ethan Walsh. Signed up for the program for an injured knee." He looked down at his clipboard, "Worker identity is officially Joe Mercer."

"Joe Mercer? That's not..." He thought, but the name Ethan was already starting to feel distant.

"Alright, let's get him in the system." The man continued, "We're going to need your personal belongings, CRW-57F."

Joe felt as he reached into his pocket and gripped his phone. He quickly dropped it into one of the bins, along with his keys, wallet, student ID.

"Oh shit, that's the college kid?" One of the men said, looking down at the ID.

"Yeah, lacrosse player, if you can believe it now."

"Damn, that drug did a number on him." The man sighed, "Okay, CRW-57F, need the clothes too."

Ethan winced as he gripped his team's lacrosse hoodie and yanked it off. Cool air hit the thick hair covering his chest and stomach, and he heard one of the employees exhale quietly through his nose.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Hope the knee was worth it.”

"Update on the apartment?"

"Cleaning crew is taking care of that, lease will terminate tomorrow."

"N-No..." Ethan thought, imagining them clearing it out. His team photo. His lacrosse gear. The clothes crammed into the closet. Every piece of evidence that Ethan Walsh had ever existed.

"Family updated?" The other man nodded, "And..."

"What do you think? Took it poorly." The other man sighed, "Kid’s barely old enough to drink and now he’s gonna look older than his dad."

"Visitation scheduled?"

"In a month."

Ethan felt his stomach twist. The thought of his parents seeing him like this made him want to disappear.

"By then he'll be settled enough that it won't matter much." The rep muttered, "They all stop trying eventually."

One of them picked up Ethan's student ID and looked at the picture for a second before tossing it into the bin with the rest of his belongings.

"Poor kid."

"Yeah."

The lid snapped shut. A folded stack of clothes landed in Ethan’s arms a second later. Gray work shirt. Plain jeans. Steel-toe boots. The employee checked another box on his clipboard.

“Alright CRW-57F,” he said casually. “let's get you downstairs.”

------------

Ethan barely slept.

The worker housing smelled like sweat, musk, sawdust, and stale beer. The bed made his back ache. Men wandered the halls at all hours wearing gray shirts and work pants, scratching at thick stomachs or rubbing sleep from heavy eyes while they talked about wives, back pain, football games, and their kids.

“Tyler’s putting on weight. Gonna join the football team like his old man.”

“Yeah? Mine just turned thirteen. Kid's eating me out of house and home already!”

Ethan sat quietly on the edge of his bed with a Busch Light in his hand, staring toward the floor while his body moved through routines his brain still hadn’t fully accepted. Every few hours that same pressure built behind his eyes again, and afterward his thoughts always came back slower.

"Who are these people?" He wondered, "They all look... the same..."

But when he looked down, he realized how much he looked like them too. Even more than the night he was brought to the facility. The gut, the hair, the beard, the weathered skin... what the fuck had they done to him?

“Tyler’s putting on weight. Gonna join the football team like his old man.”

Ethan looked up slowly. A different pair of workers stood near the vending machines now.

“Yeah? Mine just turned thirteen. Kid's eating me out of house and home already!” The exact same laugh followed.

Ethan felt his stomach tighten. It was the same conversation, the same cadence… the same everything. They all talked like that. All looked the same. Nothing to distinguish them...

"Lacrosse." He thought suddenly.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture the locker room. The smell of the gear. The roar after a clean save. He could almost see the jersey. Blue. Or green? No... Red?

Ethan shuddered and took another swig of his beer.

------------

He couldn't recall the drive out here. One moment he was climbing into his assigned bunk, the next he was hauling lumber across a chaotic job site. Sweat drenched the thick hair across his torso. He reeked, too... of sawdust, exhaustion, and that stale musk clinging like the rest of them. He craved a shower, but knew better. Management preferred them this way.

"57F?" Two reps walked past him, "Still not meeting his quotas."

"Really? You'd think with him having been a star athlete..."

"Eh, you would think." The rep muttered, "We've found it really doesn't."

"Shame. We'll ship him out to Ohio tomorrow then, they're looking for more men and he's slowing us down."

He continued to work, but their words kept repeating in his head. A month ago, he was a star. Always getting positive feedback, always being commended. Now, he was failing at whatever this nightmare was.

"Joe?" He turned immediately to see one of the workers approach him, "You remember my boy, yeah?" The man smiled, "Tyler’s putting on weight. Gonna join the football team like his old man."

"Yeah?" The word left his mouth before he could even think about it. In fact, he didn't even really process it. Everything slowed suddenly, simplified in his brain. Lacrosse? Old apartment? Friends? Suddenly, it felt far from reach, "Mine just turned thirteen." He'd heard those words before from the other workers. The exact same words. Delivered in the same cadence, with the same gravely voice. Now... those words were coming from him, "Kid's eating me out of house and home already!"

