I'm a gay guy in my early 20s, starting to get muscular, with dark curly hair. I just got back home from the gym, opened my bag to wash my gear, but... none of my stuff is here. There's only a pair of Freegun boxers. How'd they end up here? They reek... Damn, they scream straight, dumbass gym bro. I'm not sure what to do with them...
The gym bag was open on the bed.
He, a gay guy just over twenty, with dark, curly hair, still sweaty after his workout, was rummaging through it to get the clothes to wash. But there was nothing. Just a pair of boxer briefs.
They weren't his.
They were Freegun. Red. Bright red. The fabric was thick, technical, made for a real gym enthusiast.
He took them in his hands. They smelled. A strong, masculine smell, of sour sweat, of an unwashed armpit, of something animal.
He was disgusted. "That's disgusting..."
But they were there. How had they ended up in his bag? Maybe someone had accidentally mixed them up. Or maybe not.
The fabric was warm. Strange. A tingling ran through his fingers. The boxer briefs seemed to vibrate. A thought crossed his mind: Try them on.
"No, no, no..."
But his hands, as if moved by a primal instinct, began lowering his shorts. He took off the boxer briefs he was wearing. He put on the red ones.
The fabric clung to his hips like a second skin. Warm. Too warm.
Then it began.
A dense heat rose from his lower abdomen. The sweat that was already there became copious. Streams running down his back, across his chest, down his legs.
"Ah..."
A moan. His voice was getting lower.
The muscles he had started building at the gym exploded. His biceps swelled, the veins surfaced. His pectorals lifted, becoming two heavy plates. His abs became sculpted.
"Ah... fuck... yes..."
Another moan. Rougher. His jaw widened. His chin became more pronounced. His dark, curly hair began to fall. Tufts flying away. And in their place, new hair grew. Light brown. Shorter. Thicker. A simple haircut, like a real man's.
The beard appeared on his chin. Thick. Light brown. It grew before his eyes, framing his square jaw.
His body swelled. His shoulders widened, his back became a V. His thighs exploded, his buttocks lifted. And his penis. He felt his penis grow, swell, press against the red fabric. The bulge was enormous. Obscene. A package sticking out, provocative.
"Ah... AH!"
The final jolt. His whole body contracted, his muscles tensing.
Then silence.
He was still there. But he was no longer himself.
He looked at his reflection in the window. He was enormous. Huge pectorals, veiny arms, broad shoulders. Thick beard, short light-brown hair. The perfect gym-built body.
But something had changed inside.
He looked at his muscles. And he liked it. A feeling of pride, of power. "Yes... that's so fucking cool..."
He adjusted the bulge in the red boxer briefs. It was big. Too big. He smiled with satisfaction.
Then he heard a noise. An explosion. It smelled. A loud fart that broke the silence.
He laughed. "Haha, that's fucking awesome..."
He approached the mirror, flexing his biceps. The beard gave him a tough look. Like a real man.
"I'm a fucking hassle..." He muttered. His voice was hoarse, low. "The girls will go crazy."
He touched his hard, smooth chest. The smell of sweat was strong. Thick. Masculine. He liked it.
He felt his phone vibrate. A female friend. He didn't look at it. Now he was only thinking about the gym. Only about getting bigger.
"I'm not working out today... fuck yes... tomorrow I'll double it."
Another fart. It smelled. He laughed again.
The old him was gone. Now there was a rough, smelly gym bro, obsessed with muscles and girls.
"Oh, very good. Here comes Williams. Williams! Come show our guest the model you are caring for. Yes, good, turn around, let him see it all. Very nice, Williams.
Williams here is one of our more senior employees. He has great experience taking care of our acquisitions while while biddings and final sale occur. He eats right, exercises, even improves some of the models through updated grooming, skin care regimens, yoga and ballet... for flexibility and endurance.
As for the model's... we refer to them as 'original caretakers', they're kept safe in long term receptacles. Long lived, quite handsome, with skills and abilities beyond mere men. Some could even say they are superior in their receptacle forms. They reside in paradise, living a charmed life, I assure you. If you choose the model Williams is caring for, I can assure you, you may keep or occupy it for one, five, even twenty years, and the 'original caretaker' will still be available to resume their model whenever you wish to retire it or upgrade.
Yes, of course. It's an important decision with social and financial ramifications. Let's head back to the clubhouse and discuss it over dinner. I hear chef is presenting a superb arrangement tonight.
Thank you, Williams. That will be al-"
SQUAWK SQUAWK-NOT BIRD-NOT BIRD-BOY-SQUAWK-NACHO-WANT BODY BACK-SQUAWK-HELP HELP-TRAP TRICK RUN-SQUAWK
"Oh, young Mr. Penín is already mastering one of his receptacles fantastic abilities! How enterprising! This will make the next few years *ahem* fly right by if he can continue to progress. Ah, young sir, it's no use. All of our guests know exactly what is going on here. You'll find your conversational skills falling on deaf ears. Williams, give him a nice large walnut for his accomplishment today. Perhaps he'll even be gliding soon."
A/N: Exactly what it says on the tin can. Also if you know me, and you can deduce form this title, you probably know what the next one is.
“Dustin what the fuck!” I shouted walking into my room, seeing my younger brother on my bed in my boxer briefs.
“Oh, hey bro,” He sat up slightly after having enjoyed a nap in my space completely unbothered. There was something in his cadence that annoyed me, the fact it was my cadence. My attitude, my brain, He even looked as old as me. His body had co-opted all my hard work and given him the muscles and height it took years to achieve, all because he put on my underwear.
The worst thing about it? It was hard to stay angry seeing the fat ass I had given him. And fuck if his balls didn’t look as full as mine laying there, legs spread open.
“Don’t ‘hey bro’ me,” I replied. He even had on my dress socks. He knew I only had one pair of those for job interviews. “I knew you took my underwear this morning! I had my whole outfit planned out.”
“I assume that means you didn’t get the job.” he stated
Rolling my eyes, I did air quotes “Oh ‘assume’, look at you using big words from me.”
“Look bro, regardless of what you were wearing or not. If they didn't give you the job it wasn't meant to be.”
He was using my own reasoning against me. How many times had I said that to friends to calm them down? Well guess what, my words weren’t working on me. “So what, I sweat out my interview while you’re living large. Mom and dad thinking I’m just sleeping away in here.”
“It was a nice nap.” he laughed my laugh, but in his new deeper voice, which by the grace of the universe wasn’t a copy of mine. Small victories.
“I bet.” I spat, putting my bag on the floor.
“Look instead of being mad, let me make it up to you.” he stated.
“How do you plan to do that; you steal a job opportunity from me too?” I started pulling off my suit.
“No,” he chuckled. “Come fuck my ass, take a load off, dump a load.” He spread his legs wider, that perfect rump on display. Offering my ass and cock was a specialty of mine, never something I thought my brother would pick up from me. But honestly after the shit day I had I needed it. Pulling off my tie I climbed into the bed behind him. After stealing my shit, he was going to be taking more than a load.
—
Eric Chang had no idea putting on his brother's jockstrap would feel so good. The undergarment had been strangely abandoned in the center of his room. His older brother, Quay, had once been a studious academic under his parents roof, but 4 years at college had turned him into a complete musclehead. Sometimes Eric would almost forget they used to share a room, bunk beds. Until their parents demoted Quay to the guest room thinking he’d be a bad influence on Eric. Quay’s bed was out and a new desk for studying was in.
There were times Eric wanted to scream into his pillow. He had been a good student, but he was never a great student like his brother. His parents never really cared about his performance until Quay grades plummeted. Even when Quay was home, his parents couldn’t get him to care. Eric even tried to talk to him once.
“Little bro,” Quay would say with that kind smile, “You got to let Mom and Dad’s expectations go. That’s what I did, and it freed me.” His voice would say calmly as if he were a guru.
Easy for Quay to say, he was away at college. He didn’t have mom and dad watching him like a hawk. So how did that lead to Quay just dropping trou, stepping out of his jockstrap and walking out the room bare ass naked? But Eric wasn’t focused on him, only the garments he had slipped out of. He couldn’t look away. He wanted to put them on. HAD to put them on. Walking over in a trance-like state, he disrobed and got his brother’s jockstrap.
The moment it was on, his body was completely different. The height came first as his body bulked with muscle. His pecs pressed out with a clear division between them. He never put his older brother’s clothes on; they simply appeared on his body. Eric went from student to pure jock in record time. Chewing on Quay’s tank, he tasted his older brother’s sweat, as his ass stretched the jock strap. Veins ran across feeding his muscle into an even more disciplined version than his brother.
Quay knocked back on the door, walking in when he heard the moaning. Their lips were soon on each other. The Changs would be disappointed to learn their dreams for another son were once again dashed to chase balls, in various forms.
—
[APOLOGIES, THIS IMAGE HAD TO BE REMOVED TO NOT GET THIS POST FLAGGED, visit the website, or use your imagination]
“Hahaha, won’t go down, will it?” Lenny laughed. The bet was simple, have Blake wear his underwear, after complaining about Lenny’s constant boners. Lenny was too used to college life and just constantly rocking them out in the open. His little brother wasn’t having it though. He didn’t believe Lenny’s “It just happens” excuse. Blake was so smug, in the way most younger brothers were. He wasn't prepared for the rush of Lenny’s hormones into his system, when he got those American Eagle’s on.
Blake got hotter, taller, but he also got hornier, pitching a tent every which way he turned.
“That’s what having a real dong is like bro, you get lost in it.”
“But it’s just there, and so needy. I NEED TO FUCK SOMETHING, bro!” Blake’s cock throbbed with each word. “How do you do anything with this in between your legs?”
“Ehh, sports help. You can thank me for the body later—mass looks good on you—it’ll be great when you start signing up with me at my university." Lenny lay comfortably on his bed, watching as Blake stared down at his new boner. The older brother had to stifle a laugh, not mocking him, but it was kind of adorable how lost Blake looked in Lenny’s underwear. “And when you’re not practicing, a lot of the guys will be willing to help you clear your head, if you catch my drift.”
“Okay, but what do I do with it NOW!” Blake asked, “I’m not even going to be able to go to class without thinking about slipping it into someone.”
“Stop being dramatic, dude.” Lenny sat up, fully facing his brother. He pointed to Blake’s dick, “That’s your new North star, courtesy of me. And if it’s giving too much trouble, you should let it lead the way.” Blake looked down at his boner, then followed to where it pointed to Lenny on the bed. A knowing smile, Lenny beckoned his brother closer with a finger. Blake slowly walked until he stood over Lenny’s lap. Yanking the boxer’s down, Lenny let Blake’s cock spring out, then grabbed at his younger brother’s ass. A powerful shove from behind, Blake’s cock disappeared into Lenny’s throat.
Blake writhed and drooled over the foreign sensation. Following his big brother’s embedded instincts, Blake placed his hands on the back of Lenny’s head. The two found a pace with Lenny setting the lead, until he wasn’t. A switch went off in Blake and his body took over, shoving Lenny down on his cock, skull fucking his big bro, until his cock christened Lenny’s throat with heavy cream all gulped down. Blake’s cock fell out of Lenny’s mouth, defeated and coated in saliva. Finally, he could think again. All horny thoughts catapulted down into his brother’s stomach, for now.
Then Lenny wrapped his hand around his brother’s waist and pulled them both back into the bed, then flipped on top of him. “Now, it’s time I follow my north star.” Lenny smirked with the heat of his dick stuck between their two bodies and only growing warmer.
—
Okay, Tyler don’t freak out. Sure, you took your big brother's underwear. He’s a marathon biker and was out at the time. BUT how would you know that it’d make you grow? It was hard peddling down the street as your small body began to press against your clothes. Was it your shirt or shorts that vanished first? You can’t remember. What was easy to remember was your longer legs, jumbling up the vehicle making it hard to maneuver. Adjusting your posture, to keep momentum and not crash, your spine snapped straighter. Poor Tyler, you didn’t even know your butt was blowing up, swallowing up the seat.
When the bike changed, that was more concerning. The entire design lost its electric blue for a slate-gray, as the front pulled forward. The wheels got thinner as their radius expanded. That’s when your shirt popped off as your chest came into fruition. Oh, you could barely see over those tits as you went on. Why couldn’t you stop? Maybe it was your ass thrusting you higher in the air, generating more power, pushing your journey further.
Come on Tyler, your short’s split and your brother’s underwear was out. Your secret was exposed, no one was looking, but the whole world could see if they wanted to. That’s when your face changed, jaw sharpening as your throat reformed to hit a new register. Then came the bulge, your cock had never protruded in that way before, but your brother’s did. The tattoo on your legs, the chain around your neck, your hat turned backwards on your head, All your brother’s style.
You finally came to a complete stop, able to get your body under control. Sitting off the dusty road’s edge was your brother looking smug, knowing what you’d done. Realization hit hard. From the moment you picked up his underwear, your inner monologue was his voice. MY VOICE.
Heh, didn’t think you had it in you little bro: To steal my shit. Did you enjoy having me in your head? That bulge in my underwear sure looks like you did.
Now get over here so I can get a closer look.
—
“Let’s get this clear Ty, I didn’t tell you to do shit,” Jeremiah stated. Two black men were currently in Jeremiah’s room where only one had existed second’s prior. Jeremiah was standing up looking over to what should have been his younger brother in the gaming chair.
“I know,” Ty rubbed the back of his head,” But all the cool stuff is in your room.” He spoke with a voice far deeper than he had ever possessed. His body was immaculate plucked from Jeremiah's wettest dream. Never in his life would he ever think he’d have such an effect on his younger brother. His sibling had been turned into a man in every aspect, the facial hair, the pecs, eight abs. More importantly Jeremiahs compression shorts that Ty was wearing were the real star. Thick, skull crushing thighs and a fat ass being sat upon, appetizers too the long cock very visible.
