if anyone is interested in role play dm me

[musclegrowth-12]

mathieu.sport

[subformuscularalpha]

Fuck, bro, look how big I'm getting. Look at those massive arms. I measured them yesterday — they're 18 inches. What? How big are yours? 14,5? Hahahah, yeah, seems like I'm a 'big bro' now...

[dewesker1998]

Being a introvert

The morning finally came and it was time for Will still Tacitus to wake up for his first day of work as Tacitus.

Will woke up yawning as he stretched his limbs in bed and as his eyes blur begin to clear he saw that Simon was gone already.

Will then proceeds to think to himself,

“Last night was something else, the sex was amazing. I would have never imagined myself as a top or dominant as an introvert no less and usually I bottom. I guess this introvert had it in him to do that and he sure is a sexual initiator when he wants to be.”

After this, Will then proceeds to prepare to get ready for Tacitus job at the PD by showering, combing his hair and brushing his teeth. When all this was done, he dressed up in his Sergant uniform after spraying cologne over himself and when all dressed up, he went downstairs to make a quick breakfast and protein shake(no dairy) before heading out the door to make it at the office.

After finally arriving, he made it in the office. The sight for Will was a bit amazed but also tried to maintain his composure, for he never imagined working in a police station much less as a Sergeant who in charge of a group.

Will as Tacitus made it to his office room and using Tacitus knowledge of how his job works was able to get the papers out and review cases that still need to be solved.

It wasn’t long before his higher up Commander came to his office saying,

“It good to have you back as always Sergant Tacitus.” said Commander.

Yes sir, said Tacitus.

“I need you to solve a certain case, it been running the city wild for months, the killer kills couples by luring them to areas, said the Commander:

How are they doing this, if I may ask, said Tacitus.

I don’t know exactly and I can’t give much info, you have a special expertise for understanding the psychology of these couple killers or whatever they are, but I will note that they tend to kill more so around gay bars, but not how they manage to lure them or even get them to leave the bar, said the commander.

So what do you need me to do, said Tacitus.

Well I need you to go find these killers before they strike again and possibly before this weeks end. I will also have a group of officers to back you up and of course on of your closest officer as well.

I wish you luck, Sergant, said Commander.

Yes sir, said Will (Tacitus).

Not long after the Commander left, Will started to think,

Wow, first day and I already have an important task to solve immediately. Good thing I have Tacitus mind to guide me on what to do.

I literally am starting to understand how Shazam feels, it’s like being a kid with the knowledge of a god, but in this case it an introvert.

Not long after, one of his officers came into the office.

Hello Sergant, said the officer.

What’s your name officer, said Will(Tacitus).

Um, Sergant, I’m one of your main back up officers Nick, said Nick.

Of course, Officer Nick, ahah.

They then went to the police car to talk about the case.

What do you know so far from the intel you gather, said Tacitus.

Yes Sergant, we noticed that they somehow manage to get the victims, probably through seduction to leave the bar by choice to go somewhere, mainly a private place or room and then leave them dead outside. I also note that most of these cases have wheel marks in there neck so a syringe is used maybe a tranquilizer, said Nick as he went to get a drink of water thirsty from the hot weather.

Well, from what I can gather, they always go to gay bars and they tend to target gay men, this is definitely men who might be homosexual, and gay bars are popular here, says Tacitus.

So what’s your plan, Sergant, said Nick.

We may need to go undercover, I would say watch outside, but seeing how they are stealthy we need a better plan, paused Tacitus(Will) for a moment.

(A light bulb went off in Tacitus(Will) head)

I hope your open to sexuality or at least bi-curious, cause tonight we’re going to a gay bar, said Will(Tacitus) lightly joking.

That’s a good way to catch him, Sergant, but wouldn’t be to obvious if we we’re there in our uniforms, said Nick.

Don’t you know not to question your Sergant, Nick.

We’re going to blend in, said Tacitus(Will).

After this, they left to go scope the area and all it’s possible exits as well as the best distance to be from the building to watch.

Hours passed to night time and the gay bar was finally open.

As the night for the killer began, they were all ready to go undercover.

As Nick came into the bar he saw his Sergant dress in a classy white shirt and black pants sitting confidently with his arms crossed.

Wow, Sergant, you surely take pride in every role of your job, said Nick.

You damn right I do, said Nick.

They then discuss the plan going forth as they head to the bar to get drinks while watching the surrounding undercover.

So what’s the plan Sergant, said Nick.

The plan is to take more of an active role at the same time we observe. We are gonna blend in as we are and see when they come, if any suspicious activity takes place, said Tacitus.

This could take all night sense they would do it when they are barely noticed during the drinking and dancing, said Nick.

As the night passed and it got later, Nick and Tacitus(Will), took a bit of a more active role by dancing to music and drinking some alcohol, but only to where they could still do there jobs.

Eventually, they got a bit tired of the dancing and decided to sit down.

Weh, that was pretty fun wasn’t it, said Tacitus trying to gauge Nick.

Yeah, I guess, said Nick casually.

Why guess, you’ve been to better bars before, said Tacitus(Will).

I’m not really a party person per say, I mean I’ve been but usually because I followed my friends, but I would usually be on the side, observing, said Nick.

Yeah, I feel that, I more of a small group and relationship kinda guy, business oriented.

What about you, have you had any relations, said Tacitus(Will).

No sir, said Nick.

Are you thinking about any say, open to possibilities, said Tacitus(Will) said vaguely.

Well,- haha, it’s silly really, said Nick nervously as he turned as his cheeks blushed red.

Well what, you can trust me, we’re the only people here, said Tacitus as he touched Nick shoulder for closeness and comfort.

Well, it’s actually you Sergant, said Nick.

Oh, uh, said Tacitus(Will) with complete shock of amazement.

Well, what do you find so interesting in me, said Tacitus(Will).

Well Sergeant, your tall, fit and in elite fitness guy. You are very structured and routine always taking care of yourself and it shows not just in the way you do your job, but also in your appearance, your highly devoted to your incentive and progress not delaying for a minute.