Both men laughed. But as the other worker stepped away, Ethan's eyes widened.

"Fuck... no..." His thoughts were slower than they had been just two minutes prior. But so was his anxiety. Everything suddenly felt so much simpler, "La-lacrosse... lacrosse... not this..." He repeated for as long as his mind let him.

The pressure behind his eyes returned immediately. Ethan squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the lumber until his knuckles turned white. He tried to hold onto the panic, tried to hold onto the certainty that something terrible was happening to him, but even that feeling seemed to be slipping away. The fear was still there. He could feel it. Yet every second it felt smaller, duller, less important than the work waiting around him.

"Joe!" He looked up automatically. One of the workers waved him over, "Quit daydreaming. Grab this end."

He did as he was told and the pressure vanished. Relief flooded him, washing away the confusion, the panic...

"Appreciate it," the worker said.

"No problem." The answer came naturally, "I ain't no slacker."

The two men carried the load across the site together while talking about football, kids, weekend plans, and just how good the cold beer at the end of the day would taste. Across the yard, one of the reps glanced up from his clipboard.

"Huh... Looks like Ohio's getting him just in time."

"I guess so..."

Joe adjusted the lumber on his shoulder and laughed at something one of the other workers said. The sound blended effortlessly with the rest of the crew as they disappeared into the noise of the job site.

[butterflyeffect-tfs]

David here used to be a straight A student. Top of his class, about to graduate college. Then I went back in time and made his parents sign him up for football. Now he’s a proper alpha jock. Grades aren’t as good, but who cares? Football is all that matters. I think the butterfly effect works pretty well, don’t you?

[howtohimbo]

Life is So Much Better as a Big Dim-Witted Jock Bro

Hey bros,

Let’s be real for a second.

Life gets way better when you stop overthinking everything and just become a big, dim-witted jock bro.

Imagine waking up every day with a simple, happy brain. No stress. No complicated thoughts. Just flexing in the mirror, feeling your muscles, and getting horny the second you see yourself or someone else.

You eat. You lift. You fuck. You smile. That’s it.

No more worrying about being smart or serious. You get to be dumb, hot, and carefree. People look at you and just want you, because you’re big, pretty, and easy to be around.

Your sex drive stays maxed out, so you’re always down for cock, pussy, or whatever feels good. You get attention everywhere you go. You feel good in your body. You don’t need to pretend anymore.

That’s the kind of life I want for you.

If you’re tired of overthinking and ready to get bigger, dumber, and happier… this is your sign.

[tf-lover]

Always Read The Fine Print

Cleo didn't exactly want to get a job, but she wasn't given much of a choice. After one too many late night parties that'd ended with her wealthy father paying off cops not to charge her and her friends for drunk driving and property damage, things had changed. Get a job or she would be financially cut off, that was the ultimatum she was given. So Cleo went in search of something, anything, that would be tolerable; if it pissed her father off at the same time that would be a bonus.

That's what led her to interviewing at Hooters. Waiting tables wasn't her idea of a fun time, but it paid well and was the type of job her father would despise her having. Parading around dressed in almost nothing and showing her body off was a little objectifying sure, but if she landed it her father's reaction alone would be worth it. Horror and irritation would colour his weathered features; she could see the look on his face already.

"Thank you for coming in all of you." The manager said to the room full of prospective employees. "We're excited to get the ball rolling with this new venture, as I'm sure so are all of you. We'll hand out your contracts to be signed soon along with your uniform, then we'll get onto training!"

The manager, an enigmatic man with grey hair, had explained already this was a new location being opened. They had one on the other side of the city, but as with the corporate world they always needed more clients. It suited Cleo, the other place had been impossible to get an interview at until they directed her to this new location, and the drive from home wasn't that bad. So what if there were a few gay bars on this side of town, that if anything would just annoy her father more seeing her work in amongst those types.

As promised the manager soon handed our documents for them to sign agreeing to the terms of employment. All pretty standard stuff she was promised, which was good because she wasn't the type to bore herself with reading the whole thing. That was for losers like her lawyer father. The only thing she did take notice of before she flicked through to the back page was the name at the top.

"Ummm, sorry but I think something's wrong with this?" She waved the manager over to the booth she was sitting at and pointed at the words printed in bold in the 'Full Name' section. Cole Owens. "That's not my name, it's Cleo."

The manager just smiled and waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry, it's just a typo. We'll get it fixed for you but we need you to sign it for now so we can get on with the more fun stuff. You've still got a uniform to try on and food to taste so you can recommend it to customers."