Jeremiah looked good in his compression shorts, but Ty had made the damn things his bitch. It was surprising the thin material hadn’t given up like the rest of Ty’s clothes. Ty knew better than to sneak into his brother’s room. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jeremiah who had banned Ty from his room, rather than their dad.
His words being to them both, “Look Jeremiah’s like me. He’s a whole lotta man, it’s hard not to be influenced by him. He needs his own space.” At the time Jeremiah just thought that was his dad’s way of saying he needed to wear deodorant. But now it seemed his dad actually had a point in keeping Ty out. It was like Jeremiah’s Compression shorts channeled his testosterone directly into his brother. And holy fuck did his brother look more potent than him.
“Ugh, Dad’s gonna kill me,” Jeremiah dragged his hands down his face.
“Yeah maybe.” Ty responded in Jeremiah’s laid-back type-tone, no care whatsoever.
“He’s probably going to kill you too.” the words were said to get a specific reaction out of his brother that never came.
“Well then, he’ll kill us when he gets us. But no use in just wasting time. I gotta drain my balls and I bet you do too. Might as well stroke it out.”
Jeremiah shook his head, Ty got his horniness too, but if they were in trouble any way…draining his balls now with a stud was as good of a time as any.
—
Jordan stole Randall’s boxers out of the washing machine. It was early morning and no one else was going to know. Randall, his older brother, had moved back in with the family after college, and Jordan often caught a glimpse of the boxers. Mysterious things. And now here he was, having slipped them on looser and freer than the briefs, their mom condemned Jordan too. The novelty only lasted a moment as a surge erupted inside of Jordan. His body shook and the house shook with him. Jordan couldn’t utter a single word as his bones snapped and popped. His height was soaring, body changing.
No one came rushing downstairs, despite all the commotion. Only Jordan saw his action figures, scattered across the living room, get shaken out of existence, fading into nothing as various dumbbells replaced them. His shoes by the door stretched, mouths widening as Jordan’s soles expanded. The plain design was overwritten by an athletic one. They didn’t stop until they were almost indistinguishable from Randall’s in size. In the end, two sets of tennis sat next to each other. On the coat rack, Jordan’s coat morphed as the heat in his chest encouraged it to. His traps shoved his shoulders aside so that his chest could pump up. As pecs rose to prominence, abs formed following their example. A healthy dose of muscle mass was forced into his arms and legs, earning him jock proportions. His new coat hung, slim, stylish, and large.
A change erupted across every family picture as the still images of Jordan went through the same transformation. The integrity of Jordan's face gave way as his bone structure removed all fat, accentuating its own features for an older look. His mop of curly hair whipped up and reformed itself into a trendier look, trimmed on the sides, curls kept at the top and front. A cut reminiscent of Randall’s sensibilities. Meanwhile, the photos stamped Jordan’s new face into their ink, solidifying it in reality. Jordan stumbled back, body hitting the counter with force. The house's shaking finally stopped.
As Jordan looked down at himself, he saw not only his brother’s boxers, but Randall’s chain and socks as well. Well, they were brothers. Twins even. It wasn't odd for them to borrow each other’s stuff. He had snuck down here to have something to wear. Right? Maybe more curious was the boner Jordan was getting. Pitching a tent in his big bro’s underwear? He didn’t usually go around popping boners. Actually, he couldn’t even recall the last time he did. Oh well, maybe his brother would have some answers, once Jordan woke him up. Randall had always loved Jordan’s cock up his ass for a morning rise.
—
Wesley was shocked when he stepped into his bathroom, and found his little brother, Milton, wearing his socks and red Hanes boxers. It was supposed to be Wesley’s private area hence the half-naked man on the wall by the toilet. He finally had his own place, and a private bathroom even his parents couldn’t see. Why did he allow his brother to come visit him?
“Personal space much?” Wesley stated, trying to downplay it. He scratched his head; there was something off about Milton. Not the stance: One leg bent up on the tub, the other still on the floor, arms crossed. Milton was always trying to show off. A good pose considering all the muscle he was packing. His biceps looked extra nice. Maybe that was it, had he filled out, bulked more…nah Milton had always been big. Then again, had he? Wasn’t he visiting during semester break—
“What’s this about?” Milton nodded his head back to the photo.
“It’s a guy.” Wesley shrugged, not dealing with this.
“Yeah, no shit it’s a guy. Why’s it in your bathroom?” Milton asked.
“Why do you think?” Wesley shot back. “Here’s a better question, why are you? And why are you wearing my clothes?”
Milton looked down at himself, confused. “I am?” he looked around, “Did your bathroom get smaller?”
“No.” Wesley sighed, “Must have been all the weed you’ve been smoking on tour. “I see you got another tat,” He pointed to Milton’s arms covered in a respectable smattering of tattoos.
“Hey, first of all, it’s hard being a rockstar. Secondly, I haven’t smoked since the last time I was here. Thirdly, tatts look cool.”
“You haven’t, why not?”
“Don’t know, I think my big brother said something about liking my natural smell last time? So, when the band came into town I figured I’d use my spare key to sneak in. Thought it’d be nice to put something of yours on.”
“And?”
“And I was right; your shit is comfortable as hell.” He leaned forward on his bent leg.
Wesley smirked, strolling into his bathroom and kissing Milton, until his younger brother’s cock begged to be freed. Reaching into the waistband, Wesley stroked it. How long had the two been seeing each other like this? Had to be years at this point. Honestly, Wesley couldn't quite remember how it started, perhaps catching his brother in his underwear even back then. Milton looked up to the then-punk teen so maybe it was fate, Milton would start working out and form a rock band. Now, he toured all over the country but always made stops at his brother’s city.
“I want that guy gone.” Milton said between kisses, “Then I’ll fuck you.”
“Fine.” Wesley relented, “But I will be putting a picture of you up there.”
“Good. Should have done that in the first place.” Milton growled with pleasure as his brother continued jerking him off.
—
Santiago, are you happy now?
Why did you take the underwear? Was it just because of the design on it? Who are you kidding, of course that’s the reason. They weren’t boxers or even boxer-briefs. They were FULL ON BRIEFS. What was your older brother doing rocking briefs? When did he wear them? Why did he wear them?
If anyone in the house deserved to wear briefs, it was you! So, snatching them up wasn’t stealing, it was justice. You slipped them on in the living room. The warmth was unbearable and it started all at your crotch. It bulged like a lump, right over Batman’s body as your glutes swelled in the back. Next it was your legs, sending you higher in the air as hair began to poke over them. Thighs expanding, calves bulking, feet extending. It looked like your brother’s legs were attached to you. Pecs rushed out of your chest, spilling into the air with dark nipples. Your shoulders were titanic, compared to before and spread wide. Arms that looked more appropriate on a warrior found themselves attached to you, biceps and forearms ready. Your face was the last to go, stubble rising over your lower jaw, eyebrows growing bushier. When your head elongated as your jaw lengthened. Did it feel good? How about when your hair reshaped into your brother’s proper style, dark strands brushed down perfectly.
Then it was done. Was wearing your brother's briefs everything you hoped it would be? You were as old as him, standing in his underwear. Felt awesome to stroke your cock as memories rushed into your head, matching you to your body. Of course, your legs shook when you came, as your new balls shot their first load into your brother’s undies. Thank god the windows were close, or the whole neighborhood would have heard you. Was your orgasm earth-shattering?
Your brother found you. ‘Found’ wasn't the right word. He was the only one home to hear the moan you let out. A moan that sounded eerily similar to his yet had not left his mouth. He came downstairs to find you Santiago, still spewing ropes into his underwear.
That led to this interrogation: you hiked up on a chair, defiant with all of your older brother’s confidence. No conscious awareness of what you were putting on display for him. Was it the third or fourth time his eyes homed in on your package, that little Santiago started responding to the attention. Now Santiago, you knew exactly what you were doing when you thrusted your hips forward. Your package jiggled and more of your ass was on display. Whatever speech your brother had been giving you, stopped completely. He knew what you were offering for him to shut the fuck up. And he was going to take it.
Oh Santiago, you’re very happy now, aren’t you?
—
Hayden snapped the photo for proof, texting it directly to his friend. “Dude, I’m fucking telling you this is Bennett. My lil bro put on my underwear, I think our dad mixed them up? and turned into a fucking Adonis in his own right.”
Smith’s reply was quick, “Wait, so you still wear tighty-whities no wonder your dad mixed them up 😛.”
“Be so fucking for real right now bro, briefs give me the best support. Not that I’d expect you to understand needing that.” Hayden typed back, moaning.
“Ouch, you've wounded me 😂. But come on, I can tell that’s you. Like you even forgot to take your socks off. And as if I wouldn’t know that ass and bulge outside of the locker room. Don’t know why you’d AI an older version of Bennett’s face on it though? Your face is (mostly) hot enough.” Smith’s joking voice was radiating through the electronic message.
Hayden sighed, fingers working, as he adjusted his seating “Look, I get that he kinda resembles me. Like those are my pecs and abs sitting on his body, my height that he’s strolling around the house in. But underneath that, it’s still him. He put my socks on because he likes them. He even got his morning OJ. When’s the last time you’ve seen me drink OJ? Never!”
“Are you bragging about being vitamin C deficient? 💀 Weird flex, but okay.” Smith’s phone was still typing then sent, “So your briefs made your brother older? Okay I’ll bite, how’s he adjusting?”
Thrusting his hips excitedly, Hayden responded. Finally, he could talk about the weirdness of that morning with someone. “That’s the thing, Bennett’s fine. He wants to be called Ben now. He’s even listed on our university’s swimming team. Right between men and you, but like no one remembers him.”
“Holy shit so your underwear recruited your little bro, That’s kind of awesome! What are you going to do now?”
“Don’t know. Maybe I can start selling my underwear on eBay or something? People might pay good money to have their sons turn into athletes.” Hayden took a hand off the phone, running it through hair.
“Idiot, I’m talking about your bro, not your wallet. I mean even if the coach accepts him on the team, he has to do initiation. The team isn’t going to go easy on him, especially looking like that.”
“What do you think I’m doing, dumbass.” Hayden smugly replied.
“You fucker.”
Hayden leaned over to toss his phone on the dining room table. He was seated far from its edge and in between the gap of his chair and the table was Ben on all fours sucking his cock. After downing his orange juice, Ben immediately began to service Hayden. A common practice of the swim team at his college. Their team building ritual where a senior like Hayden expected underclassmen to clamor for his cock. Have your teammates’ kids swimming inside you, while you cut through the water. He never thought his younger brother would be the one doing it. Or that Ben would know exactly what made Hayden’s cock hard. Ben gargled Hayden’s balls, huffed his blond pubes, then would just swallow his dick in one motion. He had acquired Hayden’s deep throating skills.
It was so damn good, it felt like an edge session. Hayden wanted it to last but also wanted to blow. A master in his own right, Ben won his older brother’s cum. Hayen’s cock spewed endlessly as he reached his crescendo. Creamy brotherly ropes shot across Ben’s tongue and down his throat. Ben sucked slower, coaxing more of his nephews out of his brother's cock. When the dick was dead, fat as fuck but limp, Ben let it drop out of his mouth and slap against Hayden’s thigh.
“Looks like you saw heaven bro,” Ben laughed down on the ground, looking up at Hayden wrecked.
“I didn’t…know you kept… heaven in your mouth.” Hayden said, catching his breath between words.
“Heh, maybe I have what it takes after all.” Ben flipped his hair out of his eyes.
Hayden’s eyes narrowed playfully, “Don’t get cocky,” He picked his brother up off the floor and sat him on the table. Leaning forward, arms locking Ben in protectively on each side, Hayden kissed his younger brother’s chest, then his neck, until their lips found each other. The taste of his jizz wasn't so bad on Bennett's lips. “That was only phase one. The guys on the team like to test personal stamina too.” Hayden gripped at his underwear on Ben and began to pull down. A cock as beautiful and long as Hayden's slapped Ben’s abs. Hayden was going to enjoy milking this one.
In celebration of reaching 500 subscribers, I thought I'd do a bit of a longer story, even though they don't get as much attention. This was a draft I did last year that kind of got out of hand but I think it ended up turning out pretty well. Thanks again and I hope you enjoy :)
Thanks for the muscles mum! Jordi said as he bent down and kissed his mother Beth on the cheek. Jordi had just won his first bodybuilding competition and was feeling on top of the world. He had blown the competition out of the water with his superior size, symmetry, and conditioning.
But Jordi wasn’t always like this. Growing up he was just like most other boys, with cute, boyish features that mothers like Beth find so adorable. But as other boys his age hit puberty and began to grow into men, Jordi stayed as he was. As he moved through high school, Jordi found himself increasingly socially isolated from his peers and eventually the subject of ridicule and bullying. By the time he had turned 18 during his senior year, he had developed a meek, and submissive personality, not wanting to draw attention to himself for fear of further upsetting his aggressors.
When Jordi started arriving home with bruises on his face, Beth decided enough was enough. She waited until her son was asleep before she crept up to the attic. She crawled over all the piles of junk and boxes of family memorabilia until she found an old wooden box. The box was locked, but the moment she touched it, the heavy metal lock clicked open, revealing an ancient leather-bound book that pulsed with a strange energy. Beth came from a long line of witches, and even though the practice had waned over the years, she was still known to cast the odd spell here and there. The case in point being the love spell she had placed on Jordie's father - although she must have done something wrong in that spell because he left her not long after Jordie’s birth.
The words in the book seemed to shimmer and dance as Beth flicked through the pages. There were spells that would make Jordi grow in height, spells to change his personality, and spells to make him incredibly handsome. But that wasn’t what Beth was after. She still wanted him to be her sweat littleJordi. She just wanted him to be able to stick up for himself a bit more and be comfortable in his own skin.
