Trey walked up the stairs to his apartment door, still tired from todayâs shoot. He was looking forward to slumping down on his couch and winding down. He loved his job, but it did mean having to sit through a few long, exhausting days every now and then. As he stepped through the door, his boyfriend called out to him from the living room. âHey babe, how was work?â He got up from the couch to greet him at the door. âFine,â Trey replied, going in for a kiss. âThe photographer was a bit annoying, he kept asking me to re-do this one shot that wasnât even that important.â âHe mustâve wanted to keep you longer. Canât blame him,â his boyfriend replied with a smirk.
Trey smiled at the comment. Chase always knew how to cheer him up. Most of his friends were surprised when he told them they were dating: a model, with an average-looking office worker? The truth is, they were both Hunks. Trey still remembers how he met him at the bar, how he was attracted to him even if he wasnât really his type. That changed quickly though, as when he brought him home and they both turned, they had the hottest sex heâd ever had. That was over a year ago, and they were now happily living together in their flat.
âI think I know what would cheer you up,â Chase whispered, going in for another kiss. âNot tonight, Iâm really tired,â Trey replied. âIâm gonna take a shower then order us dinner.â âBut you want to, donât you?â Chase smiled as he grabbed his package. âThis is telling me you do.â Trey was already feeling his cock stiffen at the idea. He loved when his boyfriend got cocky, and Chase knew it very well. âChase, these are designer clothes, be careful-â âDoesnât that make it hotter?â Trey pulled away from him, already feeling something stir inside of him. âGoddammit, Chase.â He could hear him giggling behind him.
He made his way towards their bedroom, head already getting cloudy. He had a very high libido, which was often an issue with his condition. It barely took anything for him to start turning, especially when his body felt the need for it, which seemed to be right now. He felt his neck and shoulders tense up, slowly stretching as his transformation began. His walk got unsteady as his legs stretched too, adding some height onto his already tall 5â11 frame. He looked down as he felt his feet cramp up, and saw his boat shoes stretching slowly. He hurriedly kicked them off and moaned slightly as his feet lengthened further on the floor. He moved his right hand to his ass, feeling it enlarge, becoming the signature hunky bubble butt. Meanwhile, he moved his left hand to feel his left pec blowing up, teasing his sensitive nipple through the fabric of his tightening shirt. âOh fuck!â he whimpered, shakily unbuttoning his shirt, starting from the top, to avoid it ripping in any way. His thickening and lengthening fingers struggled to move the tiny pieces through the holes, but he did manage to free his heaving pecs.
He stumbled through the door to their bedroom and quickly stood in front of his full length mirror. He ran a hand across his huge pecs, feeling how soft yet firm they were, giving a little bounce. The show off mindset was already setting in. He brought up one of his arms, flexing his growing bicep. He cupped it with his other hand, moaning from pleasure. However, as he lowered his eyes again, he saw the bottom of his abs poking under his shirt, the lower half of it stretched along his thickening core. He quickly unbuttoned the remaining buttons, letting his sculpted upper body breathe freely. He took off his shirt completely, his large hands and forearms barely squeezing through the sleeves. As his shirt fell to the floor, he felt another pain, this time in his lower half, and saw the button of his pants strained against his growing erection. He undid it before it could rip through, letting his underwear and cock spill onto the front of his jeans. His member seemed to be at 6 or 7 inches already, and it wasnât even fully hard yet. Below it, his thighs were getting bigger and bigger, straining his pants so they stopped well above his ankles, although maybe that was because of his new height of 6â2. He slid them down slowly, careful not to accidentally rip them with his powerful legs. As he stepped out of them, his dick flopped out of his underwear, the swelling head forming its first drop of pre. Pulling down his briefs, he looked up at his already handsome face in the mirror to see the last of the changes, his jaw getting squarer, features smoothening, eyes becoming clearer, hair settling into a perfect slightly messy hairstyle. If he modeled with that face heâd make a fortune, but he couldnât, for obvious reasons. Being permanently horny on set would be anything but professional. Like any other Hunk, he became practically feral when he turned.
He was already starting to lose his senses, his thoughts replaced with sex and hot guys, one in particular. As his underwear landed on the floor and his transformation subsided, T, the Hunk, turned towards the door to his bedroom to see Chase waiting for him, completely naked and smirking at him. Tâs dick was pointed right at him, 8 and a half inches of pure man meat drooling pre-cum on the floor. T lunged at him and pulled him towards the bed, hungrily kissing him. Chase was kissing him back just as strongly, as if impatient for his own transformation to begin.
T grabbed Chase by the shoulders and pushed him on the bed, crawling on top of him. Chase flipped himself around, smirking slightly while propping his ass up, inviting his boyfriend to come inside. T wasted no time, positioning his large tool over it, rubbing it over the hole a few times before entering it softly. Tightly gripping the sheets, Chase was breathing heavily, feeling heat swell inside him. His already hard 5-inch cock started leaking pre-cum onto the covers while becoming ever so sensitive, head swelling bigger. He could hear Tâs soft moans in sync with their repeated motion; pleasure overwhelmed him as his body started changing. With each of Tâs pumps into his ass, he could feel his body stretching taller, his meager 5â8 slowly becoming 5â9, then 5â10 and 5â11. His ass became plumper, tightening the grip on Tâs cock and getting him to moan more intensely. Below that, his legs kept inching longer, thighs getting thicker, small feet blowing up and lengthening, toes creeping closer to the edge of the bed. Chase kept squirming slightly to allow his torso some room while his back stretched upwards and sideways; his shoulders broadened in the process, the weird feeling causing Chase to let go of the sheets. He grabbed them again soon after, though, as his arms ballooned with muscles, growing biceps, widening forearms and swelling hands clutching the sheets hard, almost ripping them off with his newfound strength. Chase used his new powerful arms to prop himself up, allowing him to look down at his pecs while they grew, swelled into two round peaks of muscle. He also saw the start of his abs forming below. Meanwhile, T got a nice view of his back muscles, sculpting in front of his eyes.