Cleo shrugged and scrawled her signature on the back. C Owens in a fancy cursive scrawl she'd made up when she was 12, including making the 'w' look like a heart. It was just a typo, what was the harm in that? Besides, she could already see the portions of food and drink getting set out for them to taste, and that was far more interesting than some form.

Once that was all squared away it was onto the food. The other girls were all excited to dig in, much like her paying not much mind to the details and instead grabbing small glasses of wine to 'taste' and picking at the food on display.

They chatted, made small talk as they sampled everything, and Cleo found they actually weren't so bad. Cleo found that most of the girls there weren't for the same reasons as her, most were down on their luck and really needed the job to pay the bills. Not like her who was here to be taught a lesson. They were good people, fun people, but different from her in a way that made Cleo feel a little awkward as they ate their way through the food and drink on offer.

It was only once most of the food was gone did the manager move them onto trying on uniforms to make sure everything fit. "Each of you will have a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, though I imagine you're all aware of what it looks like. Standard sizing but once you've got it on if anything doesn't fit in... Certain places let me know and I can make some swaps with our extra stock." He turned and picked up a sealed packet. "We've got a couple of rooms out the back you're welcome to use to change in. Who's first?"

Cleo glanced around, then stuck her hand up. "I'll go. May as well see what I'm in for."

The few girls that had got the story out of Cleo as to why she was applying laughed a little at her quick volunteering. Cleo got up and took the clothes from the older man, then headed off towards the back room to get them on. Being fairly well endowed in the chest department Cleo expected trouble with the t-shirt but she could at least give it a shot; a place like Hooters must have thought about that.

Cleo stripped down to change the second she was alone. The thong and skimpy bra she'd worn were the only things left on by the time she was ready to try the clothes on, clothes she still wasn't sure would properly fit. She laid them out to properly look and when she did she was even more sure they were cut all wrong for her; the top wasn't nearly big enough to fit over her chest but looked too broad in the shoulders at the same time. And the shorts were a similar story, too loose in the front and not quite enough in the back. But she owed it to the job to at least make an attempt before she went back and changed them.

The shorts she decided would be first. They were the less offensive of the two items in terms of how she thought they would fit, so they would do. As Cleo suspected the shorts weren't the most comfortable, they fit strangely over her thighs as she pulled them up, but she wasn't the type to let a simple pair of shorts win so easily. So up they went, pulled tight and a bad fit overall she could tell that much, but at least they were on. The t-shirt was much a similar story too; loose on the shoulders as expected and it barely covered her breasts leaving her stomach exposed.

"What on earth was he thinking?" Cleo looked down at how badly the clothes fit and shook her head. "Like he wasn't even trying to get the sizes right."

As she ran her hands over the clothes and tried to tug them into a slightly more comfortable position, something felt off. Or rather, didn't feel off. The more she tried to adjust them the more she was realising perhaps they didn't fit so bad after all. It wasn't perfect, they probably still needed changing, but Cleo wondered now if maybe it wasn't so bad.

"Actually, maybe I could work with these." She mumbled as a few more adjustments had the clothes feeling even less restrictive than they had before.

Cleo frowned and rolled her shoulders back as she tried to get comfortable. Something was off, but for the life of her she couldn't work out what. The clothes were fine really now they had a chance to settle on her body; it was probably just being so new that made them fit badly at first she assumed.

But there was something. The dull ache that ran up her spine. The scratch in her throat that made her want to start coughing to clear it. The slight tingling, itching sensation that was spreading under her skin as she stood under the artificial lights of the windowless back room. A throbbing heat between her legs she hadn't realised was there.

Despite all that though, Cole didn't know what she was so worried about with this uniform. The top hugged her broad shoulders just right, and the cut of it came down just under her sculpted pecs so her abs were still on show. The shorts too were tight over his muscled ass and made sure to show off the hefty bulge between his thighs. It was about as perfect of a fit as Cole could have asked for.

Cole looked down at himself and blinked once. Then again as he slowly flexed arms that were straining the t-shirt tight around them. He grabbed the bulge of his cock and balls between his legs and squeezed it, then did the same to his tight bubbled ass. He felt like he was seeing himself for the first time... But that couldn't be right. Could it?

"What the fuck?!"

Cole's deep voice echoed through the dimly lit room as reality came crashing down around him. Her. Her, because she was Cleo not Cole. She had, not five minutes ago, been complaining about the fit of this stupid uniform that was now perfect. Perfect on her male body.

"Oh fucking shit I'm a man? What the hell?!" Even the voice that left her was all masculine and sexy, deep with just a hint of southern drawl Cleo new was hot as hell. "This cannot be happening."