Beth continued to flick through the pages until a spell caught her eye. Her understanding of the ancient language of the book was rusty, but the spell appeared to reference boosting one’s inner confidence. She glanced through the complicated spell, and after getting the gist of it, she snuck downstairs. Standing over her son’s sleeping form, she muttered the incantation before sprinkling a small amount of ash in the boy's hair. A slight breeze blew through the room - a sign to Beth that the spell must have worked. She creeped out of the room leaving her boy to his dreams.
The next day at school started as a typical day for Jordi. He spent the day going from class to class, barely talking to anyone and eating his lunch in an inconspicuous place to avoid drawing attention to himself. Eventually, he came to the part of his day he was both dreading and looking forward to - gym class. Thanks to his timetable, his gym class was mostly made out of jocks from the football team. If there was one thing that would ruin your confidence, it was having to watch these paragons of athleticism compete to see who was the top dog. Today was open weights. The jocks spent their time trying to outlift each other, throwing around huge amounts of iron while Jordi quietly did some bodyweight exercises in the corner.
The showers after class were usually a nightmare of taunts and jeers from the jocks, so Jordi had learned to hide away in a toilet cubicle. Eventually, the commotion outside the stall calmed down and the locker room became still. Jordi cracked open the door of the cubical just as he heard the sound of running water begin once again. He peered through the haze of steam into the shower block to see a lone figure against the back wall. Jordi watched from afar, taking in every inch of the figure's colossal physique. Trent was the star linebacker of the football team. While puberty had passed Jordi by, it had hit Trent like a freight train. His massive 6 foot 5 frame easily made him the tallest member on the team by a few inches, causing the coach to request a special higher shower nozzle to be installed just for him.
The warm water cascaded over his powerful physique. It didn’t seem possible that an 18-year-old could have such mature musculature. His back and lats flared as he reached to soap his solid glutes. Trent turned towards Jordi, his big beefy pecs bouncing as he soaped them, his swollen arms bending and flexing with the gentle movements. While his core lacked the insane definition that some jocks had, it was solid and powerful. Jordi’s gaze dropped down to Trent’s monster cock. Even now in its flaccid state, it had to be at least 8 inches long and as thick as Jordi's wrist.
“I see the little mouse is back again,” a deep baritone voice growled, snapping Jordi back to attention. Trent was staring directly at Jordi with a wide grin on his face. “Well come on then, you know the drill,” he said as he pumped his shaft a few times with one of his large sinewy hands. Jordi wasted no time shucking his gym gear as he entered the showers. As he approached the larger man, Trent’s strokes began to get longer and more sensual as his member began to approach full mast. As a shower rather than a grower, his cock only grew around an inch or so in length but it became impossibly thicker and girthier.
Jordi reached his hands towards the monster cock in front of him, before he found himself being pushed away. “Beg for it little mouse”, Trent growled as he pushed Jordi to one knee. “Please let me suck your cock”, Jordi pleaded, his eyes locked on the dick in front of him. Smack, Jordi winced as Trent slapped his meaty cock against Jordi’s cheek. “Not good enough little mouse”, Trent berated. Jordi looked up into Trent’s eyes, “Please sir, let me worship your cock”, Jordi said, tears in his eyes as his hand rubbed the stinging red patch on his cheek where the dick had hit him. He looked truly pathetic. Trent smiled and placed his hands on the back of Jordi’s head, guiding the smaller boy towards his waiting cock.
As Jordi’s mouth wrapped its way around his throbbing cock, Trent threw his head back in ecstasy. The little dude was normally a good cock sucker with his tight mouth and soft lips but this time was truly wild. Jordi devoured the cock in front of him, forcing as much of the meat stick into his mouth as he could as it rammed the back of his throat. As he choked and spluttered, he felt a strange feeling grow inside of him. A feeling of confidence. Newly emboldened, he did something he'd never done before. He began to fondle his significantly smaller cock with one of his hands as he pleasured the beast that was towering over him.
Little did the two men know, the spell was going haywire. The sheer magnitude of the emasculation that Jordi was experiencing, combined with Jordi’s willingness to be dominated in such a fashion was stretching the magic to its limits. If it had been cast by a more experienced witch, it may have held, but the unstable magic eventually burst from the confines that Beth had placed on it.
The primal force had the single drive - to boost Jordi’s confidence to balance out this perceived humiliation. But as it was only intended to provide a small boost, the spell didn’t have the energy to perform its directive. It rushed through the room looking for a source of energy before it settled on a bountiful source - Trent. The magic flowed through Trent, analysing the very core of his being before it found what it was searching for. The source of Trent’s confidence was his superior masculinity. This was the potent source that the spell needed to complete its mission.
The spell settled in Trent’s balls where it began to strip Trent of his bountiful virility. The mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through his veins was too much for Trent. He let loose a deep growl as he began to cum the biggest load of his life. Jordi choked and gagged as a massive volley of cum shot out of the huge cock inside his mouth. As Trent’s cock continued to spew cum, his balls began to shrink and shrivel.
As Jordi took volley after volley of Trent's seed, the spell ensured that he also drained Trent of the raw masculinity that made him the titan that he was today. Jordi’s small testicles began to swell in size, sending a cocktail of hormones throughout his body. An inherent sense of confidence began to build inside him as he began to suck the rest of the potent liquid out of Trent’s cock.
Trent’s testicles continued shrinking to the size of small grapes. The ecstasy that Trent was feeling was too much and the jock blacked out and crashed to the floor. Riding his sudden wave of confidence, Jordi stood up and jacked his small dick a few times, before sending several thick loads of cum all over the unconscious jock. Jordi had never cummed before, and the sheer volume and viscosity of this load surprised him. He looked down at the jock drenched in his seed. “Pathetic”, Jordi said as he spat on the spent athlete before turning to leave the showers.
From that day, Jordi’s life began to change. Just as he finished high school, Jordi began to undergo a huge growth spurt that continued throughout the summer until he started college standing at just over 6’5. Throughout his first year, he packed on a serious amount of mass, his muscles growing thick and strong. Throughout his first year, he packed on a serious amount of mass, his muscles growing thick and strong. He thrived at every physical pursuit he put his mind to, even beating out the senior men.
He garnered a serious amount of attention from his classmates of both sexes, quickly becoming a popular member of the student body. He was invited to all the hottest parties where people clamored to hang out with him, in the vein hope that some of his majesty would rub off on them. He stood head and shoulders above the other guys in his classes, even his fellow jocks who looked up to him in reverence. As such he commanded absolute authority and he always got first dibs on which lucky girl he'd decide to take home. He was even know to bed the girlfriends of those in his crew, sometimes several at once, just to remind the smaller men who was the alpha. When he was done with them, they'd return to their boyfriends wishing that their pricks would stretch them the same way that Jordi's monster had.
In his final year of college, Jordi discovered bodybuilding. His body responded to the more intense workout routine and strict diet by packing on pound after pound of shredded muscle onto his also large frame. His hulking physique commanded attention as no one else in his college could. Those who were lucky enough to spend a night with Jordi recounted stories of animalistic sex drive and tales of limping home the next day after a night riding his legendary cock.
Shortly after graduation, Jordi was ready to enter his first show. His conditioning and definition were both so insane that the judges practically gave him the win the moment he stepped foot on stage. A few of the other competitors wanted to give up once they saw his phenomenal form, but Jordi pressured them to stay on the stage as their comparatively small physiques further added to the majesty of his own.
Jordi was fizzing after winning the contest. He had kissed his mum goodbye at the contest venue and had climbed into his Jeep. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, savouring the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The rush he felt from dominating those other bodybuilders who were in the best conditioning of their lives was absolutely intoxicating. And in his hometown no less. His hand slipped into his shorts, massaging the kinks out of his engorged package. It had taken so much self-control to not get a raging hard-on right there on the stage as the lesser men had shied away posing next to his dominating form. He bit his lip and composed himself. A self-worship session would need to wait.
He started his jeep and drove over to his hometown’s gym. He had never worked out there in his youth, being too weak and feeble to ever dream of setting foot in the door. But now that he was a god among men, he saw it as a personal victory to walk through the doors and let everyone witness the beast he had become.
‘Excuse me, sir, can I please see your membership card?’ a slender man called from behind the sign-in counter as Jordie confidently strode into the gym. Jordi shot a menacing glare at the man, causing him to shrink away as Jordi made his way over to the free weights. Jordi spent the next few hours working out his huge muscles until his body was swollen and drenched with glistening sweat. The other gym patrons had long since left, either to avoid the behemoth's loud grunts as he heaved double the weight they could ever dream of or to furiously masturbate in their cars as they pictured his impressive form.
At the end of his workout, Jordi made his way into the locker room, where he proceeded to get undressed. His hulking torso seemed to swell even bigger as he peeled off his shirt, his bronzed form on full display like some sort of work of art. He dropped his shorts revealing his monstrous cock and balls as he made his way into the back of the showers, his heavy footsteps thudding on the damp floor and his oversized cock swinging between his bulging quads.
Jordi turned on the faucet, and a hot stream of water began to pour over his hulking form. He smiled to himself, the facet came up to just below his chin. They really should install higher ones for towering individuals like himself. His calloused hands proceeded to roam his swollen muscles, cleaning the potent sweat and fake tan off his skin.
Jordi heard someone clearing their throat behind him. “Excuse me, sir, gym facilities are for paying members only,” a high-pitched voice croaked. Jordi turned his head to find the slender employee from earlier. Jordi smiled to himself. He slowly turned the rest of his body towards the smaller man, his big beefy pecs bouncing as he continued to soap them, his swollen arms bending and flexing with the gentle movements. The water cascaded down his brick-like abs, flowing like rivers through each of the deep valleys and ridges that made up his powerful midsection. Jordi noticed the smaller man's gaze travel downwards as he became mesmerised by Jordie’s monster cock. Even now in its flaccid state, it had to be at least 8 inches long and as thick as his wrist.
“I guess you’re the little mouse now Trent,” Jordi rumbled in his deep baritone. Trent’s eyes went wide. It couldn’t be that kid from gym class. Ignoring the behemoth's hulking body, he took a long look at the handsome face of the man in front of him. The bodybuilder could have been the kid's older, hotter brother. The kid that used to make suck him off after practice. He had stronger, more masculine facial features but those dazzling brown eyes were unmistakable.
Trent’s mind went back to that day in the showers when he woke on the floor covered in cum, his nuts shrivelled and tiny. His life had changed that day. It was like his confidence had vanished overnight. The other changes started small. First, his girlfriend dumped him because he couldn't get it up in bed anymore, his normal insatiable sex drive fading. Then the coach said his killer instinct had gone, and he was unceremoniously dumped from the football team.
Then the shrinking began. Each morning he woke up ever so slightly smaller. No one in his family believed him, instead, they just told him to work out more and lay off the junk food. The lingering magic clouded their memories so that they believed that he had always been at his current height.
By the end of senior year, Trent had lost a couple of inches in height and his hard muscle had become soft with fat. It even got worse when he started college. He ended up dropping out at the end of his first year after he had shrunk over a foot in height and his body was bulging with soft fat. Worst of all, his once legendary package has shrivelled down to a pencil-thin prick that matched his raisin-sized balls.
Eventually, after hitting rock bottom and returning to his hometown, he managed to salvage his life somewhat. He joined his local gym and managed to fight his genetics to lose most of his flab. There were still stubborn pockets of fat in his cheeks and butt that he couldn’t seem to shift and he never managed to put on any muscle, but it was a vast improvement over his time in college. He even managed to get a job at the gym as a weight loss coach. His life had improved, but gone was the titan that he was a few short years ago, and in his place was a twink of a man. And now, somehow he was staring up at the life he should have had.
“Jordi?” the little man stammered. “In the flesh,” the big man said as he continued to massage his swollen muscles. Trent was mesmerised by the grace and tenderness of the brute's movements as he caressed his muscles in large, arching motions, his fingers dancing along the ridges and peaks of his bulging form. Jordi caught him staring. “Yeah, I changed a bit since you last saw me”, Jordi explained as he kneaded his heavy pecs, “most people can’t get enough of the new and improved me”. The titan began to trace his fingers down his rock-hard abs. “You know I won my pro-card today - and I’ve only been bodybuilding for about a year”. “It’s like my genetics are perfectly programmed for putting on pound after pound of clean muscle at an insane rate”. Jordi put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest, giving him an impressive v-taper.
“But how? You were so small during gym class, how did you…” Trent paused mid-sentence as everything clicked in his mind. Jordi had somehow taken everything from him. His muscles. His height. His manhood. With tears in his eyes, Trent darted across the showers and started clawing at the larger man. “Give it back, give me back my body” Trent wailed with tears in his eyes, his small fists completely ineffective against the solid core of the mammoth in front of him. Jordi sniggered. His former bully couldn’t even reach past the bottom row of his abs.
Trent felt something poke him in the chest. He looked down to see Jordi’s colossal cock was level with his chest. And it was fully erect. Trent was mesmerised by the sheer size of the monster appendage.
Seeing the smaller man’s reaction to his fuck stick, Jordi reached down with one of his calloused hands and gently pulled back his foreskin exposing it’s thick mushroom head. The air was instantly filled with a pungent aroma of sweat and musk that seemed to pour out of his exposed glands.
Trent found himself salivating. He opened his mouth and slowly moved his head towards the monstrous appendage in front of him. As his tongue was just about to make contact, Trent felt himself be pushed backwards as Jordi pressed him to the floor with one of his huge size 15 feet. “I want you to beg for it little mouse,” Jordi growled at the pathetic excuse for a man in front of him. Trent looked up at the titan towering above him, marvelling at how the water was cascading down the ridges and valleys of the man's musculature. “Please let me suck your cock!” he pleaded as he pulled himself to his knees. Smack! Trent’s cheek stung as Jordi’s meaty cock smacked him across his face. “Not good enough,” Jordi said, his deep voice laden with venom.