Suddenly, something shifted in the energy between them. Chaseâs asscheeks grew bigger again, but got hard with muscle, essentially squeezing his boyfriendâs dick between them. T was no longer pushing forward, it was Chase that was pulling him in. Chaseâs face shifted with his expression, jaw getting squarer, features getting brutish and handsome as a naughty smile slipped on his plump lips, knowing full well he was moments from being in control. His legs were still stretching, thighs growing to become huge tree trunks below his boyfriendâs legs, which were looking less and less threatening. His feet were now bigger than Tâs, still swelling with powerful muscle. As his torso stretched again, letting him reach a height of about 6â2, the same as T, he rose up all of a sudden, arms growing bigger again to allow him such a feat. He dislodged his boyfriend from his ass right before he could cum, using his surprise to turn him around and pin him down in front of him.
Chaseâs, or rather, Chadâs hands were on Tâs, fingers still swelling to give him a stronger grip. Getting on his knees to allow his lengthening feet to dangle off the bed, he positioned his own cock above his boyfriendâs ass. As if it knew, it grew from its regular 5 inches to 6, then 7 inches, pushing out pre-cum in the process, which landed on Tâs ass. The Hunk shuddered in pleasure and anticipation, being so close to cumming and yet now desperately needing Chadâs dick inside him. Chadâs face finished shifting as he leaned next to his boyfriendâs face, whispering in his ear: âItâs my turn nowâŚâ He promptly jammed his cock between Tâs soft asscheeks, yet managed to be delicate. He started softly humping it forwards, feeling the missing length being added little by little, with it reaching 7 and a half inches, then 8 inches, causing both of them to moan out loudly. His body wasnât done growing, as each thrust forwards added even more height to his impressive stature. His thighs were monstrous by then, his pecs were heaving up and down and his abs were almost done forming into an 8-pack. As he finally reached the height of 6â5, and a penis length of 9 inches, he finally felt close to release. T was overwhelmed with pleasure at this point, as he always was when they switched like this. Chad kept thrusting, feeling his dick grow, edging slowly towards release. Finally, as Chadâs cock reached its final size of 9 and a half inches, both Hunks bellowed out their loudest moans as they came simultaneously, Chad pulling out instants before in order to cover Tâs back in his cum, while T sprayed the sheets below with his own. Then, the two spent Hunks crumbled on the bed, Chad putting his arms around T and forming the big spoon around him.
-----
Trey and Chase kept spooning for a little while longer while they turned back, gradually shifting their position until Trey was the big spoon instead. As both of their dicks finally softened, Chase turned to look in his boyfriendâs eyes, still smiling from their encounter. Trey chuckled slightly, running his fingers through his hair: âYou gotta be careful, you know. One day, you might actually get me to rip through something important.â Chase kept smiling as he answered: âI gotta keep you on your toes! Always expect the unexpected!â He was still joking, but his expression darkened a bit, his smile slowly slipping off his face. âSometimes, I worry youâll get bored of me if I donât.â Trey cradled his hand under Chaseâs chin, propping his head up so he stared into his eyes. âI could never get bored of you. Youâre the only part of my day I look forward to.â Trey might not be a poet, but he knew how to get Chaseâs smile back. âNow, how about that shower? We can get cleaned up and then eat somewhere nice, what do you say?â Chase nodded, knowing their nice evening together was just getting started.
I stumble across rent a thing pretty late at night. Iâm sleep deprived and horny so I give a brief skim through of the website not paying too much attention. So I can rent out any object I own? Immediately my horny mind goes to my well used fleshlight. Thoughts of a jock using my fleshlight flood my mind and I know I need to fill out the website.
Profile: Iâm a little confused why they need a pic of me but I send a pic of myself anyways (A skinny twink in his early 20s)
Object: I scroll down to sex objects and select fleshlight
Duration: Its pretty worn out and might break if its used too hard. Immediately I think of a big cock breaking my fleshlight open. I select custom and put in, until it breaks.
Special request: I type in a jock with a big cock.
Before I submit my request I give the website another quick scan. Wait did that say Iâd be turned into the object? I shake my head, that doesnât even make sense, I must be really sleep deprived. I click send on my request. Still as I try to go to sleep I canât get the thought of actually turning into a fleshlight out of my head.
Rent-A-Thing â Fleshlight
The next morning, you get up early. It's a busy Saturday, as usual. First gym, treadmill to maintain your skinny physique. Then, hair stylist. You greet Pearl, your platonic BFFFFF with a kiss on the cheek. She's not the only reason you visit the hair stylist twice a week, but it helps.
As Pearl begins to work on your rainbow-colored hair, you begin to yap about everything new that happened to you during the last three days of your exciting life. Of course, having neither shame nor secrets from Pearl, you also mention the website you found yesterday, Rent-A-Thing.
"No way!" she gasps and her scissors clack. "Honey, you're impossible. You want to lend someone your fleshlight?! And you put up a profile, with a picture of your face? Gurl, I would die!"
"Yep!" you grin. "Used the same pic I've got on my Grindr. Imagine the guy's face when he comes to collect his fleshlight."
You don't mention your fantasy of actually becoming the sex toy. You don't have secrets from Pearl, but you don't need the entire salon to know your kinky fantasies. That's where you draw the line. They'd have to buy you a cocktail first.
You have a good laugh with Pearl before you proceed to the tanning salon.
You have just arrived back home in the afternoon when your phone rings. It's Pearl.
"Oh. My. God. You won't believe it!" she exclaims the moment you accept. In the background, you hear an unfamiliar chime coming from your phone.
"I just had a customer who was a total hunk. I'm talking beefcake here, gurl!"
You snort and get comfortable. "Okay? Tell me everything!"