But it was. The admittedly hot male body Cleo now had was undeniable. All muscled and handsome and perfectly formed, and perfectly real too. Perfectly Cole.

"No. No I-" Cleo, or rather Cole paused as a dangerous idea ran through her mind. His mind. "I could never. But maybe..."

What was better to piss his father off than by giving the old geezer the son he'd always wanted, but in the worst way possible? It wasn't like deep down Cleo was attached to being a woman, not really. Especially when he could get a healthy dose of male privilege too by becoming a son instead of a daughter. A son that was a show off and a slut. A son that was incredibly gay because he knew his attraction to men was still unchanged. A son that worked, but at bars and clubs with just a little showing himself off online to really pull the money in. A guy like Cole wouldn't need daddy's credit card when he was pulling in six figures without even trying.

Cole smirked and took another look at his body. "Alright Cole... Let's give Daddy a scare eh?"

All Cole had to do now was find that manager and make sure this gorgeous body didn't fade when this uniform came off. But he had his ways; Cleo had always been a persuasive girl and Cole reckoned that hadn't changed now...

[tfkinksterz]

You see? All it took to turn an uppity California twink into a humble, rough-and-tumble Ohio wrestling star, was 2 nights of extensive hypnotic conditioning and 6 gallons of my special little beefer-upper formula. Now look at him, bulging in that Ohio State singlet, loyal to his school, his state, his coach. He has no memory of his days of fashion blogging and avocado toast on the West Coast. As far as he’s concerned, he’s always been a beef-eating Ohio boy, and I’ve always been his father and his coach, and he respects and obeys me. That’s the way it’s gonna be for him, now and forever.

[collegenerdtojock]

"If you guys see what we did on the field, damn we literally slayed the game just like you guys always did," said the jock with the number #3 jersey, Colt

The two real jocks can only grunt as their mouth muffled by socks taped to their mouth and their body fully tied.

"We thought this shit won't fully work and actually we never planned to make this permanent but I guess the past 3 hours totally changed our outlook on this," added the jock wearing #30 jersey, Dan, as he smiled mischievously to his buddy

"Tomorrow, you two won't even remember a shred of your past life," said 'Colt' as he grabbed a vial from his back pocket, the liquid inside is glowing and ready to make the changes permanent to the life of 4 high school seniors.

[collegenerdtojock]

"If you guys see what we did on the field, damn we literally slayed the game just like you guys always did," said the jock with the number #3 jersey, Colt

The two real jocks can only grunt as their mouth muffled by socks taped to their mouth and their body fully tied.

"We thought this shit won't fully work and actually we never planned to make this permanent but I guess the past 3 hours totally changed our outlook on this," added the jock wearing #30 jersey, Dan, as he smiled mischievously to his buddy

"Tomorrow, you two won't even remember a shred of your past life," said 'Colt' as he grabbed a vial from his back pocket, the liquid inside is glowing and ready to make the changes permanent to the life of 4 high school seniors.

[yournewbody]

I could really use a cup of coffee!

Can I get a vanilla latte. Whole milk.

How awkward.

You walk right as I'm putting that whole milk in that latte of yours. I'm usually pretty pent up no matter how often I blow my load throughout the day and you've got a big batch of whole milk going right in that coffee of yours.

Yes that's me. Yes this is my work uniform lol. I sweat a lot. All this fur does have its downside. I tuck my cock back in my pants and make you your vanilla latte. You look around Hot Coffee and I can already see your cock starting to get hard in your chinos. This is just a little pop up here in Brooklyn. I don't know how long we'll be here, but as you can see, business is doing well to toot my own horn.

Yes the smell usually hits people first. Right in their cocks. And you're no different. All Hot Coffee locations smell like locker rooms. Mostly because my musk is just so powerful. You fondle your cock unconsciously as you step forward and grab your drink. I can already see the sweat stains under your armpits. It's probably because I'm here that the musk is that much more powerful. Your nice Polo is probably ruined by all that sweat.

But you thank me and grab your coffee. I tell you that it's probably best if you stayed around for a while, winking and rubbing my still chubbed-up cock. You blush and walk away, taking sips from your....surprisingly good drink? You just saw me cum in it and yet it tastes delicious. Your cock feels like it's about to break the zipper of your pants it's so hard. Literally straining against the fabric.

You wander over to the magazine rank and see mostly gay porn mags and erotica, which you thumb through while absently sipping your drink. I'm watching you, not like a hawk or a creep, but I do love seeing what the Coffees do to people.