Trent looked up at the man with wide eyes filled with tears and a thick red mark on his cheek. How the tables had turned. He mumbled something under his breath. “What was that runt?” Jordi roared, fire in his eyes. “I said, I’m glad you took my muscles!'' Trent squeaked, “ You took them from me and used them to become so much more. They were wasted on me. I would have never been able to get to the size you are. The definition you have. The god you are”. Tears were streaming down Trent's face as he kneaded Jordies colossal thighs with his small hands. “Please, let me worship you like the alpha you are,” Trent said, pleading to the large man.
A low chuckle rumbled in Jordi's chest. “You see little mouse, that’s the difference between a true alpha like me, and the wanna-be’s like you used to be,” Jordi said as flexed his powerful forearms, watching the thick chords of dance underneath the surface of his paper-thin skin. “Pretenders let people worship them,” the larger man said, his gaze beering deep into Trent’s soul. Real alpha’s make them worship. With that, Jordi grabbed the back of Trent’s head with both hands and forced him down onto his cock.
Trent’s small mouth was stretched to its limits to accommodate the sheer size of the mushroom head. Jordi began to force more of his shaft into Trent’s waiting mouth. The titan battered the smaller man’s mouth for what seemed like hours, as Trent's eyes became red and his face bruised from the battering. But throughout, Trent's tongue explored every nook and cranny of the cock that was being jackhammered into his mouth. One of Trent's hands massaged Jordi's oversized balls, while the other massaged any muscle it could get his hands on from Jordi's colossal quads to his diamond-cut abs. Eventually, he settled on using both hands to stimulate the sizable length of shaft that he simply couldn't fit into his mouth. Anything to better please the god in front of him.
With a roar, Jordi forced the head of his cock down Jordi's throat and began to cum rope after rope of thick cum straight down his gullet. Trent greedily guzzled down as much as he could until the volume being released began to leak out of the sides of his mouth and he was practically drowning in Jordi’s potent seed.
Jordi pulled his colossal member out of Trent’s mouth, causing the smaller man to cough and splutter as he tried to catch his breath. Some small part of Trent wanted him to look up and see Jordi passed out on the ground, as if he had somehow managed to suck his manhood back out of the titan’s cock. But as he slipped his hand into his cum soaked shorts, he found his all too familiar raisin-sized testicles. Instead, he looked up to see Trent still towering above him, a terrifying look of lust in his eyes, and his cock still rock hard as it oozed cum. As if in a trance, Trent turned away from the hulking man. He slowly pulled down his gym shorts, and bent over, offering his perky twink butt to the hulking titan.
Wild with lust, Jordi picked Trent up and lowered him down on his waiting cock. Trent wailed as the huge member pushed up against his virgin hole. Jordi grunted as he tried to push his way inside but he was just too huge. The remnants of the spell cast all of those years ago flared to life one last time, once again surging around the room. They flowed into Trent, changing him one last time. Jordi felt Trent’s hole relax ever so slightly. It was still an incredibly tight fit, but he managed to force his way inside. Jordi moaned as inch after inch of his cock forced it's way inside of Trent's perky bubble butt. It was so incredibly tight that it seemed like his ass was perfectly made to take his massive dick and provide him with as much pleasure as possible.
Its mission fulfilled, the magic finally dissipated and faded, leaving only Trent’s high-pitched moans and Jordi’s deep rumbling grunts as Jordi bred his former tormentor like the pathetic little mouse he was.
If you like my stories and want to support my writing, please consider shouting me a coffee over on ko-fi.
I yelled and shook the kid off me, red on my arm from where he bit me. Luckily for me his big brother had seen the whole thing, thanking me for keeping him from falling after he had tripped. My injury looked like little more than a surface scratch, despite a lot of blood, but the surfer dude insisted on getting alcohol and bandages.
They turned out to be unnecessary as it seemed the blood must have come from the boy's mouth. My arm didn't have a mark on it. You'd think that would have been the end of it, but the older boy, who introduced himself as bodhi, wanted my name and address, and kept asking me to see some special doctor he knew. I just drove away, not wanting any hippie herbal treatments, and I figured that was the last I would see of them.
I had forgotten all about the encounter, but a month later, a sudden knock startled me. Answering, I found bodhi waiting on my front porch. My sudden scowl made him step back and raise his hands. "Sorry to bother you. I tracked you down through your license plate." Considering the trouble he must have gone through to find me, I sighed and waited. When I did not invite her in, she said "My... um, lil bro. He like, startled when he started to fall and fear made him react bad to your grab."
I nodded, hoping to speed him on his merry way. The young man flushed, then said "I know it seemed like nothing, but he really did bite you. And that was your blood." At my dubious look, he continued. "You just healed super fast. It's like the infection doesn't want to be known about" He sighed. "Like a Werewolf curse." OK, he was a nutcase, probably high on weed right now too.
“Um, right. Well, I haven't tried to chase cars, but I'll keep that in mind, OK?" I started to shut the door, only to have him persist.
"Teddy isn't really my brother. He's my Gramps." That comment made me make a renewed effort to get him to leave.
"Sir, I need you to leave. Please." I could see he wanted to argue, but then shook his head.
"I'II go." I watched him return to his scrappy truck and drive away, resolving not to answer
the door to strangers for a while. At least until it started to turn dark, Trick or Treating started at 6 PM. I stepped out to check my porch light and noticed that we had a full moon. then suddenly felt dizzy and nauseous.
I grabbed the side of the house and then staggered into the yard, expecting to throw up. As I did, my jeans cut off at my knees, the excess Dinum dropping to my ankles, making me nearly fall over. The sick feeling passed, leaving me bewildered by the sudden cool breeze on my chest, which was somehow now bare?
I stared as I lifted each leg, easily pulling free of the pooled up fabric of my pants. Muscular, hairless legs and smooth bronze skin. They looked like they had spent countless hours in full sun. My (also tan) hands jerked up to feel a hairless chiseled face, long blonde hair hanging in my eyes, just like… "Dude." I recoiled from the deep slow voice, which I remembered from earlier that day. Turning, I saw Bodhi looking at me with a sad smile.
"There was always a chance that you would be immune, or there wouldn't be enough change for you to notice much." He remained where he was, hands by his sides. "But it looks like you got hit full force. As far as I can tell, you are just like anyone else hit with the surf wave" I looked at my arms, biceps bigger than my head used to be and then up at the night sky.
"Am I going to turn into a monster?" I asked, my voice cracking like I’m going through puberty.
He shook his head beneath his green hoodie. "You aren't a werewolf. And you won't change again." That last was said with such finality that I looked back at him, puzzled.
The surfer sighed. "Lil dude is only contagious during the full moon. He was hit with a weird variant of the wave, cursed to always be a little surfer boy instead of a young adult. None of us can figure it out. I knew I should have kept him home, but even though he misbehaves a lot, he's never bitten anyone in all the months since he changed. Until you."
I stared, comprehension dawning. "But that means..." He
nodded. "Grandpas was like 80 years old, and now he’s 12 years old. His mind is that of the child too, now memories of his past life. And, I'm afraid, you will be joining him in that
too." I wanted to deny this, but even as he spoke I realized I couldn't remember half of my life.
He held out a hand. "I'm sorry, we don’t normally transform those who don’t truly need to be something else. But at least you won't be alone, there’s a lot of us now. You, me, and the lil guy are related too it seems. And with me and him as brothers, that will at least be easier than being alone."
I stare at his outstretched hand and then back at a house I can't even remember living in anymore. Then I slap his palm in a dab up and let him lead me toward towards the truck he shares with me. I am confused, the past fading and new stuff filling in the gaps, but not sad. Actually, I am getting excited to meet new friends I have never met before, and a lil bro. Even if he was the one who turned me into a were-surfer.
(The first of summerween, the others are written and ready to go, a first for me, and will be dropped in the following weeks. Enjoy this sunny spooky story that kickstarted this whole series!)
Not quite sure where I was going with this one. It's not by best work, but I'm kinda done looking at it so just putting it out into the world.
The morning sun spilled through the wide kitchen windows, bathing the room in a warm golden glow. Jake stood at the stove, wearing nothing but a pair of tight cotton boxer briefs that hugged his muscular thighs and accentuated his perky muscle butt. His wide back flexed with every flip of the spatula as he cooked a breakfast of protein pancakes and eggs, their aroma mingling with the rich scent of brewing coffee. It was a morning ritual, this display of his physique, and he knew Emily loved it.
Emily, petite and glowing with her hair swept into a tight bun, walked into the kitchen as she adjusted her work outfit. Her eyes locked onto Jake’s broad, powerful form, and a mischievous grin spread across her face. She crept up behind him and, with a playful giggle, grabbed his ass, giving it a firm, teasing squeeze.
Jake didn’t flinch, instead releasing a low chuckle. “Well, good morning to you, too, gorgeous.”
Emily pressed herself against the ridges of his back, her arms snaking around his waist as she inhaled his familiar musk. “Can you blame me? You’re practically begging for it, standing there looking like that.”
He set the spatula down and spun around, his blue eyes glinting with flirtatious intent. “Oh, you think so?” In one fluid motion, he scooped her up with his big hands, gripping her ass firmly as she instinctively draped her legs over either side of his torso. She let out a delighted squeal, her arms looping around his neck to steady herself.
“Don’t drop me, you big oaf,” she teased, her voice breathy with laughter.
“Never,” he murmured, leaning in to steal a playful morning kiss. Their lips met, the kiss lingering as his fingers dug into her curves, pulling her closer. Emily let out a longing sigh as her hands slid up to tangle in his hair, and for a moment, the kitchen faded away. It was just the two of them, lost in their perfect little world.
By the time they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Jake grinned and set Emily down gently on the counter. “If I wasn’t about to burn breakfast, I’d be doing filthy things to you right now,” he said, his deep voice a sultry rumble in his chest.
Emily smirked, hopping off the counter with a playful swat to his chest. “Food first, caveman. You need to build your strength up after what we got up to last night.” Jake brought one of his hulking arms up and flexed his bicep, the swollen muscle peak exploding with size and veins. “Ohh, is this not enough strength for you?” he smirked. “You know, if you applied yourself a little more at the gym, you might be able to grow your biceps bigger than your ego,” Emily teased as she playfully tossed a kitchen towel at her boyfriend's face, which he easily caught and slung over one of his traps.
They were the perfect couple, everyone said so. Their Instagrams overflowed with snapshots of their enviable life: sunsets on exotic beaches, dancing under neon lights at festivals, and sweaty gym selfies that showcased Emily’s supple figure and Jake’s Herculean build. As a fitness influencer, Jake had turned his body into a masterpiece, raking in followers and lucrative sponsorship deals. Emily, a sharp-witted lawyer, matched his drive and adored his charm. Together, they were the ultimate power couple.
As they sat down to eat, Jake reached over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Emily’s ear. “You’re stunning, you know that?”
She rolled her eyes but leaned into his touch. “And you’re a shameless flirt. But I still love you anyway.”
“Love you too,” he said, sealing it with a quick kiss. It was all part of their morning routine. It was these little things, like quiet, intimate moments before starting their days, that made them love each other even more.
Emily glanced at her watch and groaned. “Duty calls. Big case today.” She stood, smoothing out her skirt, before Jake pulled her into a bear hug, his massive arms and chest swallowing her small frame.
“Crush it, babe,” he said, kissing her forehead.
“Same to you, and don’t shower after the gym today. I want you all sweaty when I get home,” she shot back with a wink. With one last peck, she grabbed her bag and slipped out the door, leaving Jake alone in their sleek apartment.
Jake lingered in the kitchen for a few minutes, sipping the last of his coffee as he scrolled away on his phone. His days were loose. Answer some business emails, hit the gym, and maybe even record a tiktok or two with the boys. The freedom of being a fitness influencer suited him, letting him hone his body while cashing in on it. He was just making himself the first of many protein shakes for the day when a sharp knock at the door interrupted him. He strode to the door, his heavy steps echoing on the hardwood beneath his feet, and opened it wide.
As the door swung open, Jake’s gaze landed on a man around Jake’s own age, but a stark contrast in every other way. The guy was a twink, barely 5’5”, his slender frame drowning in a loose tank top that exposed bony shoulders and a narrow chest. His delicate features, high cheekbones, soft lips, and wide, doe-like eyes, flushed with nervous pink as they traced the curves of Jake’s towering, chiselled physique. Noticing the stare, Jake’s lips curled into a smug grin, his presence filling the doorway as the twink’s gaze lingered. The broad expanse of his pecs, the veins popping along his hulking arms, and the obscene outline of his manhood were enough to make anyone stare. Their eyes locked, a flicker of unspoken recognition passing between them.
Jake’s deep voice broke the silence, “Well, don’t just stand there,” as he stepped aside, gesturing with a jerk of his chin for the Twink to slip inside.
The twink scurried after Jake, his slight frame struggling to push the heavy oak door closed.
Meanwhile, Jake, his muscular back rippling as he sauntered toward the lounge, glanced over his shoulder, his eyes firm with authority. “You’re early today, kid,” he rumbled, his deep voice laced with a sharp edge. “Almost ran into Emily. If that happens again, and this little arrangement’s done.” The twink’s wide eyes went wide in a mix of fear and surprise. “Yes, sir”, he stammered, twitching nervously as he nodded, clearly intimidated by Jake’s threat.