Pearl leaves nothing out.
"Oh my gawd. So, he's a total hunk. Huge, tall, muscular. He's like, I swear, I think he could crush me with his hands! And these tattoos! So, anyway. We chatted a bit, and I told him about this website, and he was all, 'No way!' and I said, 'Yes way! And my gay best friend is on it, too,' and I gave him your name..."
"Hold on. You gave Mr. Hunk my name?! And he's hot?"
You subconsciously lick your lips. This is hardly the first time Pearl has set you up with someone, and she has really good taste.
"So, what did he say?"
"He's coming to get your fleshlight," she chirps, and you can't help but giggle. "His name is Sean, by the way."
"Oh, honey, he's gonna get so much more than an old fleshlight."
Just then, the doorbell rings.
"Oh my gawd! I think this is him," you swoon.
"You have to tell me everything, gurl!" Pearl says. Feeling a bit naughty, you mute the speaker but leave the call and the mic open, putting your phone face down on the table. You'll end it before it gets too personal. Probably. The doorbell rings again.
"I'm coming!" you call, and open the door. Wow. A-wow. Pearl was not wrong. You lick your lips again.
"Hello, sir, how can I help you?"
The tall man standing in the doorway smiles and looks down at you.
"Hey, I'm here to collect."
He's got a deep voice, and there's a hint of playfulness in his smile. His eyes scan you from head to toe. Without waiting for you, he enters.
"Collect what, sir?"
"Don't play dumb," he says. Your eye falls on his pants.
"Huh. Is that a gun, or are you happy to see me?"
You didn't plan on saying that, but the man just chuckles darkly.
"You don't get an offer like that every day," he says and readjusts himself. "So, you wanna be my fleshlight until you break apart? Is that it?"
Your eyes widen, and you think back to the phone on the table. You don't have secrets from Pearl. She knows all about your kinks. Even so, you can't help but blush a bit.
"That's what the website said," you nod.
"Hm. I liked it better when you called me sir."
You bite your lower lip. This is hot.
"So, uh, sir. Would you like to, um, test me out, or what?"
His grin is wolfish.
"Yeah. Get on your knees."
He pulls out a phone and presses a green "Claim" button. You drop to your knees, and before you know it, he's opened his belt and let his pants slide down his hips. You're greeted by the largest, most delicious dick you've ever seen, and it's right in front of your face.
"What are you waiting for? Open your mouth, fleshlight!"
"Yes, sir!" you grin and open your mouth. The fleshlight fantasy is doing a lot for you, and you are rock hard in your tight and stylish pants as well. Your head feels dizzy, and you wonder what Pearl thinks. So much for ending the call before it gets too personal.
The man doesn't hesitate and grabs the back of your head, shoving it onto his cock with surprising strength. You're an expert at deep-throating and let him slip all the way in as he presses your face to his groin. This is how a real fleshlight must feel.
Almost immediately, you feel him pulling on your hair, pulling you almost off his dick again, before reversing again.
"Yeah, that's a good little fucktoy," he growls.
The words are like fuel on the fire. You're not sure if you're feeling particularly lightheaded from the lack of air, but your head feels strange. All sensation concentrates on your mouth and your throat. Your jaw starts to feel strange, and not the kind of strange that comes from a deep-throating workout. Something is happening.
With every thrust, your body gets lighter and smaller, disappearing entirely into your head. It's a good thing Sean is holding your head, because after a few more thrusts, there is nothing else left to hold you. His grip changes, and from the corner of your eye, you can see all rainbow-colored hair falling out, leaving you smooth and... hard? At the same time, your lips puff out in silicone, and your throat straightens. The silicone grows inward, coating the tight space inside you.
It's a weird feeling, being a fleshlight. But it's not an unpleasant feeling. Actually, quite the opposite. You feel useful, and the thought of having a huge, throbbing dick in you is the only thing on your mind. Sean is moaning loudly now as he pounds you like a jackhammer, without any mercy. His grip on your outer shell is strong and manly, and you can feel the material dent under his hands.
"Fuck yes. Such a good fucktoy. I'm gonna use the hell out of you," Sean says. His voice is hoarse and thick with lust.
Finally, with a last big thrust, his grip becomes even tighter. You can feel a hair fissure forming just as he cums inside you. Or, not inside you. Inside the silicone cavity.
"Oh yeah. Fuck. That was nice," he pants, and you can feel his dick growing softer. Then, suddenly, it disappears. You feel empty.
"I'm gonna use you every fucking day until you break, little fucktoy. You like that, don't you?"
You wish you could tell him, but there's no way. You are a fleshlight now, and nothing else.
Your owner does as he told you. Mercilessly, he uses your silicone form every day. It's all you have to live for. It's your purpose in life, and you love it. He's brutal and doesn't care for you. Every time you break a bit more, become more of your owner's property. You'll give it a few months, tops, until you break. And you doubt that when you turn back after that, you'll want to do anything but pleasure your owner ever again.
What an excellent prompt! Thank you for that! I'm getting to a more sustainable pace in answering the many, many requests for getting turned into an object. Which means that every ask I've got in backlog (that I feel like doing), will take a bit of time. In other news, fleshlight is gone from the list now (I actually have one more lined up, but that asker is not to blame!). If you want more context, check out the beginning!
Weâd been together for two years and he was always the cute, energetic 19-year-old, a lean, boyish face, messy brown hair, always joking about how heâd ânever get old.â I loved him like crazy, but a dark little fantasy kept growing in the back of my mind. I wanted to see him bigger. Older. More⌠man.
So I used it. The same reality-warping app I swore Iâd never touch again after I made myself into a jock in school. I set the parameters carefully: make him 20 years older, give him the body of a veteran rugby player whoâs spent years smashing into other big men on the pitch. More muscle, more hair, more weight. A proper daddy build. And I made sure he wouldnât notice the change to him, it would feel like heâd always been this way.