Your basically the ideal man done right. Your very self controlled in your emotions, you do care but don’t show it, like how you treat those who are close to you.

I know that to others you may appear intimidating and probably rude, but your just protecting your emotional energy only giving it wisely to those you view safe or necessary, said Nick.

Why would you think that I would guard my emotions and appear like I’m invulnerable, said Tacitus(Will) curiously.

You understand the world better than most, but you don’t feel a need to show or seek attention, you only share your opinions with those you feel have depth and understanding.

You don’t try to be rude, not intentionally but people view it this way, so eventually you learn to not care what others think, which whether you know it or not, makes you appear like a god among men that people wish they could be, said Nick.

Wow, I never thought of myself that way, said Tacitus. Before the conversation could continue, a scream was heard from a room in the gay bar.

Did you hear that, said Nick.

Yea there’s a scream upstairs let’s hurry, I think we found our killers, said Tacitus as he and Nick ran upstairs.

Before the two men could even stick the syringe to their necks, they barged through the doors.

Freeze we have you surrounded, said Tacitus(Will).

Feeling cornered, they pushed the victim aside and attempted to rush the officer.

Now the officer did not bring there weapons and in order to blend they kept them outside.

As the man came toward Tacitus, his fighter instincts started to kick in and he started grabbing both men by the hand that held the syringe and squeezed there pressure points till they lose grip strength to drop the syringe and pushed one to the side and begin to cuff the other.

Nick was behind Tacitus and when he heard one that was pushed aside make a thud noise, he rushed through with no second to spare and aided in cuffing him.

After this, Tacitus then called for back up to take them to the police car and have them arrested thus ending there spree as the couple killer for tonight.

Take them back to the cells for tonight, we’ll get them in jail in the morning when the higher up gets back in the morning, said Tacitus.

Hey Sergeant, all is good, said Nick.

Yes they are all token care of, good job Nick, I’m very proud of you, said Tacitus.

Now what Sergeant, said Nick.

No, we’re good, you can take it easy , you worked hard enough, said Tacitus as he gave a warm comforting pat on Nick shoulder.

But before he could step in his car to get back to the office and go home,

“Hey Nick, said Tacitus.

Yes sir, said Nick.

I know this is unprofessional, but do you want to come over and meet me at my house after work, said Tacitus(Will).

Yes sir, I would like to, said Nick with a feeling that he was lighter on his feet like he could fly.

And so after they finished there business at the office, they drove over to Tacitus’s house sometime later that night and begin getting comfortable.

They began to talk and laugh together about old memories of their personal and work life together up to that point while enjoying a glass of wine. Will begins to think to himself as they talked,

“It was a beautiful sight, you would never picture how an introvert could go from a stoic cold front to an open and warm extrovert personality.”

As the night continued, they began to become more closer and comfortable on a “spiritual and personal level”. Not only were they sitting close like “two peas in a pod”, but as the night went on, a spark of passion begin to ignite in them, a spark that one would get when two people feel like they understand each other in a way words can’t, silence would surround and action would have to prove.

That spark was a passion that could no longer be contained and it showed as they began to kiss. It escalated to tongue kissing, and as things usually go forth, they begin to take off each other shirts and as Tacitus(Will) proceeds to pick up Nick and carry him to his room, they begin to kiss one another from their head down to there chest.

When they finally made it to Tacitus room, he then lays Nick on his back as both finishes taking off the remaining clothes.

When done, Tacitus then takes the lead as he makes his way towards Nick, who is already signaling what he wants next turn toward the bed.

Tacitus(Will) took the signal and began the next round as pushed Nick on his stomach and plunges his hard and erect cock into his hole.

As Tacitus plunges his cock in and out, moans of pleasure that came from both of them filled the room.

Tacitus while this is going on, slowly closes down on Nick and starts kissing around his neck going toward his face, eventually both are kissing each others lips.

After a while, they begin to reach the point of climax and not able to contain it any longer. With tension increasing so much that one could here the sounds of heart beats, both began to cum at the same time, Nick over the bed and his abs and Tacitus let loose in filling Nick’s hole, which only made him cum again.

Both spent and drain from all the sexual energy spent begin to lay down, wrapped into each embrace, not just by their bodies, but a strong bond of kindred spirits.

As the dusk of the morning slowly rose, while both were still asleep, Will begins to exit out of Tacitus’s mouth in his astral form back into his human one.

“Man, that was one of my best experiences in all my possession and I’ve never been an introvert before, this has been a good experiment and I will definitely write about this one in one of my stories. After all the best one are the ones you experienced yourself, haha, said Will as he looked over Tacitus and Nick lustfully.

Nick then got Tacitus phone already knowing his code unlocks it and takes a picture of them to send to his phone as he tries to lustfully and discreetly hide his boner.

Aftermath(Conclusion)

When Will was about to sneak out, a voice came out and said,

Hey, said Tacitus with a demanding tone.

Will then turn around slowly in shock.

Your that guy from the gym, said Tacitus.

No, you confused me with someone else, said Will.

“You also been in my body these past few days, I’m not mad, I’m actually kinda of glad you did, you took the extra mile to know me better and I also got a chance to better see the people around me and understand my psychology.

Maybe I underestimated you, you’re a socially intelligent guy”, said Tacitus.

Ah, no problem man, said Will.

You can call me your friend Will, and I will gladly train with you at the gym if you ever want a gym buddy, said Tacitus.

Hehehe, really, thanks bro, said Nick trying to contain his excitement.

Also, I know you really enjoy being in me, if you like, perhaps we can hang out or you can get inside me again,

I could really use your social skills to be better at communicating with others, said Tacitus.

Bet, I would love that whenever your down with it, Tac, said Nick.

So thanks to a mutual understanding of one another(as well as the power of possession hehe) and respect, a relationship was formed between two different worlds merged into one.

[cooldude27487]

The Meeting

Andrei found himself in yet another painful meeting at work, he had already caused trouble in the past for comparing about how boring the meetings were, so he knew he had to be on his best behaviour so he wouldn’t upset his boss. This was starting to become difficult though, he had bought a new protein powder from a strange website and something wasn’t sitting right in his stomach.