Jake unceremoniously dropped onto one of the leather sofas, its frame creaking under his weight, before swinging his large feet onto the glass coffee table in front of him. “Start with the feet,” Jake ordered, his voice low and firm. The twink’s breath caught, his delicate features tightening with a mix of nerves and fixation, his gaze locked on the feet in front of him. Jake leaned back, one huge arm slung lazily over the sofa, his posture radiating effortless control of the situation.
The twink dropped to his knees, his slight frame bowing low before Jake, his trembling hands reaching for the large feet propped on the coffee table. Jake smirked as he wiggled his toes slowly, the motion deliberate and taunting. The twink’s delicate fingers pressed into Jake’s soles, kneading them with his soft fingers. Jake sank deeper into the sofa, his broad frame sprawling, head tilted back as a low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his chest. The twink’s eyes stayed fixed on the task, his breath shallow, as he massaged the meaty feet before him.
After a few moments, Jake gestured at the twink to move on. The twink dutifully raised his hands upward to start at his master’s legs. Jake flexed his calves, the muscle tightening into dense curves under the twink’s touch. Next came his thighs, which hardened into thick, corded masses, feeling like feathered steel, resisting the twink’s fingers. Jake shifted on the sofa, a low grunt signalling his pleasure at the twink’s work.
The twink’s fingers climbed to Jake’s abs, where Jake tensed subtly, his chiselled six-pack sharpening into hard ridges. The twink’s slender hands traced the sweat-slick grooves, tracing the outline of each individual brick. Jake’s slow breaths made the muscles pulse, his control absolute as the twink’s worship continued.
Sensing the titan before him was pleased with his work, the twink reached Jake’s shoulders and biceps, where Jake flexed subtly, his swollen muscles hardening into tight, unyielding peaks. The biceps felt like rock made flesh under the twink’s feeble grip, veins pulsing faintly as they bulged. Jake’s smirk sharpened as he lazily slung his giant arm over the sofa, exposing his hairy underarm.
Accepting the invitation, the twink leaned closer, his face inching toward Jake’s armpit, where a faint sheen of sweat glistened. He inhaled, catching the raw, musky scent. It smelled like sweat, soap, and something primal that made his head swim. “I figured you’d like that I didn’t shower after railing Emily last night”, Jake boasted. The twink’s delicate features twitched, a shudder of jealousy running through him. Emily. He remembered what it was like to…
The thought was lost as Jake pushed his head deeper into his armpit hair; the potent smell caught commanding the twink’s total attention once more. After several euphoric moments, Jake released him, his smug smirk growing wider as he waited for the twink to continue his work.
At last, the twink’s hands had reached Jake’s chest, his fingers grazed Jake’s nipples, drawing a low rumble from his throat. In return, Jake flexed his massive pecs, their meaty expanse hardening into chiselled slabs under the twink’s cautious touch. “Harder, kid,” Jake taunted, his voice dripping with disdain, “or are you too weak for that too?” The twink leaned closer, using the weight of his slender frame to apply more pressure to Jake’s sprawled bulk as he pawed at the chest in front of him. As he pressed forward, something firm poked into his stomach.
His eyes dropped to Jake’s crotch, where a throbbing erection strained the tight boxers, the fabric stretched to its limit, outlining every thick inch. Jake's fingers deftly tugged the waistband of his boxers down, freeing his huge cock and heavy balls. The thick shaft bobbed free, veins pulsing, as Jake sighed in relief. As the fresh air hit his exposed member, a musky scent wafted through the air. The twink sat frozen, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and nervous fixation.
Jake’s massive hand cupped the twink’s head as he guided him down toward the throbbing cock in front of him. The twink’s delicate tongue darted out, trembling as it traced the thick, swollen head, its slick warmth sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through Jake’s core. Jake groaned low, his hulking frame tensing on the sofa.
“Come on, I haven’t got all day,” Jake growled, his massive hand shoving the twink’s head down, forcing his thick cock past his trembling lips. The twink coughed and spluttered as the sheer girth stretched his mouth wide. Jake thrust in and out, long, practised strides filling the twink’s throat, his delicate jaw straining under Jake’s relentless pressure. The twink’s eyes watered, tears spilling as he gagged.
As they continued, they settled into a steady rhythm. Jake’s thick cock slid in and out of the twink’s stretched throat with practised, long, practised thrusts, as the twink’s muffled gasps blended with Jake’s low grunts. With his free hand, Jake groped at his chiselled pecs, squeezing one of his nipples to send even more pleasure through his powerful body.
The twink’s eyes, still teary from Jake’s relentless thrusts, locked onto Jake’s self-worship. Spurred by the sight, the twink’s slender fingers slid down his frail frame, finding his dick. He began furiously pumping it, each frantic stroke matching the rhythm of Jake’s cock in his throat. He let out a series of muffled whimpers as he chased his own desperate pleasure.
Altered by the sound, Jake’s eyes flicked down, catching the twink’s slender hand furiously pumping his small prick. With a sharp smack, Jake swatted the hand away, his massive palm leaving a red sting. “You’re here to serve me, not jerk yourself off,” he growled, his voice rough with authority, reinforcing his dominance.
Shaken, the twink’s trembling fingers shifted, moving to cup Jake’s heavy balls, their weight filling his delicate hands as he fondled them. Jake groaned, a deep rumble of approval, his hulking frame tensing as the twink’s fingers added to his pleasure.
As Jake’s pleasure surged, the deep moans rumbling in his chest grew louder, and his chiselled muscles began twitching and rolling under his skin. His pecs flexed, and veins pulsing across his thick arms as waves of heat rolled over his body. His thrusts into the twink’s throat grew rougher and faster, each push forcing the twink’s lips wider as he struggled to keep up with Jake’s relentless pace.
And then, as his pleasure peaked, Jake let out a deep, primal moan. His massive hand clamped onto the back of the twink’s head as he shoved the twink down. Jake kept forcing his thick, pulsing shaft deep into the twink until the twink’s face pressed flush against his crotch, his nose buried in the carefully trimmed pubes. The twink’s senses drowned in the assault. Jake’s musky, manly stench was raw and intoxicating. It flooded his lungs, making his head spin. His body quivered uncontrollably as he gasped for air, his lips stretched painfully wide around the girthy cock he was impaled on.
The twink felt Jake’s cock lurch violently in his throat, followed by a hot, throbbing pulse as Jake’s chiselled body tensed, his muscles rolling with the waves of pleasure washing over him. Jake groaned, his hulking frame convulsing as he unleashed a thick torrent of cum, flooding the twink’s throat.
The twink gagged, his small form pinned under Jake’s dominant grip as the thick, salty flood of cum filled him, his throat burning as he fought desperately to swallow. His eyes, teary and glazed, darted up, catching Jake’s towering power. There was a glint of recognition buried in his submissive haze, as if he’d once known the rush of such a commanding release.
Jake’s massive hand held the twink’s head firm, pinning him down as his cock pulsed through the final throbs of climax, hot cum spilling down the twink’s chin. With a satisfied grunt, Jake finally eased his hand, letting the twink pull back, gasping and coughing as he slid off the thick shaft.
With a grunt, Jake peeled off his sticky boxers and used them to wipe the lingering cum from his still-hard cock and abs before throwing them at the twink. “I want you gone by the time I come back”, Jake ordered as he left the room to get started with the rest of his day, his still hard cock bobbing along in front of him, leading the way.
He truly had the perfect life.
It was even more perfect that the man he’d stolen it from was lying in a puddle of his cum.
Jake’s body was everything he could have dreamed of. Every bulge, every vein was a testament to raw masculinity. The beauty that came with it turned heads everywhere he went, but it was Emily who anchored it all.
For Emily, he’d done it all. Stealing this body to match her fire. To be the man she deserved. With this body, she was finally his. The past six months had been bliss. The sweaty gym sessions. The romantic getaways. Her body pressed against his every night. He was even planning to propose to her on their next holiday. He would be locking in this life forever. With this body, and with the love of his life.
It would be a lifetime of mornings just like this. Having his old body worship his cock most mornings was just the icing on the cake.
If you like my stories and want to support my writing, please consider shouting me a coffee over on ko-fi.
Jake Evans hated being late, the kind of late that made his stomach twist because it meant thirty students would look up from their notes the moment he pushed through the door, already judging the sweat on his collar and the slight huff in his breath as he tried to act like everything was under control. Thirty-five years old, associate professor of early modern European history, tenure track so close he could taste it, and today the main campus path was blocked by construction tape and orange cones that forced everyone into a stupid zigzag detour. He’d already lost precious minutes, and when he checked his watch again the knot in his gut tightened further. Eight minutes left. Muttering under his breath, he stepped off the paved walkway and cut straight across the soccer field, dress shoes sinking slightly into the soft grass with each hurried stride, briefcase bumping against his thigh. The humanities building sat just past the far goalposts, a straight shot if he kept moving.
Halfway across the empty pitch a voice cut through the quiet afternoon air.
“Hey professor. Got a second?”
Jake slowed, then stopped, glancing over to see a middle-aged coach standing near the center circle in a black training jacket, clipboard tucked under one arm and a portable whiteboard propped beside him like he’d been running drills earlier. Jake pointed at himself, half-convinced the man was talking to someone else. “Me?”
The coach nodded casually. “Yeah. Quick favor.”
Jake checked his watch again. Seven minutes now. “I really have a lecture starting soon.”
“Two minutes max,” the coach replied, calm and steady. “I’m testing a new concentration drill for the team. Just need someone neutral to read a few lines off the board while I time the responses. You’re staff. Perfect.”
Jake looked around the field again. No players in sight, no practice gear scattered, just the two of them and the soft rustle of wind moving through the grass. He exhaled sharply, already regretting it. “Fine. Two minutes. That’s it.”
He dropped the briefcase in the grass and stepped up to the whiteboard. The coach handed him a dry-erase marker like it carried some kind of weight. “Read each one out loud. Nice and clear.”
Jake scanned the first sentence and let out a short, disbelieving laugh. I am nineteen years old.
“Yeah, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not reading that. I’m thirty-five.”
The coach said nothing, just waited with that same patient expression.
Jake opened his mouth to refuse again, to walk away and salvage what was left of his schedule, but the words slipped out smooth and effortless, like they’d been waiting there all along. “I am nineteen years old.”
Heat bloomed across his face and spread downward in a slow wave, skin tightening as faint lines around his eyes softened and vanished completely. His jaw sharpened under the stubble that retreated almost imperceptibly, cheeks lifting into a smoother, fuller shape. Hair that had started thinning at the crown thickened noticeably, dark strands pushing forward to fall messily over his forehead in that careless, just-rolled-out-of-bed style. The slight hunch he’d developed from years hunched over books disappeared as his posture straightened naturally, shoulders settling back without effort. He grabbed at his face, fingers trembling. “What the hell…”
His hands looked younger too, skin smoother, knuckles less pronounced, veins less visible under the surface. Everything about his face felt fresh and tight, like someone who’d never known the drag of late-night grading sessions or faculty meetings. “No. No, I’m thirty-five,” he said, but the words came out in a lighter register, almost boyish.
The coach tapped the next line without comment. I train every single day.
Jake took a step back, shaking his head harder. “I’m not reading another word.”
But the sentence forced its way up through his throat like it had already been decided. “I train every single day.”
His stomach pulled inward sharply, the soft layer he’d carried around his middle for years melting away as if it had never settled there. Skin stretched tight over newly flat, lean abs that weren’t carved for show, just smooth and tight from constant movement instead of desk chairs. His shirt shifted against him, fabric lightening from pale blue to bright athletic white, buttons dissolving as the material reformed into a lightweight Puma jersey that clung lightly to his chest. Across the back bold black letters stitched themselves in place: BAUER 17. Jake stared down at it in disbelief, fingers clutching the hem. “I don’t even like sports…”
The coach tapped again. I am built lean and fast.
“I’m a history professor,” Jake said quickly, words tumbling over each other. “I have a doctorate, tenure coming, I don’t—” “I am built lean and fast.”
His legs reshaped next, thighs compacting as soft weight redistributed into long, lean muscle suited for quick sprints across grass. Calves hardened into clean lines. He lost an inch and a half of height in a subtle shift, settling at a balanced five-nine that felt lower to the ground, more agile. Jeans softened and lightened, creeping upward until they became white soccer shorts resting high on his thighs. “This isn’t real,” he muttered, voice unsteady. “This isn’t happening.”
The coach pointed to the next sentence. My feet are made for the pitch.
“Stop,” Jake said, voice cracking slightly. “Just stop.” “My feet are made for the pitch.”
His dress shoes creaked as leather twisted and narrowed around his toes, soles hardening into rigid plastic. Metal studs emerged one by one with small popping sounds until twelve dotted each bottom. The shoes became filthy white cleats, mud already crusted along the sides like he’d spent the morning sliding through tackles just for the hell of it. His socks stretched upward along his calves, thickening into long white athletic ones streaked with grass stains and faint sweat rings.
Jake stared down at them, pulse hammering in his ears. “This can’t be happening.”
The coach tapped again. My cleats give me the perfect foot stink.
He tried to clamp his mouth shut, but the words came through anyway. “My cleats give me the perfect foot stink.”
The odor rose immediately, thick and warm, cheesy and tangy, the ripe smell that builds after hours of running on hot turf. It filled the space around him, sharp enough to linger on his tongue. Jake wanted to retch but his lungs pulled it in instead, the scent settling into something familiar, almost comforting. “That stink…it’s awful,” he whispered, yet the protest felt weaker, like the smell was already part of him.
The coach tapped. My height is perfect for the game.
“I’m not…” “My height is perfect for the game.”
His frame locked in lighter and lower, exactly the build for a regular guy who played soccer just because it felt good to run around with friends.
The coach tapped again. My ass is firm and athletic.
Jake clamped both hands over his mouth, eyes wide with fresh horror. “No.” The sentence came muffled but clear. “My ass is firm and athletic.”