I hit confirm while he was in the shower.
The sounds that came from the bathroom were filthy. Deep groans, wet slapping skin, his voice cracking and then dropping lower and lower until it was a rich, gravelly baritone. When the door finally opened, my jaw dropped.
He stepped out completely naked, water still dripping down his thick, hairy chest. Heâd ballooned. His once-smooth torso was now covered in dense dark hair that trailed down over a solid, rounded muscle gut. His shoulders were massive and rounded, arms thick and powerful, legs like tree trunks. His face had aged beautifully: sharper jaw, crowâs feet, a receding hairline that left him with a perfectly smooth, shiny bald head. He looked like a proper 39-year-old rugby beast.
âAlright babe?â he rumbled, voice sending shivers down my spine. To him, nothing was different. This was just another Sunday.
We went to the park for the usual touch rugby game with our mates. Except now he was one of the biggest guys on the pitch. The way he ran, the way he tackled, the way his heavy, hairy body slammed into others⌠it was intoxicating. After the game we all collapsed on the grass, laughing, covered in sweat and grass stains.
Thatâs when a friend took the photo.
There he is, my boyfriend, now my big, bald, hairy rugby daddy and I, lounging on the grass with a plastic cup of beer in his meaty hand. His thick, furry chest is on full display, belly rounding out as he leans back, striped socks pulled up his powerful calves. Heâs smiling that same cheeky smile, completely oblivious that just a few hours ago he was a smooth, skinny 19-year-old.
He caught me staring and grinned wider, reaching over to squeeze my thigh with one big, calloused hand.
âOi, you alright? Youâve been looking at me funny all day,â he chuckled, voice deep and warm.
I swallowed hard, feeling myself get hard again just looking at the thick hair swirling around his nipples, the way his belly moved when he laughed, the sheer mass of him.
If only he knew.
He took another swig of beer, completely at home in his new older, heavier body, while I sat there secretly throbbing at the knowledge that Iâd stolen twenty years from him without him ever realising.
And the worst part?
I already wanted to make him even bigger and older.
After Myron's growth spurt, Miguel takes him to his tailor for a wardrobe update. Late for work, and still pent up from their recent activities, Miguel finds a surprise piece of Myron's clothing in his bag, and just like Ty, he faces explosive consequences.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 (Previous) | 9 (Next)
Also on Metabods
male TF // growth // dick growth // pec growth // bubble butt // nsfw
4908 words
(I was inspired to play around with some pec growth by this ask a little while back. It was fun!)
---
âDo these make my butt look big?â
I struggled for words. âI think we left âbigâ behind a long time ago,â I said, watching Myron check himself out in the dressing room stall, clad in a pair of chinos with a cartoonishly oversized waist that still managed to strain against his cartoonishly oversized butt cheeks. His curvy form being reproduced three times in the tri-fold mirror lent itself to a funhouse effect, as if he could step out and instantly return to the sensible, pert bubble he once had. Not that I would ever want that to happen. Having his already ridiculous monster booty inflate in real time while I was inside him was one of the greatest things thatâs ever happened to me personally. It took everything in my power to extricate myself from between those cheeks this morning and my dick jumped against its triple security confines at the thought of once again getting to bury my face in that posterior. I knew I was an ass man but even this was beyond my wildest dreams. I was addicted.
Myron wore his stretchiestâand really onlyâoption out of the house, a pair of plaid leggings that didnât so much hug his curves as fight for dear life against the beach ball buns spilling out of the waistband more and more with each step. He tied a light hoodie around his waist to at least hide the top of his pink bikini briefs, though it didnât do much to mitigate his ass from being on display. He even had a minor struggle fitting into my car, adjusting and readjusting the passenger seat to accommodate his long legs, tree trunk thighs, and voluptuous bottom. Another potential problem to solve.
âIâm seeing a lot of elastic waistbands in your future,â said Val, studying Myronâs physique with a scientific eye. Val had been my go to tailor for years, long before these changes had made it nigh impossible to shop for pants at a normal department store. She ran what she called a âgender expansive menswear experience,â always looked the definition of dapper, and specialized in catering to a plethora of unique body types. She was also very down to give us some special attention on this slow morning after I explained Myronâs situation. âOh I love a challenge!â she had exclaimed over the phone.
And Myron was a challenge she jumped to as soon as we walked in. As he suffered through a stack of ill-fitting slacks, jeans, trunks, and at least one asymmetrical short skirt that worked surprisingly well, she vocalized an ongoing calculus of fabric amounts, hip to waist ratios, and design patterns that might emphasize or de-emphasize his wild proportions. She was in the zone, whipping around her tape measure with a professional flair and handling Myronâs body with a gentle, open intimacy that he seemed like he grew to appreciate.
As we left the store, with not exactly success, but at least some optionsâand a set of new tailoring projects for Val to dig intoâI noticed more confidence in his walk. I couldnât tell if it was the awkwardness of his sudden growth spurt or the weight of open stares from onlookers, but he had seemed deeply self conscious on our way in that was thankfully fading on our way out. Between his wildly upsized lower body and my freakish bulge, we were both letting go of the luxury of blending in. We held hands and rolled with it.Â
We got back to his place with just enough time to make some coffee and get me into some professional clothes before running off to the office. I had barely shut the door before Myron spun around and planted his hands on the wall on either side of my head, looking hungrily down at me. It was weird seeing him from this new angle, his gentle, inquisitive gaze falling over me like a protective cloak. I was already liking this new dynamic. âThanks again,â he said, and leaned down for an indulgent kiss.Â
âItâs the least I could do with all the trouble Iâve caused,â I said, then returned the favor and pressed my lips against his. My hands rested on his hips like they were always meant to be there. I caressed the expanse of one ass cheek, still marveling at its sheer size, while he cupped one of my pecs and gave it a hearty squeeze. I moaned, louder than I meant to. They were so sensitive lately, and felt uncomfortable in my shirt. âBut,â reluctantly breaking the kiss, âWeâre both late for work. You want coffee?â
He waddled off in mock dejection as I slipped into his room to get dressed. I had a few versatile options stashed away in his wardrobe. Did my clothes really occupy an entire drawer? When did that happen? I was already running late, so I arranged something basic and reasonably business casual, though all my shirts felt a little tighter than I usually liked. I guess I wasnât the only one making some gains in the gym.