Like, for example, the cup it came in was pretty big but when you take another sip it's gone already. You could've sworn you've been pacing yourself. Only taking one or two sips at a time. Right? You throw the cup away, aware of just how much you're sweating. You lift your arm out of curiosity and get a noseful of your pit. It's deeply musky and earthy. The scent is making your cock strain your chinos even harder. You're openly rubbing your cock as another customer comes in and grabs a different drink. They don't really pay attention to you don't worry, he just kind of looks at you curiously as you massage your cock through your pants.

He leaves. Imagine him transforming on the train.

Anyway.

I watch you again.

Because I love seeing where the Coffee affects people first. For some it's their cocks. Others their nipples. But when you bend over and slam your arms on a nearby table to steady yourself, I know it's hitting your ass first. You're panting and gasping for air. Literally humping the table in front of you as your cock drools pre. Your asshole is puckering and loosening, the muscles inside strengthening and widening and able to take any size cock deep inside of it. It feels like you're getting fucked doesn't it? A big cock head just going around and around your hole.

Your tongue falls out of your agape mouth as the cheeks surrounding that sensitive, pink hole, start ballooning.

And with that ballooning, all that inflating muscle, your stomach gurgles and some of the fat slides away, makes the journey down to your hips - pushing them wider and straining your belt and pants - and then to your ass, making it bigger and jigglier and bouncer. It's so huge the chinos are screaming, begging. Then they rip. Your underwear is also torn, your pink, puckering hole fully in view. My cock is hard again and I'm rubbing it right beneath my pants. Your back arches and sticks your ass out even further as the cheeks round out, huge, plump, pale.

And hairless.

You haven't noticed it yet but your body is shedding itself of its hair. With every droplet of sweat, some of your thick hair falls off to the ground. Your beard is gone, leaving your face baby smooth, which then causes your lips to thicken and become as sensitive and pink as your asshole, and as plump as your cheeks.

"Fuck!"

You hump the air even more fervently as your nipples start expanding. They're pressing against the sweat soaked Polo. Not exactly chafing, but the erotic assault on your enlarged nipples and the overwhelming heat makes you strip off your Polo. Your stomach shrinks again as your hips fan out wider, ass gets a bit bigger. And those pesky pants break right off you, the button just popping off and scattering somewhere else.

You're huffing and puffing, using your expanding, plumpening, softening hands to tweak your huge nipples. More fat moves from your stomach up to your pecs as the muscles also begin expanding.

"Please!"

You're desperate. I'm not sure how long I can sit here stroking my cock before I have to fuck you. So I walk from behind the counter, position myself behind your huge, beautiful ass, and then begin sliding my hard cock right between those cheeks. Everything's so sensitive, so overloaded, that you literally can't hold it back and you start cuming, further ruining your already stretched and torn briefs. I take them off of you. Let those thighs fatten up. They have to carry that big fat ass of yours. I rub my cock between your ass, feel the muscle of your thighs thicken, your sensitive inner thighs touching those swollen, heavy balls of yours.

I reach around and move your hands away from your tits, pin them behind your back with one hand. I use the other to massage those beautiful muscle tits of yours, which keep expanding into my hands. I'm not even fucking you yet but your body is bucking and quivering as if I am. Your chest keeps expanding with muscle and all the remaining fat left in your stomach as abs start to form on your soft tummy. From beneath my hands, I feel your forearms and biceps balloon. They're huge and soft. So pliable. So cuddly.

You're going to be so cuddly, just a little horny puppy dog with very little in the way of thoughts. I'm pretty stupid but I don't think you're gonna be able to add 2+2 when you get horny. You have to find some way to relieve that pressure after all. Yeah you have no body hair but those pits are thick with musk, hairy, sweaty after a good fuck session or workout. Your feet slip out of your shoes as they shrink to a more suitable size 8. You don't need those big feet anymore.

Your face is so handsome. Totally hairless, plump lips. I'm not even sure you have a gag reflex anymore. Your eyes glazed over with pleasure. When you raise your head and moan loudly as something yanks at the base of your cock, I dive into that ass of yours. You take me like a champ. All 9 inches of me. No doubt your brain is just fried. Your cock is endlessly cumming because your balls are growing and producing more seed.

Flex for me baby.

And you do. You throw your arms up and I get a good whiff of those pits. Your biceps are huge, a small layer of fat making the definition softer and less intimidating. In fact, the last few layers of fat in your stomach divide among your body as everything gets just that much softer, that much more sensitive the skin around your ass and pecs stretched to capacity. Your six-pack is defined, the strength of your core obvious as your waist widens as I fuck you. Your back and shoulders widen and expand. Those shoulders need to carry those tits of yours, support them. And you can't be a complete bottom with horrible back pain from supporting those jugs.

You moan loudly as I fuck you. Your cock is still descending. Shrinking in size as it leaks cum everywhere. You stop at a good 4 inches, losing around 3 full inches in length. But it doesn't matter. You've got this fat ass I'm using. Those stress ball tits you can play with whenever, wherever.