His butt lifted and rounded at once, flat soft cheeks tightening into high, firm muscle that filled the white shorts perfectly without any sag or overhang. It felt powerful, springy, ready to drive him forward on every stride. Then a small wet fart slipped out as everything settled, thick and pungent, earthy grass mixed with warm sweat musk. The stink hung heavy in the air, strong and ripe like someone who’d been on the field all morning. Jake’s face flushed scarlet, but the odor didn’t turn his stomach the way it should have. It smelled right, like it belonged to him now.
The coach tapped. My dick is small and fits perfect in my shorts.
Panic flared in his eyes. “Please, not that…” “My dick is small and fits perfect in my shorts.”
Everything down there drew inward, softening and shrinking until the length shortened and the weight lightened, sitting neat and compact inside the tight black Calvin Klein trunks. No extra swing, no noticeable bulge, just tucked snug so nothing shifted when he moved. It felt simple, normal, like it had always been that way.
The coach kept going. My upper body is lean for speed.
“I teach history…I have a boyfriend…” “My upper body is lean for speed.”
His chest narrowed slightly, ribs showing just under the skin as the remaining softness melted away into a flat, efficient build with faint abs shaped by constant running rather than gym sessions. Nothing bulky, just lean and light.
The coach tapped. My arms are strong for the ball.
“Stop this now,” Jake begged. “My arms are strong for the ball.”
The soft flab on his biceps and forearms slimmed into wiry, lean muscle suited for precise passes or casual throws. Shoulders rolled back into a natural, relaxed posture.
The coach tapped. My armpits sweat like a real athlete.
Sweat poured heavier, soaking the jersey in wide dark patches under his arms. “I can’t…” “My armpits sweat like a real athlete.”
The pit stink bloomed sharp and salty, thick masculine odor that lingered after hard sessions and never quite faded. It blended with the foot stink and the lingering ass musk, heavy and real around him.
The coach tapped. I only want girls now.
Tears stung his eyes. “Chris…we live together…I’m gay…” “I only want girls now.”
The flip came fast and complete. Chris’s face blurred and dissolved like it had never mattered. Instead thoughts filled with short skirts, long legs, glossy smiles, the simple rush of knowing girls were watching him after he scored just for fun. Straight. Straightforward. Normal. The old attraction faded entirely, replaced by something basic and direct.
The coach tapped. I am laid back and simple.
“My mind…my life…” “I am laid back and simple.”
The serious, analytical edge he’d honed over years of study dissolved. No more overthinking every detail. Just easy, chill, going with the flow, laughing with the guys, living for the next casual game.
The coach tapped. My hygiene is just the field sweat and stink.
Sweat cooled on his neck as the smells mingled—pit stink, foot stink, that faint ass fart musk. “I used to shower every day…” “My hygiene is just the field sweat and stink.”
The idea of scrubbing it all away felt strange now, unnecessary. The odors were part of him, comfortable, normal, like they’d always been there.
The coach tapped. I am Ryan Bauer. Just a regular guy who plays soccer for fun.
His voice cracked on the protest. “My name is Jake…I have tenure…” “I am Ryan Bauer. Just a regular guy who plays soccer for fun.”
The old identity slipped away completely. Lectures, research papers, Chris, the careful thirty-five years of building a life around intellect—all overwritten. He was Ryan now. Nineteen. Straight. Boring. Athletic in the most average way. Played soccer because it was fun to run around with friends, nothing more, nothing serious.
The coach tapped the final line. My mind is focused only on football and basic things.
Thoughts slowed to a crawl. History dates and complex theories turned fuzzy and distant, pointless. “I can’t remember any of that…” Ryan murmured, the words already feeling far away. “My mind is focused only on football and basic things.”
Everything sharpened into simple priorities: passing the ball, when to sprint, girls smiling from the sideline, hanging out with the guys. No room for deep thoughts or heavy books. Just dumb, straightforward focus on the game and whatever came next.
The coach tapped the very last sentence. I am a football player.
No resistance left. “I am a football player.”
The last traces of panic vanished, replaced by calm, empty clarity. His stance shifted naturally, cleats pressing into the turf without thought. Body felt light, ready, perfectly balanced for messing around on the field.
The briefcase sitting a few feet away looked absurd now, some relic from another life.
The coach folded his arms. “How do you feel, Bauer?”
Ryan rolled his shoulders, an easy grin spreading across his face like it had always belonged there. “Feels good, coach.”
A ball sailed toward him. He trapped it cleanly with the inside of his foot, no hesitation. Flicked it up and started juggling, touches lazy and instinctive. Without thinking he lifted the hem of his jersey and wiped the sweat from his face, black Calvin Klein waistband showing clearly above the muddy white shorts. Socks sagged slightly from dirt. Hair stuck to his forehead in wet spikes. The foot stink, pit stink, lingering ass musk—all of it mixed together and felt perfect, normal.
“Training starting now?” he asked, already shifting his weight, already moving.
The coach nodded once. “Right now.”
Ryan took off at an easy jog across the field, cleats clicking softly against the turf, every step simple and right. Behind him the briefcase remained open in the grass, papers rustling in the wind, completely forgotten.
He didn’t look back. Didn’t need to. His mind was quiet now, clear and focused on the basics. Soccer for fun. Hanging out. Girls. That was all there was.
They were both the sweetest boyfriends there could be. Same interests in books and studying. Both soft spoken, skinny, nerdy but in a cute way. But then came the innocent dare. Why not act like dumb bros for a night. They both despised them, but didn’t they also kind of envy them? Their carefree attitudes, the muscle…. In any case a little roleplay would be a fun way to spice up their lovemaking a little. Did they realize how much they’d get into it? No. Did they notice how much their voices naturally deepened every time they jokingly said bro or dude or how easily the jock lingo started to roll of their tongue? No, the passion was building too much. Not the sweet tender kisses and care they usually had. No, if they were pretending to be dumb jocks, they had to be rougher, passionate, aggressive. Peeling off clothing, commenting on how hot and swoll each other looked, flexing and massaging swelling muscle that wasn’t there a few moments ago. But they didn’t care. Bro was so hot. So big. So hard. Brain emptying of all thoughts felt good when there was just pleasure, just muscle. Just two dumb jocks hot for each other.
The minute we landed in Miami, my best friend Xander rushed out of the airport looking for his Uber. I asked him what his hurry was all about, but all he said was that he wanted to drop all our stuff off and enjoy this week and start our vacation off right.
“Just the two of us” he whispered under his breath. We finally got to our AirBnb right next to a private beach and I began unpacking in my room while Xander went off exploring the neighborhood.
I went downstairs to grab a bite and I saw a muscly twink in nothing but a speedo and socks invested deeply on his phone. I stared at him, mesmerized by the way his biceps and triceps flexed and stretched as he typed furiously. His bubble butt was so inviting and I was drawn to it as a moth to a flame. His package was nothing to laugh about either, and his torso was so sexy. The ridges of his abs were begging for worship while his shredded pecs taunted me as they rose and fell with his breath. He was perfect.
My gaze finally made its way to his face and I couldn’t help but feel hot and bothered. His eyes, still focused on his phone, were distinctively amber, so beautiful and mesmerizing. His short hair cut was so hot, offering some edginess to his admittedly adorable demeanor. He looked up at me and smirked, pressing one final button on his phone before strutting his way towards me. I was caught and stuck, a deer in the headlights of his amber eyes.
“Look down, babe. I think you’ll enjoy the sight.” He whispered into my ear as he grabbed hold of my biceps. Wait... biceps? I shook free of the twink’s grasp and looked down. I was shocked.
I was a Greek sculpture, carefully and lovingly molded by Apollo himself. I was wearing nothing but a virtual loincloth, which hid nothing from the imagination. I twisted and turned, checking out my newly muscled-up bottom and my steel-hard legs. I brought my hands up to my eyes as I saw veins trace their way throughout my forearms into my massive biceps and triceps. My skin fell so soft, so smooth to the touch, feeling like latex on my muscles. As I felt myself up, my hands massaged my rock-hard slab of pecs that flexed with no effort. Ohhh my nipples w-were so s-sensitive... I closed my eyes and began rubbing and massaging my whole body, enjoying the strength and ridges of my new body.
I felt a new pair of hands join mine on their journey of erotic discovery, tracing the peaks and valleys of my torso. All of this pleasure was building up in my loincloth as my newly engorged manhood grew longer and harder than I’ve ever felt it grow. I unknowingly started moaning as the twink’s hands made their way into the cloth and started pumping...
and pumping...
and pumping...
He began nibbling on my neck, leaving the faintest trail of kisses tracing my shoulder blade to my traps up to my earlobe. “I wanted this trip to be one to remember, so I bought this app’s spring break promotion,” the twink whispered as he continued to pump. I was completely immobilized by his rhythmic groping and sultry voice. “I knew we’ve been on and off for years, but I thought this would be a great way to rekindle the romance, stud.” I finally realized. He was Xander.
“X-Xander, I love this p-please don’t sssssstop” I stuttered out as I began to leak into his perfect hands. He chuckled, nuzzling his beautiful face into my neck.
“I’ve known you too long to not know your type. I decided to make you mine too so we got the best out of this experience, honey.”
Finally adjusting to my powerful muscles. I turned around and pinned the twink to the sink, devouring his mouth and feeling up his taut body. God this was euphoric! The rhythm grew more sensual and steamy; with each kiss welcomed a new grips on the ass, on my massive back, on my love-handle-less waist, on my deeply cut abs, on his perfectly proportioned arms, on his soft and plump ass, on his cut and smooth cheeks, through his soft and styled dirty blonde hair. We were in heaven.
We stopped making out and groping one another and looked into one another’s eyes and we just knew... we were gonna bring sex on the beach to a whold new level.
Trent and Dom finally came back to the room, never looking up from checking out their new assets.
“Looks like you boys faired well,” Steve smirked as he checked out his friends.
“Found this guy by the pool. Something about his blue briefs just did it for me, hehe. But man is this guy roided af!” Trent explained, tracing his beefy fingers up and down the ridges of his forearm veins.
“Man this guy was packing on hard workout. Check out the pump in these biceps, my dude! He was pretty tired too so it was easy to slip in. But fuck I feel so invigorated and powerful. RAHHHH!” Dom flexed for his amigos. “Just gotta fix this tan line but I think a day would take care of that. We’re here for a week anyway.”
“Mmmmm. Yeah, one whole week of gallivanting as these studs. Who needs to get in shape for spring break when people can do it for you, amirite fellas? My guy was walking down the hall and I knew I just had to have him. Stripped him down to these neon briefs and haven’t stopped fooling around since.” Steve said, he checked out his friends. “Why don’t we test these guys out before we... take them out into town?” Steve peered into Dom’s eyes. Dom gulped; he may look like an alpha male, but he was still a sub bottom at heart. Trent smirked reaching for his friends’ pecs and feeling the muscle and power flow through them, resulting in a low growl. This year’s spring break was gonna be one for the books. Now if only the studs left their suite and actually explore town.
There are millions of stories to tell about those who were affected by the great shift that shook the world two years ago. Sure, that event brought up tragedy, but also a lot of hope. I have heard the stories of people that were able to prove that love has no boundaries and people that were able to step up on occasion to help thousands of affected. But there are so many more to tell. After a major stop in New York city, I head towards less populated areas of the country. Who knows what I am going to encounter next, in what I call the shift chronicles.
Max’s Story
My next stop brought me to the American suburbs. Between all the identical houses, which seemed extracted from a dystopian futuristic novel, I encountered Max. He looked like your all-american typical jock. Blue eyes and muscular body. He was having a party at his house and agreed to talk to me for a couple of minutes.
“What happened to me and my kid was one of the rarest switches out there. I have heard the changes between complete strangers, but a father and son swap, I think that we are the only, or at least is something extremely rare. But I will call this a divine intervention. My son was a complete mess. Honestly, I cannot tell you how many times we fight. He never listened to me. He didn’t care about his grades, he passed his time smoking weed and mingling with weird people. I believe that the switch was an act of God. I was a good parent, but the kid was ruining his life. He rejected all the help that I provided, he would have done something he would regret for the rest of his life. But then this blessing happened. I got Max… myself into college. I have been hitting the gym constantly. Do you look like a drug addict, I turn around all his life… my life”- He said.
Of course, I asked Max where his “new father” was as I couldn’t find him in that house. He told me that his kid was right now in a mental institution in order to combat all his addictions and mental problems. This particular case gave me a lot of food for thought. It's true that the original Max was a troublesome kid, but that didn’t mean that he deserved what ended up happening to him. I have the sense that the new Max has taken the necessary steps of removing his former son from the picture. He justified it with religion. Did the great shift happen by divine intervention? or was it something else? There were people arrested after the incident, so definitely there is something else going on. Sadly, those are confidential papers that we will never see released.
Duncan’s story
But honestly, I don’t think that it was in God’s plan, as there was no way that he wanted what happened to the real Duncan. Well, religious people say that God acts in a mysterious way, so it is very difficult for us to understand his plan. As I approached the parish, a young priest approached me. Just reminding the reader that all the names on this paper have been changed in order to protect the identity of the victims.
From the beginning, Duncan was a bit aggressive. He didn't know exactly how I figured that he had been involved in the great shift. I explained in detail how, but due confidentiality issues I am not going to share them here. I would say that I was taking a big risk talking to him, he was a dangerous man. After he confirmed that I have no microphones, cameras and paid 10K for his story; He relaxed and told me everything that I wanted.