By the time I returned to the kitchen to get beans grinding and the kettle on, Myron had whipped off everything except for his bikini briefs and proceeded to station himself at his standing desk and boot up his laptop. I envied whatever work from home contract gig he had most recently stumbled into and his resultant freedom from spending the rest of the day with multiple layers of constrictive fabric. But really my eyes rested longingly on the briefs stretched tight against his prodigious ass, my dick jumping in my sweats as he hinged his hips back and rested on his elbows.
âJust coffee?â he asked. âYouâre not hungry?â We locked eyes and he gave his ass just enough of a shake to set off a tremor of jiggling cheek.
â...Well Iâm already late.â
â
I moseyed into my office already dreaming of the next time I would have the privilege of eating the juiciest peach on the planet. I settled onto my exercise ball and opened my email, seeing if anything was on fire in my absence.Â
A lazy knock on the door was followed by the shaggy auburn mane of Wes peeking in.
âMissed you earlier,â he said, with that easy smile.Â
âRight, you were washing today! Yeah, I had kind of an emergency with myâŚâ What were Myron and I? I don't think we'd had a chance to discuss it yet. â... with my, umââ
âOh dude, don't worry about that,â he laughed. âThat's not why I'm here. I actually just need your old key to the maintenance rooms in the basement. I'm updating the locks. I don't know if you saw my email.â
There it was on my screen, fourth from the top. I was one of the lucky few to be trusted with maintenance access, a responsibility I held sacred and never actually used.
âOf course, yeah yeah yeah,â I said, digging through my bag and pulling out not a key but a pair of very familiar crumpled underwear. I shoved them into a drawer before Wes could notice. How did those get in there? I continued digging until I finally produced the item in question.
âThanks man.â He grabbed the key and gave me a fist bump. His knuckle tatts spelled out R-E-A-L. I wondered what the other hand said. âI'll, uh, see you out there,â he said, glancing towards the windows, then winked and slipped out the door.
These days, my dick turns into a faucet at the slightest hint of arousal, which truth be told is effectively all the time, so I usually pack a backup or two of my specially-fitted underwear to slip into so I donât end up awkwardly cleaning precum off my desk chair. But I guess with all the weirdness that morning, I had accidentally grabbed Myronâs used briefs from yesterdayâs incident at the gym. Which was weird because I didnât remember rooting around in his hamper for this specific piece of clothing.
Just like I didnât remember pulling them back out of my desk drawer and holding them just close enough to my face to catch a whiff of Myronâs compelling musk. Ty really did have a point, I couldnât help but admit. My face had just been buried in Myronâs ass, but there was something magnetic about these residual pheromones. My dick jumped in anticipation.
Too early for this, I thought. I dropped his drawls in the bottom drawer, the one full of miscellaneous files with the janky handle, and closed it with finality, resolving to get through the rest of the day without distraction. I only had my one outfit to last me through the rest of the workday, and I wasnât in the mood to sneak out with my pants soaked in my homemade lube (again). The realization that I missed my usual âappointmentâ with Wes came with the realization that after all the festivities last night and this morning, I still hadn't cum. As much as I enjoyed servicing Myron and the Giant Peach, I was pent up, and so used to my exhibitionist dynamic with Wes that I felt I couldn't clear the pipes unless he was out there washing the windows. I had missed that opportunity. My balls began to churn with overproduction, frustrated at being teased multiple times in the past twelve hours with no relief. My dick felt heavy. Heavier than usual.
My whole body felt pressurized. My crotch had grown hot and constricted, but my shirt had followed suit. It felt so tight across my chest, my extra sensitive nipples delighting in the increased friction. I got up to stretch and clear my hand, pacing around my office and taking in the view of the surrounding high rises reflecting a clear sky belied by herds of thunderclouds rolling across the landscape miles away. I looked down to check my phone and instead saw that I had Myronâs underwear twirling between my fingers, just inches from my nose. When had I pulled these out of the drawer? But I turned around to see it apparently untouched. I unconsciously brought them closer to my face. They had a scent that was magnetic and threatened to occupy all my sensory attention. I breathed deep, indulging in the smell of him, warmth resonating across my body as I fantasized about the next time I could bury my face between those cheeks.
I know. I should've seen this coming.
I was jolted back to reality by a short, staccato knock on the door. Not fully closed by my last visitor, it drifted open to allow Josh, our comms specialist, to lean in with one quick motion into a scene, not of me working at my desk, but meandering around my office with my nose in his former co-workerâs panties. In the half second I had available, I snatched them from my face, and, with no other immediate options, shoved them into my pants.
âThe intern workshop is starting now, almost out of donuts,â he said with a wink. Intern workshop was an out of date misnomer from when Josh first started with us and was mistakenly referred to as the intern far too often. Largely because of a youthful, eager demeanor and the crime of being chronically online. Occasionally, we start our all-team meetings early with a social media, marketing, and PR update from him. He tells us what's trending that month and I bring my basket full memes that I need explained. I had forgotten that this was one of those days and relented at his insistence that I tag along with him to the conference room, following him into the hall with Myronâs briefs hidden in my pants, a light tingle beginning to spread across my groin.
Hindsight. 20/20.
âDude,â he continued in the hallway. âYou've got to tell me your routine, your chest is looking great. Wish I could fit a workout in before work.â
âOh, I didn't make it toââ I self-consciously grabbed my right pec, â--the gym this morningâŚâ It felt noticeably juicier. Like I had a good pump. A great pump.