30 minutes go by and the boss still hasn’t gotten to the point of the meeting and Andrei was feeling a lot worse, the room started feeling physically smaller, he felt claustrophobic in his own shirt.

It was only when his giant biceps ripped through his sleeves he realised something was very wrong. He was panicked but tried to stay quiet. There was only 10 minutes left to sit through and nobody was looking up from their notes, he just needed to not draw attention to himself.

Fate had over plans, his now giant body pressed against the people sat next to him and suddenly everyone was looking at him.

His boss shouted “I don’t know what sort of weird prank you’re pulling here Andrei, but this is the last straw. GET OUT”. Andrei barely noticed this though, he was putting all his energy into resisting the muscle growth.

When we walked out the office and admired his new body he realised that maybe he didn’t need this job after all. Perhaps some more of that protein powder would get him a new career…

[jockdumboy]

yo like uh hey bros n uh all u normie dudes still stuck in ur smart lil heads out there whats good haha 💪😵‍💫

u wanna start gettin retardid like me here’s exactly what u gotta do evry single day no excuses 24/7 365 like i said before this aint a kink its a whole lifestyle bruh

first get rid of all the smart crap that feeds ur head info. delete every news app, unfollow all politics n science n whatever normie shit u follow. no more podcasts, no youtube vids that teach u stuff, no readin articles. like poof gone.

then fix ur algorithm right now. only follow dumb jock stuff: gym bros liftin, bodybuildin tips, football highlights, hot guys n girls flexin n partyin, whatever ur into. scroll instagram n tiktok for hours till ur feed is nothin but gains, asses, abs n hype music. that’s it.

while ur in the middle of doin ANYTHING pull ur phone out n scroll. like cookin? scroll. studyin? scroll. takin a shit? scroll. waitin in line? scroll. u gotta train ur brain to never focus for more than 10 seconds.

every time u feel a smart thought comin just open tiktok n let it melt away. do this nonstop n ur attention span will be completely destroyed in like a week. head empty, no thoughts, just vibes n gains n horny shit.

blast dumb jock hypnoes or goon audios in ur ears when u can. even during gym time.

edge for hours to porn instead of quick nuttin

play super simple phone games n just tap mindlessly for hours

repeat dumb mantras out loud like “head empty muscles big” when a smart thought pops up

only talk in short bro sentences n use tons of uhh n like n never read anything longer than a caption

do this shit every day n ur attention span gets completely destroyed in like a week. head empty no thoughts just vibes n gains n horny shit.

[misctf]

Be-PrEP-ared

"How much longer is this gonna take?" Ethan shifted, pretending to look interested. He had an exam coming up and a hundred places he’d rather be, but the man across from him only grew more animated by the second.

"So we came up with our slogan, 'Be PrEPared.'" The man practically beamed. "The boys in marketing really outdid themselves, don't you think?"

"Yeah..." Ethan caught his mind wandering and forced a smile. "I'm happy to be involved. I think population health is undervalued."

"Preach, babe." The man snapped his fingers.

Ethan grinned internally. The guy was eating out of his hand, and Ethan knew it wasn't just his answers. From the tone to blatantly checking him out, this guy fit every gay stereotype Ethan knew. What could he say? The gays loved him.

"But enough about me," the man laughed, leaning forward. "Tell me about you, hun. Why join our campaign?"

Ethan’s smile widened. He could tell the truth: he didn't give a shit about population health. He wanted a cushy specialty, and residency directors liked well-rounded resumes.

"Well, I think this is a great opportunity to support..." Ethan trailed off as the man raised a skeptical eyebrow. "...support marginalized groups. Happy to help de-stigmatize this stuff."

The man stared, then broke into a grin. "Oh my God, you're adorable."

Ethan let out an awkward chuckle. "That's a first." When the silence stretched into uncomfortable territory, he leaned in. "Look, I'd be good at this. Promise you won't regret bringing me on board."

The man tapped a finger against his chin. "Hmmm..." Really? Had this guy even looked at his résumé? This wasn't exactly a difficult decision, "Who would you prescribe PrEP to?" He finally asked.

"Uh…" Ethan wasn't expecting that. "Guys who sleep around, I guess." He paused, catching himself. "You know what I mean. Gay guys. Men who have sex with men."

"And would you use PrEP?"

"Uh, no." The answer shot out too quickly. The man’s eyebrow climbed, "I mean, I'm not the target demographic," Ethan corrected with a nervous laugh. "Nothing against it, but I'm not looking for sex with other men."

The man studied him for a beat, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, Ethan, I think we're gonna get along just fine."

"So that's a yes?"

"Oh, babe. That's absolutely a yes."

The tension left Ethan's shoulders. Perfect. One more line for the application. "Awesome. I appreciate the opportunity."

"We're excited to have you." The man reached beneath his desk and pulled out a small BePRePared tote bag. "Take this, hun."

"What's in it?"

"Everything you'll need for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

The man's grin somehow widened. "Don't you worry. We'll be in touch."

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

"That took longer than I thought." Ethan returned to his apartment, tossed the BePRePared tote bag onto the couch, and sat at his desk to study, "Fuck, I'm behind."

He stared at his digital flashcards, trying to prepare his best for his upcoming exam. But the text blurred. He blinked and stared at the card.

"What the hell?" He knew the answer to this, or at least he did yesterday. A suffocating brain fog rolled over him, as a dull ache started behind his eyes. His mind went completely blank, "Am I getting sick?"

Shoving himself away from the desk, he ran his hands through his hair. His neat trim felt dense, curling thickly between his fingers. He paused and ran his hand through his hair again, slower this time.

"How...?" Suddenly, the room tilted and sweat broke out across Ethan’s forehead, his joints throbbed, "Shit..." He couldn't afford to get sick, not when he had his first gig with BePrEPared tomorrow. The thought made him stop, "What am I thinking? Must be the fever... fucking with my head... Need water..."