I cum hard inside of you and you follow as you feel yourself get filled up. I hold you, wrap my arms around you and just let my cock do its thing in you. You're whimpering and groaning. I can tell just how happy you are. Those shreds of clothes around you. This beautiful body.

When I pull out you look at me confused and a little lost. You pout a little, rubbing your ass and inching your finger to your hole. Your cock softening but not entirely. You stand up and feel the weight of your body, your arms, your thighs, the strength in your limbs. The jiggling of your ass and tits as you follow me over to the counter, like a sweet puppy dog.

I hand you a pair of purple briefs from behind the counter, because nothing's going to fit you back home. Sorry to say. But I want to show you what you look like, because that Coffee did a number on you.

What do you think?

Oh I think I've lost you playing with those tits of yours.

And your cock is hard again.

Oh well.

I think you remember where you live at least so that's a plus.

But for right now, I'm just gonna let you get used to this heavy, new body of yours.

Oh and when you're ready for round two, or cuddles, I'll be right here.

[stupidhimbo]

Serious himbo

He's serious, too fucking serious at times, never smiles, doesn't express a drop of emotions most of the time, is romantic but always with that serious face he was born with. The only moment he really smiles is when he's fucking your throat open so hard your eyes go blank.

[papermoon357]

Before he could even react a guy leapt on his shoulders and started squeezing the nerd out of him. At first it was hard for him to carry the dude but before long he was growing the jock bod and mind for him to love the thighs and cock rubbing against his head.

[chrispyrecaptions]

"HEY! Bad Kitty. Get off the counter!"

Ever since your cat knocked your hunk potion of the counter and lapped it up you've been stucked with this muscle beast roaming around your house. You've got admit, it's pretty hot, especially when he curls up with you at night, but man... you gotta figure out how to get it som human brains.

[dentrotfs-deactivated20260123]

Broaden Your Horizons

A twink learns to be more open minded…

[frozenthrall]

A Good Top

Being a gay Asian guy who didn't look the part was something Jin was extremely familiar with. With beauty standards and stereotypes going around, the guy had a hard time finding a partner. Now, he wasn't bad looking, if anything he had that 'cuteness' to him. That's what every guy he was with told him. But being a top who was constantly undermined for his looks, such compliments felt like a slap in the face.

He wasn't particularly tall, standing at 5'8, but... He wasn't short. Or at least he didn't consider himself short. He was average... A bit below average but still-! Unfortunately for Jin it wasn't just his height that he had problems with. His round face, soft eyes, skinny body... And 4 inches member were all seemingly working against him. God knows how many times he heard the question "Are you really a top?" And similar. People assumed he was a bottom just because of how he looked and he hated it.

And today? He had the same experience again. After sending his selfie to a guy he met online through an app, the guy almost immediately cancelled on him just because Jin "didn't look the part". And the guy wasn't even shy about it. He told Jin everything in his face and poor guy was both speechless and fueled with anger. But just as he was about to block this guy he saw a new message from him.

lankylavander: Sorry dude, no offense, but you are like shorter than me. I could never date someone below 6ft lol

lankylavander: Here is how a top should be

After which he sent a link to some website. And in fit of rage, Jin just clicked it without thinking as he was brought to a page that showcased a bunch of absolutely jacked hung jocks. He hated to admit but they all looked great. But that didn't matter now, as he was about to close the site he saw a pop-up add. It was some kind of app called "Be The Part" promising to help people change into who they truly are meant to be.

Normally Jin would ignore such obvious scam but today for some reason he clicked it and downloaded the app, without even replying to the guy on the app. That jerk could fuck off.

Opening the app, Jin was met with a few questions asking him about what he wanted and what was his problem. Writing how he wishes he was more like a top. A stereotypical one. And how he had enough of people looking down at hom just because of his looks, Jin was disappointed to find the app just seemed to send you words of encouragement and support for you to achieve your goal. Pretty stupid. But what did he honestly expect from such thing...?

Closing the app, Jin sighed, tossing his phone to the side. He needed to take a break from everything and calm down. Stuck with his thoughts, he heard a notification from his phone. Weird, he was pretty sure it was on silent mode. Whatever. Taking a phone to see what it was, Jin saw it was the damn app. How lovely let's see what it had to say...