I dutifully followed Josh's perky bottom to the conference room, eyes fixed on the swish of his hips in his fitted pants. Everyone in the office had an oddly nice ass, for reasons unknown to anyone but obvious for me, but Josh's tight, perfectly round posterior was always a sight to behold, and always showcased in expertly tailored pants that fit like a glove on his short, svelte frame. I've always wondered if he also frequented Val's doorstep.
Everyone was already settled in the conference room (they were out of donuts), and I grabbed the last seat around the table, toward the back, right near the door. Josh did his thing about the latest social media strategy and I tried to maintain some semblance of professional decorum, keeping my gaze on the slides on screen and not just the bubble butt flitting back and forth at the front of the room. But I was still pent up, my balls churning with stronger intensity and my dick feeling heavier and heavier in my pants, not like it was getting hard but just gaining a deeper, stronger presence. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, leaning forward and hinging my hips back to provide more space along my leg. My midsection began to cramp as the tingle in my crotch turned into a generalized heat. My chest felt packed against my shirt, my nipples sending little shocks of pleasure with the slightest movements against the fabric. I felt overstimulated, hit by a full body malaise with an undercurrent of sticky sweet pleasure.
Then it clicked. I had seen the clip of Ty's latest growth spurt and got to witness Myronâs incident up close and personal. My heart pounded with the realization that Myronâs powerful pheromones were likely incubating in the warmth between my thighs. I began to have anxious visions of what that meant, of what could happen in the chaos of having an episode in the middle of the office. I imagined myself bursting out of my clothes, my chair collapsing under me, the table being flipped by the force of a superhuman monster cock.Â
The cramps got stronger as I became increasingly hot and uncomfortable in my own skin, fighting against every item of clothing constricting my body. I tried to wait it out, think peaceful thoughts, hold myself energetically together. I thought I could psychically wrestle my dick into stasis until the meeting ended and I could triage the situation. But what is Bruce Banner to the Hulk?
My dick lurched. Didn't get harder, just took up a bit more space. I bit down angrily on my pen to keep from letting out a moan as I felt, vividly, the head sliding against the fabric of the pouch. My pants felt like they were shrinking around my crotch. My body was so uncomfortably hot, eliciting shivers down my spine and along my limbs. And why was my shirt so tight?Â
But Josh was rolling with his presentation (and that ass was keeping me enthralled). I reasoned that I could at least relieve some pressure for the time being. I reached up and undid the first button at my collar as casually as possible, only to find the second locked in place by the pull of the fabric. When did this shirt become so small?? I awkwardly finagled it while trying to put on my best active listener face, but right when I was finally about to succeed, it was simply gone. The relief from a slight decrease in pressure along my chest mixed with terror as I saw the button sail across the room and land in someone's coffee.Â
I froze. Josh froze. Miraculously, no one else noticed. He continued with his presentation and I resolved to form an escape as quickly as possible. My mind was filled with visions of what had happened to Ty and Myron, and as hot as it is to see someone grow in real time, this situation truly was not safe for work. Something serious was brewing, and by the pressure building in my balls, it was going to be messy. I had to find a bathroom or risk a scandal.
I carefully closed my laptop, mentally rehearsing my graceful exit in which I stand up, surreptitiously cover my bulge with my computer, and moonwalk out of there to take care of business. As I rose to my feet, I came to the chilling realization that I had underestimated the sheer size of the appendage distending my pants, hurrying to cover as much as possible with my modestly sized laptop, but not before Joshâs eyes locked on.
âSo I really think this target audience could make for a good pipeline toâŚumâŚa pipelineâŚa pipeâŚâ he stammered, on the verge of speaking in tongues as his eyes widened in disbelief, coming dangerously close to bringing the attention of the rest of the conference room to my predicament.
âYouâre doing great!â I exclaimed, cutting him off and turning smoothly toward the exit. âCanât wait to discuss implementing all of this, soon as I get back.â
I sped through the door and down the hallway, stopping abruptly at the makeshift signs printed and taped to the bathroom doors. âOut of order,â I whispered, anxiety spiking as the crotch of my pants bulged outward a little more.Â
Downstairs! I thought. The single stalls on the ground floor materialized in my mind. I whipped around to find the elevators and slipped through the doors with my laptop still awkwardly situated in front of my overpacked crotch. To my dismay, a gaggle of interns scrambled on one floor below. I squeezed as far as I could into the back corner, and pressed my laptop against the furious bulge that was steadily becoming impossible to hide. It had to be at least five degrees warmer in there from the heat radiating off my overexcited dick. It lurched again. My hair stood on edge, pecs strained against my shirt as I fought back a moan of arousal and dismay.
By the time they got off on the ground floor, I was too terrified to move, convinced that the slightest increase in friction could send me over the edge.
âYou heading back up?â asked Larry, the bright eyed receptionist who appeared from around the doorframe.
âNo, I, uh, need to go check something downstairs,â I lied. âWeâve been having some electrical hiccups in the office.â
âOh thatâs the worst,â he said, holding his hand against the elevator door frame as he continued to recount the buildingâs litany of outages and anomalies. He was effectively holding me hostage.
âOooof,â I whispered as my dick surged forward yet again. I was heading towards a nuclear meltdown.
âRight, right, duty calls,â he said, finally relinquishing his hold and letting the doors close in front of him.
I nearly collapsed out of blessed solitude. I let one hand drift down to investigate the area, eliciting a groan of shock and pleasure. My dick felt big. I mean yes, itâs painfully obvious to myself and the general public that Iâm packing something serious down there. But it felt bigger than it should. Bigger than it felt less than an hour ago. Like it was echoing the essence of bigness on some metaphysical plane, gathering energy around it across multiple dimensions to emerge like Godzilla from the ocean and lay waste to theâ
What the fuck am I talking about? My blood circulation must be cut off. I needed to get out of those pants. The slow drop of the elevator seemed to go on and on, what felt like far beyond the actual height of the building. The walls were closing in, the metal box shrinking around me as it fell through space, the seams of my shirt straining against my chest as what felt like every bit of fabric shrunk with it.