“So, I was doing my sentence. 25 years for drug trafficking and another couple of crimes. It doesn’t matter, I would not deny it. I committed everything that you read about me” - In this case he is referring to a couple of highly publicised murders - “But then this miracle happened. One moment, I was inside an isolation room, the next I was lifting weights in this town gym. It was the most arousing moment in my life. I was hot, with a clean state, but most importantly, I was free. Then I learned that the guy was the local priest. Tell me if there is a better cover to run my business” - He said. I did not dig more. How many criminals are out there, pretending to be your teacher, your brother, the local priest. Who knows? Nobody has raised questions regarding Father Duncan legitimacy, I was just able to catch this lead as he made the mistake to contact a friend of his which I was interviewing at the time. But after talking with Duncan, to see how easily he transforms from a tough guy to the most loving priest out there… Well, it is understandable the generalized paranoia that the great shift generated.
Paul’s Story
Having a criminal in the body of a priest was something terrible. Now imagine a terrorist inside the flesh of a soldier. Paul was a heroic American. He served Iraq, Libya and participated in cover operations across the world. He was on a mission when the great shift happened. After returning home, it was his wife who signaled that there was something wrong about Paul. Nobody could ever prove that he was a victim of the switch, but that is why I am here today.
“So you are asking if I am the real Paul. I can fool Paul’s parents, friends and workers. All of them believe that Claire just was looking for an excuse to get a divorce. But she knew the man that she married. I am not the real Paul. I will not say that I was a terrorist, I really believe that I was protecting my land. Paul and his team stormed my camp, they killed all my friends and they put a bullet on my chest. Those murderous bastards, I was dying on the ground. I was preparing to go and then I was in the flesh of this guy. I thought that I could get my revenge… to use this body to infiltrate and destroy America from within. But I quickly learned something. We are all humans… you are not so different to what I am. That is what I want… in the future… if possible, to change things from within. Not destroy them, to change them. Convince people that the way that we do war is wrong”
The new Paul is still an active member of the military. He wants to get promoted in order to influence the upper echelons. Hopefully, he is true to his word, but again, I am not sure people will feel confident with someone with Paul’s background in a position of power. That is why I can say that the great shift is one of the greatest tragedies that humanity has experienced. Distrust has become the norm of society. Before, sure, nobody could claim that you knew someone, but now that is an impossibility.
When George sent me a snap, I expected a simple “Streak” message. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw Jorge, the Peruvian exchange student, in the pic with the message “Wanna?” At that second I realized two things - George trapped Jorge, and he offered him to me on a silver platter.
During our first year in university, George realized he had weird powers. Something about his mom being from the Salem line. His two most mastered powers? Hypnosis and body swapping. George and I would do this every now and then. He’d hypnotize our target, swap bodies, and then hypnotize the target again so that he believed he was always in that body. It was full proof… and incredibly kinky. I discovered George in the middle of a swap with the president of Delta Iota Kappa our first year. Ever since then, I’ve been his partner in crime. It’s how we’ve managed to stay 20 years young for 20 years.
To scout future bodies more efficiently, George and I swap with various department heads. This time he was the Linguistics Chair and I became the Finance Chair. Jorge was in my class and my god was he the perfect package. Smart, athletic, sexy, charismatic, BISEXUAL. Mind you getting with literally anyone he wants is a plus, especially when I could get anyBODY with Jorge’s facade. The kid was also definitely set for life with his skill set and background. I guess I’m going to be him this semester, or maybe for the next couple of years. I’ve never experienced being in my mid twenties, so I may as well start with a hot body and s bright future.
I snapped George back with a short caption: “Por supuesto, mi amor.”
“Well did it work?” Austin asked me as I continued to look in awe at the sculpted hunk in front of me. He was no longer Austin, though. He was now Redden, star swimmer of Tower U and my newest boy toy.
Since I stole Derek’s special phone, along with his Adonis body, I’ve been searching for more students with below average bodies and social lives. I wanted to share my wealth with the rest of the university. After all, these ugly nerds are desperate for any sense of social recognition, whether that be going to parties, fucking around campus, or just having friends outside of their nerdy cohort.
Austin was my latest project for obvious reasons. As a chemical engineering student, he was a genius, but too smart for his own good. He was consistently bullied by the swim team, who would often spot Austin with his classmates running experiments at the pool. Austin was gay. He was ugly. He was desperate. He was mine.
After swim practice one day, Austin was unforetunately stuffed into the smelly lockers of the swim team room, leaving him there until midnight when the cleaning crew heard him sobbing. Word quickly spread, and I felt pity for the young scientist. What hurt the most was that his idol, his biggest crush, was Redden, the swim team captain.
After seizing Derek’s body and ensuring he doesn’t bother anyone anymore, I approached Austin to get coffee, an offer he quickly accepted. I flirted with him, groped him, laughed at all his corny science jokes, and finally I mentioned Redden. That instantly silenced Austin. He confessed that Redden is the perfect man to him, in every way. Austin was right in his assessment. While Redden was a gifted swimmer and a part time model, he was also a chemical engineering student himself, and a brilliant one at that. Austin provided some context to his tragic relationship with Redden, detailing how the swimmer was his first friend in college until he started attending swim practices, cementing both of their roles in Tower U’s social hierarchy. Austin felt betrayed by Redden, but still couldn’t quell his incessant obsession with the jock.
“Is it that you like Redden, or that you want to be Redden?” I innocently asked. Austin seemed taken aback by the question, but after some thought, reluctantly agreed with my assessment. A devilish grin sprouted upon my face. I laid out my plan.
Spring Break always followed the final regular season meet before regionals, meaning it was the best time to steal a body and run away with it without a trace. Tower U won, of course, but not without some difficulty. Before the match at a party, I swapped my thick legs with Redden’s, meaning he had some extra difficulty moving around the pool. This, coupled with his duty as swim team captain, meant that he’d spend a little extra time in the locker-room before leaving, as he needed to rest a bit more than the others and lock up the room.
Austin and I snuck into the locker room after the meet and gagged Redden, taking him to a motel on the outskirts of campus. Redden’s absence wouldn’t alarm anyone. Unlike other jocks, Redden always went abroad to help underprivileged communities during Spring Break, so no one was traveling with him.
At the motel, Austin and I tied Redden to the bed. As Austin showered, I stripped the knocked out jock, massaging the hunk’s body to induce an erection. I was pleasantly surprised at his length and girth. Austin popped back out in a motel robe and was struck by the sight. His ideal body, his ideal life, served to him on a silver platter, all within an arm’s grasp, or a picture’s snap.
I explained to Austin that he needed to take the picture at such an angle that Redden’s entire body would be in the photo. Austin took some time figuring out an angle and, after deciding on the perfect one, snapped the photo, the camera’s flash shining throughout the room. It actually blinded me for a second, but once the flash subsided, I saw Austin’s pudgy, pale, undeveloped body tied on the bed and Redden’s big, healthy, muscular body standing next to me, donned in nothing but a bathrobe.
“Well did it work?” Austin asked, surprised by the low voice emanating from his lips. I snatched the phone from him and hastily snapped a photo of his stolen legs, returning his lithe legs and receiving by thicker ones. Smirking, I walked up to him, pulled him by the robe, and began making out with him. Feeling his strong muscles, hearing the low, guttural moan relaxing his mouth, I knew that I found a new friend, with many benefits. I saw that the erection also transferred to Austin during the switch, and so we had such a sensual, yet sleepless, night in bed together.
Austin’s powerful upper body held me down as he thrust into my thick ass, holding me close against his own torso. Flipping around, Austin offered me the most powerful kiss I’ve received, a token of gratitude for such a life changing event. As he inches deeper and deeper into me, I grasped onto his tight pecs, enjoying my journey down to the ridges of his abs. He nipped at my neck, a soft spot I had nonchalantly mentioned during our first talk over coffee. Finally, his thrusts began to quicken, gradually becoming sloppier as he neared ejaculation. With one, final, booming, deep groan, Austin came.
Gasps for air followed as our sweat mingled under the covers of our passionate heat. His laugh, more like a giggle, sent vibrations down to every cell of my body. He exited my hole and began to spoon me, whispering, “Thank you for this. I’ll be yours forever.” I giggled at his statement. First mission was a success. Not only did I get a new playtime pal, I also ended the swim team’s reign of terror on the nerds. I nestled deeper into Austin’s powerful arms, his biceps providing much needed cushion as I fell into euphoric slumber. Tower U was about to upend it’s hierarchy, one swap at a time.
-"Just need to find a photo and I think I'm done!" John thought as he selected a simple selfie of himself from his phone's gallery, he then proceeded to press the "All done" button.
As a nurse, it was hard for John to have some free time for himself as he was almost always in the hospital and when he finally was able to go home he'd be so tired that he would just lay down on his bed and sleep for hours.
Because of this, the last real relationship he ever had was in college and even though he had tried to go on a date with one guy a couple of weeks ago he had to cancel because of a shift change and the guy was so angry that he ghosted him and wouldn't respond to his texts.
With this in mind and after a long internal debate John found himself downloading a new gay dating app called "Pole", it had good reviews and promised that one could get a serious date or a one night stand in only a couple of days with a certified 100% success rate.
That and the reviews for the app were pretty out there with some people saying that " It changed their lives forever" or "I love it, I've never felt happier with the new life I have".
-"John Muller, your profile is ready!" A sudden message box said which made John look at his phone intently, just to be sure in case there were any mistakes John found himself reading what he had written.
Description Of Me: I'm a hard-working sentimental guy that works as a nurse, when I have free time I like to spend it reading or watching something new on Netflix, I enjoy going on hikes or walks.
What I Want: I'm searching for someone who understands that I won't probably be present all the time thanks to my job, I would also like a guy that has a good sense of humor and that is just as sensible and emotional as I am, I don't care how you look, for me the inside of a person is the most important.
-"Seems about right..." John thought as he pressed the finish button.
-"John Muller, before you continue would you like to use our Automated Profile Reviewer feature in order to give you an exact report on your chances of landing a date or one night stand?".
John was about to press decline as he felt like he had done a good enough job describing himself but he quickly remembered that he had little experience in dating.
-"I think it would help" John thought as he pressed accept -"Won't be bad if I try either way...".
Almost immediately the screen went white with the logo of "Pole" in the middle of it and with the following text below.
-"John Muller you're Automated Profile Review will be finished and ready to check in EIGHTH HOURS".
John's eyes immediately grew larger as he was surprised by the amount of time his profile review would take, considering everything and how easy and intuitive the app had been until now he thought it would take a few minutes but not a few hours!
-"Hell no!" John thought as he got up from his bed and left his phone on the night table next to his bed and then proceeded to go to the bathroom.
Once in the bathroom, John brushed his teeth and quickly changed into his pajamas as he was still wearing his nurse uniform.
Because of the time John had to wait to see his profile, he decided to just call it a day and go to sleep, with this in mind John threw his uniform into the dirty laundry basket he had in the bathroom, and once he was done doing everything else he needed to do he threw himself at his bed.
John then proceeded to turn off the lights and almost immediately after that his eyes became heavy and in a matter of seconds, he fell deeply asleep.
Meanwhile, his phone on the night table next to him suddenly turned off and then on again. The sleeping John didn't notice any of this which gave the Automated Profile Reviewer its chance to fulfill its prime directive, to get John a date or a one-night stand with a man as quickly as possible, in order to do this the APR started changing things about John's bio in an attempt at making him more appealing,
Yet John had made a huge mistake while setting up his account, instead of specifying which type of experience he wanted, be it a committed date or just a night of sex, the APR had to select this preference at random.
As John continued sleeping while moving from side to side, he didn't notice how the picture that he had previously submitted where he was seated on a bench at a local park had been replaced by the image of a lean and fully tattooed black guy laying provocatively on a bed with a sensual grin on his face, his giant ass in full display and the bulge of a large dick could be seen straining the small purple thong he was wearing.
After this text appeared on the screen and quickly disappeared John's body and later on the environment around him started changing to better suit his new bio.
Thankfully the sleepy John wouldn't notice anything until he woke the next morning, his mind and body were in a deep sleep as his height suddenly decreased from his lanky six feet four to a more manageable and compact six feet.
This was then followed by the sudden loss of fat all over John's body, especially around his abdomen and chest areas which were now completely flat surfaces ready for further changes.
As the last vestiges of fat were eliminated from John's body one would think that he would have lost a little bit of weight yet this couldn't be further from reality as John's weight slowly increased.
This new weight was due to the growth of John's musculature which started around his legs as seen by his new larger and muscular thighs and hamstrings.
From there two parts of John's body changed dramatically, the first was his penis which initially became erect but then grew larger until it reached the nine inches mark.
A few other minor changes happened like John's dick now being uncircumcised and that at its base it was accompanied by a pair of large balls that hung lower than before.
The second area was John's behind which went from being flat and unremarkable to giant and bubbly in a matter of seconds.
Its size was such that it now made an obvious outline on John's blanket that could be seen from afar thanks to his particular way of sleeping upside down.
Then on John's torso, six bulges formed where his small belly used to be, these bulges went on to form a six-pack.
This was followed by the growth of John's pecs in his chest area, even though these pecs were filled with solid muscle they still had a bouncy quality to them, this was complemented by the growth of John's nipples making said pecs look slightly like breasts.
John's figure also changed as his body became much more curvaceous and even developed a wasp waist, this gave him the perfect equilibrium between masc/fem features that was bound to attract a ton of people.
Yet the changes brought by the APR weren't over as seen by the muscle growing in John's arms which ended up forming a pair of decently sized biceps and toned lower arms.
With the majority of John's body now fully transformed the APR commenced a new drastic round of changes.
The most obvious of these changes was the sudden change of John's skin tone from the base of his neck downwards, first, it only became slightly darker, as if his skin had developed a tan but it quickly changed into caramel, then to brown, and to dark brown, until it finally settled at a dark ebony coloration.
Then John's skin was partially covered by a huge amount of complex tattoos that extended from his legs upwards towards his neck which by now was also slowly matching the coloration of the rest of John's body
In John's neck area another thing to note was the alteration of his vocal cords which could now produce a sensual yet masculine voice.