"A Good Top spends every day in the gym, working on his body to make sure he looks good for his bottom. And you big guy? You look great. Hunk like you loves the pump and sweat. You relish knowing others envy you and wish they looked more like you. And nothing comes close to the feeling of your clothes stretching over your body, trying their best to hold on and contain all that brawn you carry "

Suddenly Jin felt a warn sensition take over him. Something was wrong but he couldn't quite name it. The feeling spread though his entire body as it began to pulse and grow, both in muscle and height. It was like his entire body was on fire. Groaning in what was a mix of pain and pleasure Jin could feel his clothes stretching over his muscles, his skin feeling too tight. With every second he was bigger, as if someone was pumping air into him. He could feel his spine getting longer until he was 6'5, his limbs growing and lengthening to accommodate the needs of his new body. His legs grew first, feet growing to support the new height as his old size 8.5 quickly moved up a scale to 15, with his hands turning from smooth and small into big rough paws from all weight lifting. Suddenly, his shirt gave up, splitting to make room for his growing pecs, unable to hold them in any longer. Letting another moan as he felt air on his chest, his sensitive nipples exposed, hanging from the meaty muscles, Jin was in state of completely bliss for a moment.

Looking himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but flex. He looked good today. The pump from the gym still didn't wear off. Taking a few pictures, he admired his abs as he was rather proud of them. Fuck he was proud his entire body. All that training with the team and many hours spend in the gym paid off. Many people assumed he got academic scholarship because he was Asian, but the truth was - he was a total atlehete. Big, strong and proud.

Looking at his phone he saw a message from a twink he was talking with earlier.

lankylavander: We still up for tonight, big guy?

lankylavander: Can't wait to see you in person and touch your amazing body.

A smirk formed on Jin's face without him even realizing. Like it belonged there. The little shit was eager. And he couldn't help but wonder how will his pretty face would look after he breaks him down tonight. Honestly, all of this was too easy. The moment Jin downloaded any dating app, he found a bunch of matches in seconds. He could afford to be picky and this gut definitely had a nice ass he could fuck to release some tension before the game tomorrow.

rice&raw:Ye Im comin

rice&raw:dw bro

rice&raw:Here is smth while you wait

Jin knew what effect he had on people. He knew the little bitch will be watering from the moment he sees the pic. He could imagine his tight bussy clenching already. And he didn't have to wait long to confirm how effective his picture was.

lankylavander: Omg, you look soo hot! I can't wait to feel you deep inside me tonight

Immediately Jins dick twitched. The guy had a good ass. Round and smooth, he couldn't wait to play with it like a dought before fucking him. Feeling himself through the shorts, Jin felt a small dissatisfaction as his 4-inch member came to life. If only he were more well-endowed. Now, 4 inches wasn't exactly small... But the guy like him should be more hung. Many of his dates were disappointed when he took off his shorts. But it was something he couldn't change...

Suddenly, he got another notification from that stupid app.

"A Good Top needs a big dick to satisfy his bottom. And you have a pretty big dick. Your confidence doesn't come from nowhere, you know you are big all over. Is there anything better than being a new standard setter?"

The warm feeling returned, only this time it was localized in only one part of his body - his dick. Jin could feel it swelling larger as the front porch of his underwear started to swell. Feeling his joy and pride rise to life, there was an obvious imprint against the front of his underwear. Reaching down with his mitten of a hand to adjust it, Jin stopped for a moment, phone still in his hand as he took another picture, before readjusting his dick. The 9-inch shaft now stood proud, a big mushroom head above the underwear and next to his belly button, as Jin casually stroked it while texting, as he leaked a bit of pre over his abs

rice&raw: I hope you can handle me

The lil bitch knew exactly what he was doing with that pic. And Jin couldn't wait to come over and shove his entire dick into them. Probably more than anyone else gave them or will give them. The stereotype about Asian's not being hung? Well Jin certainly didn't fit the stereotype, if anything he went against it. He loved when they struggled to swallow him, chocking as they tried to deep throat him. He could already imagine this fucker on his knees as his tight throat with tears of his eyes, filled with pain and pleasure he never knew.

After a shower, Jin got himself ready, putting on some tank top and jeans as he headed towards little guy's flat. He didn't dress particularly well because... Why should he? Not like they would stay on for very long anyway. Knocking onto apartments door, a short guy, not more than 5'9 opened the door. "Lankylavander?" Jin said, deep baritone voice coming out of his mouth.

"You can call me Noah..." He replied leading the way in. After a confirmation, he got in, ready to enjoy himself before he got a notification. Stupid app-

"A Good Top is doesn't need to think too much. That's reserved for bottoms. A Good Top has that cocky attitude and carefree nature, going through life without thinking. The only thing you worry about it who will milk and drain your balls today since they needed to be emptied quite frequently. It's eat, lift and fuck bro"

Just as he read it, Jin could feel his intelligence draining away, any remaining part of his old self drifting away. The new emptiness felt nice. His head felt hollow but who needed smarts when he did thinking with his other head anyway. All that was left were things he needed the most - how to eat, lift, and fuck. And honestly, who needed more bro?