The elevator doors opened on the brutalist liminal space of the basement. I was pretty sure there was a bathroom down here, likely one significantly, dearly private. The only person I knew of who had any reason to be down here wasâ
âWes!â I exclaimed at the cloud of auburn hair that popped up seemingly out of nowhere, toolbox in hand.
âFunny running into you here,â he beamed, giving the scruff on his chin a scratch. âWelcome to my office!â He splayed his arms wide, gesturing warmly to the concrete and fluorescent lights.
âHappy to be here,â I managed, attempting a gracious smile as the beads of sweat on my forehead hinted at the crisis at hand.
âWhere you headed?â He asked, sidling next to me and hovering one finger over the number pad.
âLook, Wes, I actually need to run to the bathroom, the ones upstairs were allââ
âOut of order, yeah. Whole building is. Itâs the issue with the plumbing, did you read the rest of my email? Folks have been heading to the coffee shop next door, I think.â
âAughh,â I whispered, bracing a hand against the wall. My dick lurched again. Angry and boiling hot, it was all I could think about. That and the feeling of my shirt having somehow shrunk several sizes too small. I couldnât focus. I couldnât breathe. I barely string words together. My nipples perked up in response to a cool sensation. I looked down to see two wet spots spreading slowly. Fuck, my chest was swollen, what was going on? I looked like I had the greatest pump of my life. What usually could pass for decently toned pecs were starting to resemble disproportionately juicy slabs of muscle. I couldâve sworn they were inflating slightly with each breath, each involuntarily twitch of muscle. But I didnât have time to speculate further as my abs contracted hard and I doubled over in pain.
I wasnât going to make it to the coffee shop. I wasnât going to make it to the useless basement bathroom. I wasnât going to make it off this elevator.
âYeah, sorry dude. If itâs an emergency, maybe I canâohâŚâ
âItâsâŚitâs too late,â I eked out as my dick lurched even farther down my leg, the sound of stitches popping filling the space of Wesâs stunned silence and my heavy breathing. My shirt grew tighter and tighter with every heartbeat. I felt air against my midsection as it slowly revealed my treasure trail, heard the slow tearing of seams along my shoulders, the periodic ping of buttons flying off and hitting the metal walls. I gripped the door frame with inhuman force. âItâs happening.â
âWh-whatâs happening?â Wes had grown visibly concerned. âWhat can I do?â
âI canâtâŚhold itâŚâ my face a contortion of pleasure and pain.
âCanât hold what?? Should I call someone, or do something, orâŚâ He stepped closer, his eyes entranced by the dark circles against my shirt. My pecs had swollen so large they were blocking the view of the baseball bat tearing apart the stitches of my pants. He held out his hands in support. âMaybe if I justââ
âWait, donâtââ My head lolled back as the pressure along my leg finally became too much to bear and was suddenly replaced with lovely, catastrophic release. The seams gave way and my ungodly beast was freed from its cage, swinging up in a diagonal and catching Wesâs cheek with a mean left hook. He spun around like a ragdoll, landing unceremoniously against the wall.
My prodigious cock, furious and rock hard, bobbed in front of me at a distance that was hard to make sense of. I stared down in terror at a pipe that extended at least a few feet into the air, still managing a slight upward tilt despite its weight. It was too girthy to wrap both hands around. I felt my heart pounding through the massive vein that ran along the shaft. I briefly forgot about Wes lying unconscious on the floor as I gazed in shock at the tree trunk growing from my groin. With one final, monumental shudder, with the last dregs of my mental capacity, I wondered, Did I beat Ty? And came like a firehose.
The force of the first two blasts were enough to knock me off balance, my knees buckling as I fell on my ass. My hands gripped either side of my shaft as if I had any ability to mitigate the cum cannon bucking wildly from my crotch. I painted the ceiling as every muscle fiber of my body worked in unison to fire off each volley of jizz. I was dimly aware that my muscle tits jiggled with more and more heft as my body shook with every shot. I could feel the mass of them expanding across my torso, my sensitive nipples rubbing against what was left of my shirt before that too fell to tatters against my growing muscle tits. But I was gone in a deluge of orgasmic bliss, my brain burned hollow as some untapped reservoir of sexual energy sprung forth. As I lost any sort of mental coherence, I felt like my corporeal form might simply disintegrate into the pool of cum forming around me. I was moaning in sweet release and unrelenting ejaculation.
Countless ropes of cum painted the walls until my never ending orgasm finally let me go, and I collapsed next to Wes. After a minute, he came to, and turned to me with a dreamy smile on his face.
âCan we do that again?â He asked.
The elevator doors opened. And there was Josh.
â
âHey Miguel, I was looking forâŚyouâŚâ he drifted off, taking in the scene. Me, sweaty and kneeling in my tattered pants, holding Wesâs shoulders to prop him up against the wall with what looked like a black eye on the way. I mused internally about how I shouldâve reviewed the office first aid training materials for the exact protocol for a penis exploding so suddenly in size that it accidentally causes a potential concussion. I made a mental note to schedule a training for the entire office soon.
âShit, uh, just wait outside for a sec?â I asked, putting on my best everything-is-totally-fine smile. It didnât work.
âWoah, what happened?â asked Josh incredulously. âWere you attacked? What is this on the floor? What isâŚthatâŚâ He seemed to be mentally connecting the dots as he gazed horror struck at the semi-hard, adrenaline fueled dick resting on the floor between my legs.