He stumbled toward the kitchen and reached for a glass, barely noticing the fabric of his sleeve straining against his growing bicep. He quickly chugged his water, and froze when he wiped his chin. There was thick, rough stubble there. As if he hadn't shaved in a week.

"Fevers can... cause... hallucinations." He reasoned, although his thoughts were coming slower now, "Need... sleep..."

The room spun and his temperature spiked as he stumbled over towards the couch. He weakly pulled his scrub top off and threw it aside, his palms brushing through the thick, dark mat of body hair sprouting across his chest. But he barely recognized any of this, as his vision blurred and body grew weaker. He grabbed the tote bag on the couch and dropped it to the ground, the contents spilling out.

"What the fuck is this?" Ethan muttered, his voice dropping an octave, settling deeper. He felt a surge of irritation. This was a joke. They couldn't be serious. He was a medical student, for God's sake, not a...

Yet, as he stared at the blue speedo, his mind drifted to thinking about the happy, muscular campaign ambassadors he remembered seeing on the website. No exams. No residency stress. Just having fun and being noticed.

"Must be nice..." He fell onto the couch, and wiped sweat away from his forehead, "Fuck..." He smiled weakly, "I bet I’d look good in that Speedo." he thought.

He blinked, horrified by his own thought. Where had that come from? He shook his head, trying to clear the fog, but the movement only triggered a vicious wave of nausea.

"This isn't… a normal virus," he muttered. The words felt clumsy on his tongue, "Something's... wrong... with me..."

Ethan's hands drifted across his torso, tangling in the growing, dense dark body hair that was spreading now across his stomach. Beneath the coarse mat, his pectorals had swollen into heavy, solid shelves of muscle, hard and burning to the touch. He squeezed his own chest, a delirious, breathless laugh escaping him as his thumb traced over a newly sensitive, hyper-reactive nipple. He pinched it, and a sharp, slutty jolt of pure pleasure shot straight to his groin.

"Fuck," Ethan groaned, "Fuck... fuck... fuck..."

The room was spinning now and he was starting to see things that he knew shouldn't be there. He saw Joshua, sitting and smirking in the corner of the room.

"You're... not here." He slurred, "Leave me... alone..."

He closed his eyes tightly, and the hallucination of Joshua blurred and shifted. He was suddenly surrounded by nameless men crowding over the couch. He could feel them. Their heavy, rugged palms gripping his broadened shoulders, rough fingers digging greedily into his newly full, heavy ass, squeezing his thickening muscles. With a grunt, he flipped onto his stomach, and arched his ass.

"Ah... fuck..." Ethan groaned, drool leaking from his mouth. He whimpered as he felt something press against his exposed hole, "Pl...Please..."

His hand slithered past the tight elastic of his boxers, wrapping around a cock that was longer, thicker, and harder than it had ever been. He began to pump it in a frantic, heavy rhythm, his muscular thighs flexing with every stroke. He didn't care about the exam. He didn't care about residency. He just wanted to be a dumb, hot object. He wanted to be used.

“Would you use PrEP, babe?” Joshua’s voice echoed in his head.

"Wh-why... would... I?" Ethan moaned, "I'm... not... Oh... fuck..." He gagged suddenly as he felt the heavy pressure of a thick cock pushing deep into his throat, stretching his jaw and cutting off his breath, while another massive, rigid shaft slammed brutally up his ass, "Th... this isn't... real..." He thought, even as his jaw ached.

Every thrust of the thick, veiny shaft plugging his throat made his eyes water as he gagged. Simultaneously, he felt his ass being stretched wider as the skin-on-skin pounding drove his lower body forward, burying his face deeper into the cushions with each wet, heavy slap.

“What’s the doctor word for... not breathing?” he tried to ask himself, “Can't... think of it. Mind... fuzzy. So heavy.”

The ambient hum of his laptop fan and the quiet of the night vanished, completely replaced by a deep, thumping electronic base that vibrated directly through the cushions beneath his chest. His brain couldn't quite process the switch. Even the clinical definitions of auditory hallucinations felt too distant, too complicated to grasp.

“Music?” Ethan thought, his cognitive processing slowing to a crawl. “Music... nice... feels good...”

Even the scent of the room was suddenly different. A thick, heavy cloud of cologne, raw male sweat, and latex filled his lungs with every desperate, choking gasp.

“Smells... good,” the simple thought drifted lazily through his mind, “Warm. Thick. Smells like... men. Sex."

He let out a choked gasp as the cock went deeper down his throat. Panicking with what little logical faculty he had left, Ethan whipped his hands upward, fully intending to push away whatever hallucination was blocking his airway and clamping his jaw open.

“Get it out... need to study... am a doctor...”

But instead of empty air, his palms connected firmly with hot, sweaty flesh. The solid, moving hips of a man rhythmically thrusting down his throat.

“No... Wha...? Not a dream? Real. Big. So big. In my mouth. Up my ass.”

He reached out desperately, trying to find leverage, but instead his thicker palms and fingers clamped directly around two pulsing, rigid cocks. His broadened shoulders flexed automatically as his palms wrapped tight, his fingers squeezing the thick shafts as he began to stroke them in a frantic, heavy rhythm. His body knew exactly what to do, even if his brain could no longer define it.

“Stroke them... make them feel good,” his dumbed-down thoughts hummed, completely content to abandon his studies. “Good boy. Do what they want. Just a hot object.”

The thumping music grew louder, accompanied by the rapid, rhythmic click-whir of a professional camera shutter and deep, masculine groans of approval close to his ears.

"Look at him take it," a deep, gravelly voice chuckled right above him. "The new guy's an absolute natural."

Flash. Flash.

An intense, blinding glare of white-hot light penetrated right through his closed eyelids. The searing heat radiating against his skin wasn't a fever spike anymore; it was the burning warmth of professional studio lighting hanging directly overhead.

Ethan’s eyes snapped open.