Turning towards little guy's whose name he didn't remember, Jin smirked. "So like, where is your bedroom bro?" He asked putting his phone away. The annoying appdidn't work at all. But then again, how could he becomes more perfect than he already was? Heh.

Now hopefully this bitch knew how to handle a real men.

"Oh, let's just take a pic for snap before we continue " Noah said with hunger in his eyes. He couldn't believe what a hunk he scored... Tonight was really his lucky day

"You want to show me off? Sure broski, here" he said standing in front of Noah, arms flexed. His dick was already getting hard from the size difference and as little guy took photos, Jin's body completely hid Noah as his dick brushed again smaller guys stomach. "You are like, so small" Jin added, moving his hands onto Noah's waist "I wouldn't want to break you tonight" that was a lie, he definitely would.

Noah’s breath hitched as Jin’s massive hand slid possessively across his waist, the heat of his palm searing through the thin cotton. His own fingers trembled not from fear, but from the sheer size difference pressing against his stomach. The tip of Jin’s cock stood up and next to his abs, already leaking, as it smeared pre onto his abs. Noah’s knees nearly buckled when Jin bent slightly, his forearm muscles bulging as he gripped the back of Noah’s neck, pulling him into a rough kiss. Jin's tongue found, or rather forced its way into the little guy's mouth, conquering it with ease as they kissed.

"Mmf- shit" Noah gasped against those lips, his own dick straining against his pants, as his hands played with Jin's nipples. Meanwhile Jin's free hand dropped lower, fingers digging into the waistband of his jeans, yanking them down just enough to free himself completely. "Fuck, bro. You are getting me all worked up" Jin growled, his voice rougher now, deeper. He didn’t wait for a response as he carried Noah into the bed and spun him around, shoving him onto the bed face-first. The impact sent a jolt of pain up Noah's ribs, but before he could react, Jin was on top of him, his weight pinning Noah down as his cock now fully hard stood there and demanded attention.

"Gonna make you so full of me." Jin rumbled, his mouth hot against Noah’s ear, his breath ragged. The bed creaked under Jin’s weight as he shifted. Jin’s hands, rough and calloused, gripped Noah’s hips, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of his ass. Noah could feel the thick, veiny length of Jin’s cock pressing against him, the heat of it searing through the thin fabric of his boxers. Jin’s breath was hot and heavy against the back of Noah’s neck, his voice a low growl.

"You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you? Otherwise I won't be very happy broski" Jin murmured, his fingers hooking into the waistband of Noah’s boxers and yanking them down in one swift motion. The cool air hit Noah’s exposed skin, making him shiver, but it was nothing compared to the way Jin’s cock twitched against his ass, the tip already slick with pre cum. Jin didn’t wait for an answer. He spat into his palm, the wet sound obscene in the quiet room, and then his fingers were there, rubbing the saliva into Noah’s entrance, stretching him open with a rough, insistent pressure. "Look at your hole, already clenching. It's hungry."

Noah gasped, his fingers clawing at the sheets as Jin’s thick fingers pushed inside him, the burn sharp and sudden. "Fuck! This feels amazing- You are so good at this" Noah hissed, his body tensing, but Jin didn’t stop. He worked him open with brutal efficiency, his fingers scissoring, stretching, preparing him for what was to come. Noah could feel the way his own body was responding, his cock aching, his hole clenching around Jin’s fingers, desperate for more.

"That’s it "Jin growled, his voice thick with lust. "You are ready for the real thing." And then his fingers were gone, replaced by the blunt, massive head of his cock.

"God, you're taking it all so well," Jin grunted, his intellect completely replaced by a primal, driving hunger for sex. He gripped Noah’s hips and with one powerful, unthinking thrust, he buried his entire length inside. Noah’s world exploded into white light, the sensation was overwhelming, a total invasion that stretched him to his absolute limit.

Jin didn't hold back, his movements becoming rhythmic, heavy, and punishing. Every lunge sent a shockwave through both of them, Jin’s giant chest muscles slapping against Noah’s back with the force of a hammer. The motion went on for quite a while, and as Jin finally reached his peak, he unloaded a massive, hot torrent deep inside Noah, before pulling his dick out. "Ready for another round?" To Noah's surprise, Jin's dick didn't deflate, if anything it seemed more hard than it was before...

And so after an eventful night and many rounds, Jin was finally satisfied as his balls were finally drained. For now. Laying in bed for a bit to rest and catch his breath before leaving after that amazing fuck, Jin heard Noah talking. "You are the best. I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow... We need more tops like you. You are a really good one."

Fuck, he really was a Good Top.

[swappingbryn]