I could hear footsteps and voices approaching. Weâre back on the ground floor! Without any other recourse, I pulled him into the elevator and started smashing the button for the basement. The doors closed just in time.
âI'm so fired, I'm so unbelievably fired, no one has ever been more fired,â I said, my fingertips pressing into my temples as if I could telepathically will all of this away as a weird, horny dream. I began to rock back and forth until I was halted by a firm clasp against my bicep. I looked up to see Wes's meaty forearm, his sparkling green and gold eyes.Â
âDeep breath,â he said firmly. âInâŚâ His eyes fluttered closed then looked into mine, imploring me to follow. I took a tentative breath in through my nose. âAnd hold.â He held. âAnd out.â I sighed through my mouth until my lungs felt deflated. âOK, again, you too,â he glances at Josh, who looked less terrified and more uncomfortable about the faux pas of stumbling into this intimate moment. âIn.â Josh took large gulps through his mouth, chest heaving up. âAnd holdâŚand out. We'll work on your technique.â
He turned back to me. âIâve seen weirder things, man. We'll get it sorted. And you,â looking pointedly at Josh, âcan't tell anyone about this. Scout's honor.â
âH-hell yeah,â he said, flourishing an awkward salute. âAnything for the Window Wanker.â
âDid you just come up with that?â Wes chuckled. âThatâs good.â Josh looked on in mild confusion.Â
âThe last thing I need right now is a nickname, but we can workshop it,â I offered, trying to make light of the situation.
âNo, it's just thatâŚâ his brows furrowed. âThat's you, right? Window Wanker. Online.â
My spidey senses tingled. My hair stood on edge.
âWhat do you mean âonline?'â Wes inquired, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
âLike, it's one of my favorite accounts,â said Josh. âI usually don't go for fake hidden camera scenario type stuff, but I've been hooked.â He perked up in enthusiasm. âThe fact that from across the street, you can see how huge that monster isâŚâ His utterance of monster was barely a whisper as his eyes turned to the up close monster laying between my legs. âRespectfully,â he added with a shy smile.
âAcross the streetâŚâ I repeated, just as Wes said â...fake hidden cameraâŚâ
âI mean,â Josh continued, âI could tell you were packing for a while, I have no idea how no one else is talking about it. But I didn't know you were Double W.â
âOkay,â I blurted, wincing at the hitch in my voice and letting the elevator settle into a heavy silence, interrupted by the steady smack of globs of cum falling from the ceiling. âOkay. I need to know all about this now.â
I was so nervous when my boss called me in for my evaluation.
âYouâve been here what, a month?â he said, looking down at the papers on his desk. He was wearing a tight dress shirt, and I tried not to stare at his sexy body.
âYeah, um, about that long,â I stammered. I was just an intern, worried about whether I was doing a good job.
âIâve heard good things about you,â he said. âBut also that you have been setting the office thermostats really low.â
âOh, um, well,â I said. âI have kind of a sweating problem.â
He smirked. âWhat, you get nervous and sweat?â
âNo, itâs just that⌠when I sweat, itâs kind of, well, bad,â I said. It was so warm in his office. I was nervous. I could feel the beads wetting my armpits.
âWhat do you mean, bad?â he said, leaning across the desk toward me. Oh no, please donât get closer, I thought. My shirt was definitely getting damp now.
âItâs just⌠it has a bad effect on people,â I said.
âWhat kind ofâŚâ he said, and his voice trailed off and he sniffed the air. Then his face went completely slack. Oh, shit, it was happening to my boss! I stood up in a panic.
âI gotta ⌠I gotta go,â I stammered. âYouâll go back to normal when you canât smell me anymore.â
âNope,â he murmured, standing up. His eyes were droopy, his arms limp. âIf you go now,â he said, âyouâre fired.â
âBut I canâtâŚâ I started, but he charged at me, grabbed me, and threw me to the sofa. âBoss! Stop!â I whimpered. I didnât want anyone in the office to walk in on us like this. His face was buried in my crotch, inhaling deeply.
âFuck, so good,â he muttered, reaching up to unbutton my pants.
âPlease sir,â I said, but it was no good. He was insatiable, and so much stronger than me. He tore off my clothes, flipping me onto my belly and sticking his face in to lick the sweat from my balls to my ass.
âGonna fuck this ass,â he growled, and looking back I could see fur starting to sprout across his face. He was becoming shaggier, wilder, his hair unkempt and his muscular body growing even bigger.
âNo no no,â I pleaded. âIf you come in me you wonât be able to change back!â
âDonât care,â he growled, ripping off his shirt and pants. Fur covered his body now, and his legs were getting thick and squat. I could see his feet starting to swell and shift, becoming massive meaty ape feet. With a grunt, he thrust his dick into me, beating his broad chest over me, his conquest.
Get more stories of transformation, power, and control:Â https://amzn.to/2Y1lheH
âWhoa fuck bro Iâm getting huge!â Mark grinned. His body swelled with muscle as he pulled the red muscle-speedo up his legs, his chest thickening with strength and dark hair grew across his formerly scrawny body.
âYou look great,â I said. "Howâs it feel?â
âFucking awesome,â he said, flexing his new larger arms. He looked concerned for a moment. âBut ⌠my head is, like ⌠I feel kinda foggy,â he said. âIs that normal?â
âItâll pass,â I said. âIn a few seconds you wonât remember that you used to be smart.â
âWhaddya mean, used to?â He scratched his head. âAinât I still ⌠uh ⌠whatâs happening to me, bro?â
âThe muscle-speedoâs using your old brainpower to build up your muscles,â I said. âGo ahead and flex for me again.â
He obeyed, grinning as he stared at his reflection, muscles growing even larger.
âFuuuuck, Iâm gettinâ huge dude,â he mumbled, rubbing his thick body. âAw man. Beinâ hot is so much better than beinâ smart.â
Get more stories of transformation, power, and control: https://amzn.to/2zuzn1M