He wasn't in his apartment. No, he was pinned face-down on a leather sofa in the center of a roaring photography studio. He could see his reflection in a mirror. Bulkier, hairier... sexier... sporting a toy stethoscope over his hair-covered chest and a tiny blue Speedo that was completely soaked through.

"Oh my gawd..." He thought, eyes watering.

A tall, rugged model stood over him, holding Ethan's face up by a tight fist in his thick, curly hair as he slid deep into Ethan’s throat. Behind him, a massive, tatted model was burying himself ruthlessly into Ethan’s expanded, aching glutes, slamming his hips forward with a heavy, wet slap. To his left and right, two more models leaned over the couch, grinning down at him as Ethan’s large, rough hands rapidly pumped them.

"Fuck... where'd you find this guy?"

Ethan's eyes were wide now, but the panic he expected to feel never came. His mind was too beautifully empty, too saturated with testosterone and pleasure. Board scores, residency applications, the endless stress of his old life...

“I’m the PrEP boy,” his thoughts drifted, “Dumb... hot... please... use me.”

"Keep going, hun, you're doing amazing," Joshua called out over the music, gesturing to the lens. "So, let's hear it for the campaign! Would you use PrEP?"

The thick cock down his throat pulled out with a wet pop, a line of drool running down his heavy, stubbled chin. He looked straight into the camera lens, his mind completely wiped of medical terminology. None of that mattered anymore. He was a BePRePared model. He was beautiful, he was being used, and he loved it.

"Y-Yes..." Ethan gasped out, his voice a deep, thoroughly broken baritone. His hips gave a desperate, simple twitch against the man behind him. "Yes... God, yes..."

The photographer grinned, clicking the shutter rapidly. "Perfect! That's the money shot!"

With a final, shattering surge of friction, the man behind him buried himself to the hilt, releasing deep inside him. Simultaneously, the model in front of him painted Ethan's face and thick, hairy chest, while the two men in his hands blew their loads over his fingers. And Ethan's own massive, leaking cock throbbed and fired a heavy stream into his tight, blue speedo.

"So good..." He moaned, falling back onto the couch and looking up at the other models with a dumb, happy grin, "More…?" he slurred, a thick bead of drool tracking down his chin and mixing with the man's seed. "More… please… use me more…"

"Don't you worry." Joshua patted him on the shoulder, while the other models chuckled, "You're our star now, Ethan. We've got plenty of work lined up for you." He nodded over at the photographer.

"Next shoot is in twenty minutes, boys," the photographer called out, adjusting his lens with a grin. "Clean him up just enough to do it all over again."

[kemerooter]

Be careful wishing your partner was as big as you —

Some wishes have consequences

and side effects

that you may not have asked for

but enjoy regardless

(credits to the owner of the original image)

[mystrangetfs]

Deal - Muscle growth AI sequence

Milo let out a pathetic yelp as he dropped the weights to the floor, each barely 15 pounds and still they were a struggle to hold up. Milo almost felt like crying, he had been going to the gym for a couple of months now and while he had lost a little bit of weight he had gained no muscle at all. He was still weak, scrawny and completely over looked, women wouldn't even notice him not in a gym full of real muscle men. Milo looked around embarrassed, hoping no one has seen his poor attempt at lifting the light weights, when he caught the eyes of Tobias the most arrogant jock at the gym.

Milo quickly looked away but it was too late, the 6'2 jacked, tanned stud which the thick bulge in his tiny pink shorts has seen him. Tobias walked with a swagger, his pectorals bouncing with each step as they were barely contained by his tank top. Tobias oozed confidence and his handsome face, chiselled jaw line and effortless gym style made him the most desirable man at the gym. Tobias towered over Milo as he walked over to the pale, weak, ginger nerd. Milo was expecting some kind of nasty comment or a joke at his expense, he had flashbacks to wedgies, swirlies and nipple twisters he received from the jocks at school and hoped he wasn't going to relive some of his worst memories. As Milo tensed up and looked at the floor, Tobias grinned and spoke but his tone wasn't vicious or cruel instead it was one of concern "Yo little dude, looks like you need some help?"

Milo looked up meekly still expecting this to be some kind of mockery at his expense, but Tobias's expression was warm. "Yeah, I'm just no good at this gym stuff" Milo said awkwardly.

"No stress bro, its hard starting from the beginning. It takes a while to get use to training and eating right." Tobias then flexed his chest whether consciously or unconsciously it was unclear. "Do you want me to help you?"

Milo let out a little smile but that faded as he looked down at the weights he had fumbled "That would be nice but I fear I might be not cut out for muscles."

"Nonsense little man! How about we make a deal. I'll help you get super jacked even bigger than me and then you sort of live like a god amongst men, while you just have to give me one thing in return."

"What thing" Milo said a little sceptical

"We don't have to worry about that now. What do you say, wanna make a deal bro?" Tobias said his smile warm as he extended out his hand.

Milo looked at Tobias and his perfect body and kind smile, he looked at his own weedy arms and the weights he had barely even moved, what did he have to lose? Milo gave a weak smile "Deal" Milo said as shook Tobias's hand, his grip was sweaty, strong and hot almost burning.

Milo let out a little hiss of pain as he quickly retreated his hand from Tobias's it was almost like he had put his hand to fire. Milo inspected his hand and saw no injury but it was such a strange feeling, he looked to Tobias who was still smiling although it looked a little less warm and more like a satisfied grin.

"What do you say we get started right away then little bro?" Tobias said shaking out his arms.

"Sure, what did you have planned, different weights?" Milo said letting himself get a little excited.

"Na na bro, first we need to get you fired up. You're too comfortable and low energy but I have something that's gonna really get your blood pumping!"

"That sounds awesome what is i-" Before Milo could even finish his sentence Tobias had spun his body around, hiked up his leg and bent forward, his big peachy muscle ass stretching at his pink shorts was now just inches away from Milo's face. Milo could do nothing as he was hit point blank with a deep, loud blast of dank, sulphuric gas. The stench rocketing up his nose and burning his senses with a stench of nasty protein rich ass gas.