With this out of the way, John's face was finally the prime focus of the APR's changes, before any of John's facial features could change the APR proceeded to match the skin tone of John's face to that of his lower body.
Quickly a black wave consumed any white coloration that was left leaving John with a fully black body but with the face of your average white guy.
The APR knew this comical form wouldn't work as it would probably disturb people so it continued on its changing spree.
Every caucasian feature from John's face was eliminated, in its place, more stereotypical African features formed as seen by John's new plump and large kissable lips, his wide nose, and his slightly larger eyes that now possessed dark brown colored pupils.
A few other superficial changes happened to John's face like the age it displayed as even the smallest imperfection brought on by the passage of time was eliminated, giving John an overall younger appearance.
Finally, the APR changed John's hair, it first changed in color from brown to dark black but dyed blonde at the tips, then its texture became much more rough and curly, despite this John's new set of hair quickly molded itself into a dozen or so braids.
In the rest of John's body his hair color also now matched that of his scalp yet this change wasn't as noticeable at a first glance as the majority of his body was now fully waxed except for his pits, balls, and a trimmed goatee that had just appeared on his face.
Then APR added a few metallic items to John's body in the form of silver nipple piercings, two pure gold earrings on both of his ears, and a small diamond piercing in his left nostril, lastly the APR removed John's pajama leaving him fully naked on his bed.
Almost immediately as John's changes had ended his body was quickly transported from his apartment in a small midwestern town to a large modern loft apartment in the famous borough of Brooklyn.
Environment Changed... More Possible Dates Detected... Finishing Last Bio Changes...
Description Of Me: I'm a model, professional dancer, porn actor, and stripper who loves a good time with another man, I can do whatever and in whichever position you like...
What I Want: If you have a dick and an ass then don't doubt on messaging me 😈
Probability With New Presets... 5% And 100% Respectively...
With this last message and another small change the Pole app finally turned off as the APG had gone far and beyond in order to do its job of securing a one night stand, and by the almost faint noise of dozens of Pole notifications, John or Jarell is a total success at that.
When the sun finally rose and its beams entered the enormous windows of John's new loft, his body moved slightly as his eyes finally opened and new information of his environment streamed into his brain.
At first, John thought he was in some sort of realistic dream or that his mind was playing games with him but quickly he realized that this wasn't possible as the place he was now in felt more than a dream, it felt real.
John then cautiously got up from the larger bed he had been sleeping in and immediately noticed that he was fully naked, yet this fact didn't scare him, what scared him was the realization that his skin was now black instead of his pale white.
To get a closer look John moved towards a large mirror next to the bed and observed in awe at his newly black skin, muscled body, and sensual looks.
-"What dis bullshit?" John said which made him jump back as he heard the deep bass of his voice and the accented way he now spoke in.
-"Is dat my voice?" John said with bewilderment, everything about him was foreign yet exciting as evidenced by the erection John now sported between his legs.
-"Better get up ta date" John thought as he turned around and looked at what he supposed was his new home, the place was huge and had minimalist yet elegant furniture, the more John looked at it the more he thought that whatever had happened was a total upgrade from his old life.
-"No!" John suddenly thought as he fought with his thoughts -"I gotta go back, dis ain me!"
With this in mind, John walked towards one of the night tables and he quickly found a phone, said phone was the latest and most expensive iPhone which was a far departure from John's old and beaten galaxy.
After scanning his face the iPhone promptly unlocked which gave John full access to his new life, after all everything there is to know about a person is stored in their phone.
John decided to check the Pole app first, as he pressed the app icon he was attacked by a barrage of messages, in total he had received around two thousand of them from around five hundred different men of different ages, sizes, bodies, and races.
-"Dis is madness..." John thought as he then proceed to check out his profile.
A few things stood out for him, apparently, his new self is called Jarell Marcus, the body he now inhabited is seven years younger than his previous one and he was also now vers.
John for a moment looked down at his ass, the enormous size of it and how it jiggled with even the slightest movement made him feel weird, this quickly transformed into a desire to be filled up with something, to make the emptiness go away.
-"Dat checks out..." John thought in an uncaring fashion, despite being a top all of his life he didn't care that he was now vers as it seemed like his body was made for it, the ass he now possessed wasn't only for show after all.
The thing that really bothered John was the "Description Of Me" part of his bio.
-"Am a pornstar?" John said out loud in worry, he quickly opened safari and searched his new name with "porn" next to it.
Immediately the search results shocked him even more, there were dozens of porn sites with his name, most worryingly he had an only fans, when he clicked on the link a login request immediately appeared, despite this John filled in the requested information with no hassle, as if he had done it multiple times before, once he had opened Jarell's profile he noted that he had close to twenty thousand followers and a subscriber fee of fifteen dollars.
-"Dat means Jarell earns... He earns..." John said as he had problems calculating the amount in his head, it was as if his simple math knowledge had been sucked out of his mind, because of this John left the safari app and opened the calculator.
He then introduced the numbers and deducted what only fans would take, once the results came in John's eyes opened wide, his new body was making him at least three hundred thousand dollars which was insane.
-"Dat explains the apartment..." John thought as he left the calculator app and opened safari again, with new curiosity brimming in his mind John looked at Jarell's posts, a few of them were solo body exploration type videos, solo masturbation, and use of toys like dildos but the majority of them included sex with another guy, there were even ones where he was with groups of guys being fucked and fucking casually without a care in the world.
These videos instead of being disturbing made John more comfortable with his new body, the life of a nurse was certainly hard and the pay wasn't good when working in a small rural hospital, with this new body John could live a life of pleasure and luxury with just exposing his ass and dick to a camera or a crowded club, even if he would become older with time the amount of money he was now making would be enough to live hundreds of years.
-"Dis ain half bad..." John thought as he left the safari app and continued exploring the phone, he found a few apps that he didn't previously use like TikTok and Instagram, as he opened them and looked at their contents his life as John slowly disappeared out of his mind, the life of a gay white guy born in the Midwest was replaced by the hardships of growing up as gay and black to a poor family in NYC.
Superior education was replaced by dancing routines, exercise, and working in the family business.
Leaving once he had reached the legal age that permitted him to work in sexually related jobs, ever since then it had been a constant climb to the top but Jarell had succeeded.
He was now a popular stripper at a local large gay club that paid well, his only fans job gave him the money he needed to live in luxury while still being able to help his family which were weary at first of his sex work and even his sexuality but quickly started supporting him.
He even got modeling gigs here and there that helped the bank even more, by the time John had searched everything he could about his new self the identity and memories of Jarell Marcus finally became dominant and eliminated the last vestiges of John Muller.
-"Shit is late!" Jarell thought as he threw his phone at the bed and walked down the stairs that lead towards the ground floor while still fully naked, his ass and pecs bounced up and down pleasurably with each step.
-"Better get somethin to eat before the gym" Jarell thought as he opened the fridge and retrieved one of his pre-planned meals, before he could eat it tough an already recognizable noise echoed all over the apartment, Jarell smiled and ran up the stairs with full determination shining in his eyes.
Once he reached the second level Jarell jumped on his bed and grabbed the phone, the noise he had heard was a Pole notification about a guy that just messaged him, it was a muscled arab looking guy that lived a few blocks away.
Jarell looked at the screen and started to plan out his day -"Gotta go to da gym, do a photo shoot and be at the club at five for rehearsals..." After a few minutes, Jarell smiled and accepted the guy's request.
-"I've got time" Jarell thought as he imagined the pounding he was about to receive which made his hole and dick twitch in anticipation.
Glad to see you having some time off work and getting some much needed rest. I kind of have a selfish request if that's alright. My boyfriend is not as into muscle as I am, so I am kind of wondering if you could help me out. Would it be possible to make me into the perfect man for him? I love him so much but he likes skinner twink body styles and I want to understand why, bells and whistles included I want to really get into what makes smaller skinny guys so hot. Heh maybe make him into my perfect man ripped and bulgy in all the right places too haha.
Oh haven't had such a nice double change for my Chronivac in a while. Let's start from the bottom, meaning with your favorite top, or rather your boyfriend. You said you're into muscle? And that you want your man to be your perfect guy? Ripped and bulgy? I'd love to say that's a tall order, but I'm not gonna lie to somewhat so nice.
I think I have the shortcut for one of those transformations laying around in a folder somewhere. So you probably want a big set of pillow pecs to cuddle into and we'll gonna do just that. An enormous set of muscle tits, capped off with thick chewy nipples for you to play with, right out the door. Next we'll go for a pair of muscled, vascular arms to hold you tight against that comfy chest. Nothing better than a hug from 22 inch arms while you're trying to doze off.
A wide set of shoulders for you to be thrown over like a bag of potatoes are also a nice touch. You may find you man a lot more demanding and dominant, though I'm sure you won't mind too much. Can't have your ideal muscle hunk be too much of a wuss after all. Don't worry, he's still gonna be kind and caring normally, but that guy knows what he wants and with muscles like that he's gonna get it when he's horny. Let's have a look at your new and improved boyfriend.
Kinda cute, don't you agree? I paired his boyish face with some masculine male models, can't go wrong with a youthful looking muscle hunk. And a quick read on his mind tells me that he's currently popping that arm sized boner (I might have gone a bit overboard with that and the swollen orange sized bull nuts. Sorry for that) just thinking about getting big for you. So yeah, I think it's safe to say that he's now just as much into muscle as you. Though I guess he's more about getting his muscles worshiped by you.
Speaking of which, I think I'll give you a lesson on why he prefers small twinks.
First off I feel like he gets hard just thinking about how much bigger he is next to you. And you really can't blame for that. I very much understand loving the feeling of having a little twink eye level with your nipples, looking down at them getting smothered into the bulging chest you built just for that purpose. And you remember me mentioning how he wants to fling you over his wide shoulders? Would be a bit tough to fit you there if you're too big. And I think the feeling of your little hands roaming over his expansive body will never fail to get that anaconda of his hard. Trust me, I made sure of it.
Secondly I think you'll soon understand one of the main selling points of twinks. I'm of course speaking of that stereotypical fat bubble butt bouncing behind your much skinnier body now. I didn't make you too skinny, don't worry, just a lithe gymnast build so your new bullfriend can bend you into any position he wants as when he fucks your new and improved hole. For both your and his pleasure I made sure you're always tight as a keyhole, but also able to accommodate that horsecock I "accidentally" gave him.
Don't know if he prefers your ass or mouth, so I made sure to also give you thick, pouty Dick Sucking Lips, got rid of your gag reflex and also gave you a long, dexterous tongue for you to really savor that amazing schlong of his. Another one of the allures of twinks I guess.
I think that's about everything I'm gonna be telling you about that topic for now. I'll leave you to figure out the rest for yourself when your boyfriend comes home, just as eager to explore your holes as you are to explore his muscles.
I sighed as the flashing lights came on behind us. Jordan always drove like an idiot and now the two of us would be late for the party plus, as usual, I’d be expected to sort out the mess so he didn’t get another ticket and get grounded by his old man.
Jordan looked at me with a hopeful expression, grinned and said “You know what to do dude! Sort this one out for me and I’ll make it worth your while.”
I gave him a weary look and punched him on his meaty arm to show I was annoyed but of course I agreed to help out and he indicated to pull over onto the shoulder.
As soon as we’d stopped, the cop car pulled in behind us and to my surprise, instead of the grizzled fat old guy that usually hefted themselves out of the car, a fucking hot young cop got out and swaggered over to the Jordan’s window. I began to think that I might get some pleasure out of this after all and prepared to make my move.
“License and registration please, Sir.” Said the cop in a sexy bass, leaning in, his hand on the window frame presumably to sniff out any pot we might have in the car.
As Jordan fumbled in the glove box and pulled out his documents, I prepared to make my move. At the moment, he handed the papers to the cop, I touched my hand against Jordan’s right arm and pushed myself through his body, forcing his hand to reach out and grab the cop’s wrist. Before the cop could pull back, I completed my move and with an exhilarating, rushing sensation, I surged through Jordan’s body and into the cop in one quick move.
Instantly, my perspective changed and I felt the cop’s constricting uniform pressing against my body, the bulk of his utility belt at my waist and, most pleasurable of all, a significant package sitting in my boxer shorts.
Stretching myself out inside the cops head, I assumed control of his mind, body and memories and then winked at Jordan and give him a shit eating grin.
“Did it work?” he asked.
“Of course it worked!” I replied. “But Sir, you’re in some deep shit” I said putting on a no nonsense, gruff tone of voice. “The only way you’re getting out of this ticket” I continued “is if you, uh, do me a little uh, favour.”
Jordan looked puzzled. “A favour. What do you mean? And what about the cop’s partner in the car bro?” Jordan asked nodding his head in the direction of the car parked behind him with its lights still flashing.
“I’m on solo patrol today Sir” I replied curtly. “So there’s no one else here but me. And sleeping beauty of course” I said, indicating towards my unconscious body slumped to one side on the passenger seat as if dozing peacefully.
Deciding to take control of the situation, I unzipped the flies on my uniform pants and feeling the cops, sizeable cock coming to life, pulled it out through the opening in his boxer shorts and waved it enticingly in Jordan’s face.
Jordan licked his lips. “Well, uh, officer,” he said, leaning forward and grinning at me “In that case, I guess I’ve got no choice have I?”
I moved closed to the car, my heavy boots planted firmly on the asphalt and my cock squeezed pleasurably through the confining opening of my uniform pants. In a moment the driver side door was open and I felt my best bro’s hot lips against my waiting cock head before I thrust deftly into the warm waiting caress of his mouth and let him work my hot cop load out with his eager tongue. Perhaps Jordan’s bad driving wasn’t such a big deal after all!