Milo recoiled in disgust as his eyes watered and he couldn't help but cough at the foul fart that has been pushed into his face. Milo's face burned red with embarrassment, too meek to be angry at Tobias and to ashamed to look around for help. Milo just sat there inhaling the foul smell even as Tobias turned around a gave a chuckle "There, I bet that's woke you up! Now get up its time to get started" Tobias then started walking to a more open area of the gym. Milo sat red faced for a while, the smell clung to his nostrils and didn't seem to fade, was he really going to follow the gassy jock, was he really going to just take that public humiliation from him. Tobias then looked over his shoulder and in a slightly more authoritative tone shouted "I said lets get started" before gesturing for Milo to come.

Milo wasn't proud and hated himself for it but he found himself getting up and awkwardly following in the shadow of the jock.

Milo wiped his nose as he stood next to Tobias the fart still lingering.

"Now little dude we need to get you ready to workout. I mean those shoes have no support and your clothes are so constricting. You need to be dressed like me bro."

"I don't think I would look go-"

SNAP

Tobias clicked his fingers and for a split second Milo thought he saw a flame flicker in Tobias's hand. Milo would have looked for longer but suddenly his t-shirt felt weird, like it had gotten looser as a chill ran down Milo's spine. Milo looked down and gasped as he saw his clothing starting to change. Milo could barely comprehend what was happening, his joggers were rapidly shrinking as his shins, knees and then thighs became exposed as the turned into tiny purple shorts. His shirt has turned a neon yellow, the fabric compacting as it lost its sleeves and the collar sunk into a deep arch exposing his weak chest and pale torso. While his once modest shoes changed to match his new stringer tank, becoming equally outlandish and ridiculous. To finish the outfit off Milo looked down as saw text appearing across his tank, the words 'Beast Mode... eventually' a joke at his pathetic physiques expense.

"How did you do that!?" Milo gasped while trying to hide his weak thin body in clothes that now exposed it all.

"You look so much better little buddy!" Tobias said ignoring Milo's question and panic. "Now its time to fill out those clothes with muscle!"

SNAP

Tobias then flicked his fingers again and then folded his arms...waiting.

"I think I'm going to go, this is getting to stra- woah I feel funny, like I need to run, like need to lift something, like I have to move my body!" Milo said beginning to freak out, that was until he noticed his arms.

Milo looked in fascination as he saw the beginnings of biceps on his arms, he gave them a cursory feeling to check they were real and they were! He then looked down and it seemed he had definition on his chest as well, what use to be flat now had two very small mounds, the very beginnings of pectorals. Milo couldn't believe it.

The growth didn't stop there, Milo watched in quiet fascination as his arms continued to expand until he now had decent biceps and defined triceps. Milo found himself having to move his arms as muscles built up around his shoulders, neck and back making him broader and stronger. Milo felt at his chest as he now had pectorals that has started to push out his ridiculous neon tank, while below he had the beginnings of a six pack. Milo then felt energy swelling in his legs as they packed on muscle and Milo swore he was now a little taller. Milo was left mouth open and in awe as his body continued to swell.

Milo let out a little chuckle of glee as his body grew more and more muscular, it was a dream come true. His torso widened to accommodate more growth as his pectorals ballooned and his six pack started to show through the fabric of his stringer tank. Milo adjusted his stance as his legs, thighs, calves all bulged outwards with pure muscle making him look extremely shredded and defined. Milo couldn't stop looking at his arms they big, strong, masculine something he had always wanted to be and yet they were still growing and as Milo looked at Tobias he no longer felt like he was craning his neck upwards to make eye contact as he grew taller. Milo couldn't believe what was happening and he couldn't believe Tobias's deal was real he was becoming super jacked! Was he really going to get bigger than Tobias?

Milo shook his head as he concentrated more on his new muscles and he now looked Tobias in the eyes. Milo couldn't help but bounce his new meaty pectorals as they stretched out his tank, thick veins rans down his arms as his massive biceps pushed them to the surface. His legs were now thick with muscle and along with his glutes he had a powerful toned lower body. Milo stringer tank then started to shimmer as the word 'eventually' faded away as now the beast had arrived. Milo had to smile with happiness as the feeling inside him started to subside, it was the body he had always dreamed of and Tobias's had given it to him without all the hard work and years of exercise, diet and training. Milo felt like he could lift up a car he had so much energy and was so happy!

"Looking good bro" Tobias said with a smile

"I fucking feel good!" Milo almost yelled his voice now deeper and more commanding than it had ever been in his life. "How can I ever thank you, this is like a dream come true! I have to lift something now"

However, before Milo could leave Tobias put his hand on his shoulder and holding him still.

"Woah bro where are you going? This is just the start bro!" Tobias said

"What do you mean? I am already super jacked. I mean look at these arms!" Milo then grinned as he flexed one of his biceps, the nerd was almost giddy with glee as he showed off his body.

"Ha!" Tobias said before slapping Milo hard on the back knocking his glasses off. "I mean I want you even bigger bro!"

Milo jolted as his glasses were flung off his face, he was about to rush to the floor to grab them when something seemed odd, the world looked clean, crisp, clear there was no blur at all. He could see Tobias's big grin as clear as day and it started to make Milo feel uneasy as the swell of energy inside him returned and he body started to expand again. Milo's chest grew larger and more prominent as each pectoral became bigger than a handful, his biceps ballooned and pushed his arms away from his sides as two hefty cannonball sized muscles grew from his arms. His legs grew to a crazy size and started to wedgie his tiny shorts up his growing glutes, his whole body looked shredded and defined like a bodybuilder before a show. Milo loved how he looked, he was bigger than Tobias now and it made him look even more tough and intimidating, something he had never been before but something started to feel wrong. That energy, that feeling of growth it wasn't stopping.

"Err Tobias I think I'm good now bro" Milo said a little uneasy as he felt his pectorals still growing and his ass cheeks now chewing on his underwear as they swelled even larger.

"You might be bro but I'm not." Tobias smiled but with no joy to his tone, while he looked happy his voice was cold and almost vicious. "No I think I want you even bigger and lets make you look more mature, someone of your age would never be able to look this huge."

"What are you talking about?" Milo said as his body swelled bigger.

Milo then felt something tickle his face as something fell from his head, Milo scratched at his face and as he did he realised just how laborious it was to lift his massive muscular arm. His huge biceps made it hard to bend his arms properly as they bulged and pressed into his body. Milo then felt the tickle again and this time something fell in front of his eyes and fluttered to the ground. Milo could barely see past his ballooning chest that now most women would have been envious of but as he leant forward to see, more fluttered past his eyes and to the ground. At first Milo couldn't work out what the little wisps of red were, that was until they started to pile up around his now humongous feet, it was little piles of hair.

Milo flung his massive mitts up to his head and found his rapidly receding hairlines, he felt at his face and found lines, wrinkles and sagging around his cheeks. Milo quickly turn to a gym mirror and saw his quickly ageing face, he wasn't 20 any more he barely looked 30 and was fast approaching 40.

"What are you doing!!" Milo shouted as he turned to Tobias just smiled. "PLEASE STOP I DON'T WANT TO BE OLD! I DON'T WANT TO BE THIS BIG. PLEASE STOP!!!"

Milo tried to move away but Tobias just put his hand on his expanding shoulders and Milo found himself rooted in place unable to do anything as the rest of his hair fell from his head, his body bloated and bulged with muscles until he looked like a bodybuilder with a serious steroid problems. His arms had expanded so much that moving them was hard, his chest has doubled in size along with his back meaning he would have to turn to the side to get through doorways. Milo yelped as his legs grew even bigger, his shorts now crushing his cock and balls, while his massive muscle butt grew so large that his ass cheeks now hung out the bottom of his purple hot pants. When the energy inside Milo finally started to dim, he found he was now pouting and looking down at Tobias, his head bald, his body a cartoonish caricature of muscle and his age stopping at the ripe old age of 50.

"What have you done to me!" Milo said confused, betrayed and angry. "I look like a freak."

"I just fulfilled my end of the deal bro, you are now super jacked and way bigger than me! Tobias said arrogantly

"NO! This isn't what I wanted! Please change me back!" Tobias said tears pricking at his eyes.

"To bad bro, it is what I wanted though. Now to take my half of the deal" Tobias said "I just what one thing"

"No fuck you! I don't want this! No deal!" Milo yelled

"Well that's to bad Milo we had a deal!" Tobias's voice then turned deeper and distorted and with snap of his fingers the hot jock was engulfed in flames, burning away his skin until only a deep red appeared, two thick horns grew from his skull, while wings sprouted from his back and a tail sprung from the back of his gym shorts.

Milo wanted to scream and sob as the handsome demon crossed his arms and stared at his new muscle creation. "Don't worry Milo I only want one thing, I am sure you won't miss one thing will you?

With fear quivering his voice Milo finally found the courage to answer "What is that you want?"

Tobias then grinned his fangs shown and his true nature exposed "Your free will!" Tobias then laughed deep and long as the giant muscle man beside him quaked in fear unsure what the demon meant, that was until he felt a void appearing inside him. Almost like his essence was being sucked away, his control lessening and his body no longer being part of him and instead it was now an extension of Tobias.

"On to your knees now my muscle pet." Tobias demanded

Milo yelped as his body awkwardly started to move, he tried to stop it, he willed for his new muscles to respond but they were no longer his to command. As Milo found himself sinking to his knees his massive pectorals hanging like an udder, his huge stocky ass poking out and exposed.

"You are now mine." Tobias said not even looking at his newest pet below him. "You will work at this gym, you will sleep at the gym, you will live at this gym and you will do everything to keep it clean and spotless. When you are not doing that you are standing out and attracting people into the gym, you will not speak of how you got your muscles or of me. You will attract the lonely, the desperate, the weaklings like you to me. That is your new role. Now thank your new master!"

Milo had tears in his eyes as his lips moved without his consent "Thank you master"

"Now stand up Milo, eurgh you need a new name you old one is so pathetic. Hmm from now on you will be called Mammoth" Tobias then snapped his fingers and out of bright flames he summoned a bucket and mop and handed them to Milo.

"Now Mammoth then men's toilet's need scrubbing, I want the toilet so clean you could eat you dinner off of it because guess what... you will be!"

"Now off you go Mammoth, oh but before you go I have something for you."

Milo could do nothing as the demon that had cursed him turned around and pointed his big peachy ass at him once again and blasted a horrendous 10 second long droning protein fart at him and Milo had no choice but to inhale every stinking particle.

"There that's gonna stay in your nose for the next 100 years or so!" Tobias laughed as he saw Milo's expression turn from disgust to shock and confusion. "Oh did you forget our deal Mammoth? You wanted to be super jacked but I also promised you'd sort get to live like a god, which for you means...immortality. You are mine for the rest of time!" Tobias cackled as fresh tears started running down Milo's face.

"No get to work Mammoth! That piss isn't going to mop itself!"

Milo could only silently sob as his body lumbered away against his will, the smell of a rank fart always up his nose and his life forever out of his control. All he wanted was for a little bit of muscle and now he was going to scrubbing, cleaning, serving for the rest of eternity in a body he despised.

[mystrangetfs]

15th Caption - Game

Hey everyone nearly half way through, please let me know if you are enjoying the captions. Here is the first paragraph of the story with the rest on my blog. Hope you like it.

Oliver was sitting on the couch nervously waiting for his roommate Logan to come back to the apartment. He fidgeted restlessly, rehearsing the script he had created in his head about what he was going to say to Logan, it was his chance to finally change things and he really didn’t want to mess this up. Oliver and Logan had been good friends but over the last few years things had changed and both of their lives had taken different directions. Oliver had focussed on his education and working tirelessly to move forward with his career, while Logan had got into fitness, partying, casual hook ups and having as much fun as he could. This led the pair to accuse each other of being boring or irresponsible, causing arguments and spending less time together. What’s more Oliver had come out as gay and while Logan had said he was cool and supportive, Oliver would sometimes catch Logan making faces when he would talk about guys or make comments about Oliver staring at his muscular body. Oliver felt awkward and uncomfortable, which he never felt before around Logan. This wasn’t helped by the fact that Logan was always shirtless and rightly so he had worked hard on his body and looked amazing, his pecs were heavy, his biceps huge, his back wide, his ass plump and his legs thick. If they hadn’t been such good friends Oliver would have found Logan attractive but it wasn’t like that and even Logan joking about it made him feel weird.

Game

  Oliver was sitting on the couch nervously waiting for his roommate Logan to come back to the apartment. He fidgeted restlessly, rehearsing

[dreamertf]

"It's not about the money, whore"

/tw: nonconsenual

/muscle drain, nerd to jock, straight to gay

His deep voice spat out at me. It was the last thing I heard as he slid his huge cock into my ass, my hole twitching in anticipation.

---

Jason was a totally nerd, a dweeb, a loser. I had fucked him up a little, stole some money, the usual– but this one afternoon he seemed too calm. He passed by me as I leaned up against the locker, usually he'd try his best to avoid me; stick to the opposite side of the hallway, take a different path, hide behind another group of people– but he was just a foot or teo away from me. Like I didn't exist. A masculine earthy slightly musky smell wofted into my nose as he passed, wven with my years of lockerroom experience– I had never once smelt anything so masculine, intoxicating.

I started trailing behind me. Usual routine, get him isolated and take his shit– but as we rounded the corner he stood there waiting for me. Not even trying to run away. He pulled me close with a terrifying amount of strength for such a small body, pushing me against the cold hallway walls.

"Things are gonna change real soon, I bet you're already starting to feel it." His voice wasn't timid anymore, fully confident, dominant. That smell intensified as I felt my stomach flutter.

He let go and walked away, I was too shocked to say anything.

---

Over the next week I started noticing small things, my buddy Raj started shaving, his manicured facial hair that he kept for the ladies was completely gone. Brandon started talking a little higher. I swear I watched Gage's shoulders become more narrow.

And for some reason, I couldn't get myself to bully Jason.

Friday I was sitting outside in the quad with the boys for lunch, and he was at a table in the corner– watching us with those intense eyes. In the past week he had grown in some facial hair, facial hair that looked eerily similar to Raj's.

I got dizzy as I realized that my perspective was shortening, like the universe was squishing us down. I glanced over at him, suprised to see a wispy faint translucent string connecting all of to him like he was the spoke of a wheel. He smirked and I tried to get up, I tried to confront him, but I couldn't.

I stared into my locker. My eyes locked on the mirror I had mounted on the locker door. The cheap magnets had lost their grip so it sat naturally at the bottom, caught by the lip of the door. It was something that used to bother me, but now it was my height.

My eyes were bigger, my face a little cuter. I had definately lost some definition in my muscles but something in me was telling me it was okay.

Suddenly I felt a warm hand wrap arpund my waist, gently.

"Meet me at my house tonight, okay?" Jason said, his voice deeper, raspy. He handed me a sticky note that had his address and number on it.

I gulped and nodded.

---

Arrive to his house you stepped onto the creaky porch, half expecting to be ambushed right then and there. He opened the door before you even knocked. A sexy grin plastered on his face. "Hey" he said, stepping to the side to let me in.

The living room was well decorated, clearly his parents had taken care in making sure to put photos of everyone up. A family portrait showed his whole family at the beach. Three sons, one daughter, and two happy parents. His dad looked imposing, taller, very well muscled, and extremely handsome. His mother was gorgeous, long flowy hair, perfect skin. He was the tallest out of his siblings, and the most attractive. Which was saying something considering the rest of his siblings could all be models. Their bodies were all very athletic, taut. Somehow every single person had abs.

Something was telling me that this isn't how they always looked, I swear I had memories of seeing him with his parents before and they were not this attractive.

I unzipped my oversized hoodie and felt the coldness of the air on my stomach. Looking down I was suprised to see that my shirt had turned intro a crop top.

"Lookin good" he purred, leading me down the hallway. He had to be 6'5" at this point, contrasting my 5'6"

His room was neat, except for his desk, papers strewn about the place like he had been researching something obsessively.

"You're probably wondering what's going on" his voice made my body vibrate. It took everything to not show how turned on I was.

He gently pushed me onto the bed, my breath hitched. As he straddled me. He took off his shirt as I watched his toned torso ripple. His hair fell over his face in a picturesque way. His large hands slid down from his pecs down his abs,

"I look good huh?" He whispered, admiring his handiwork.

A burning feeling came over me as I continued to watch him touch himself, his body looming over mine as I watched his vascular hands trail his skin inches away from my face. His abs twitched as the burning feeling intensified in my stomach. Another row of abs revealed themselves, making it an eight pack. Looking down at my own stomach I had realized that the definition had mostly disappeared, although a few faint lined did indicate that they were there. He looked up at the ceiling, his long vascular neck seemed to stretch up and up as I watched him in awe. His adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed, moans escaping his breath as he grew more defined all over.

"I've been enjoying taking everything from you guys"

"I-i'm sorry. I don't want to be like this! I want to go back!" I scrrambled backwards towards the headboard of his bed and he just smirked. Snapping as I felt a numbness come over my mind. It was impossible to not be horny right now, feeling as my dick finally gave in, creating an outline in my jeans.

"P-please... I- I'll pay you back, ill do anything." I cried. He unzipped his pants, pulling them down as he revealed a giant throbbing dick. Even behind his briefs it was impressive.

He pulled me by my legs, and I gave way. All I could do was stare at him. "I need you in me" i said on autopilot. He took my clothes off my body like an animal, ripping my shirt to shreds. I moaned as he flipped me around, he didnt struggle at all as he teased me, barely putting the tip in. My own sizeable dick made a wet spot of pre on his sheets, the burning feeling coming back in my dick. I didn't need to see to know what was happening as my dick shrivled up. I felt the head of his dick swell bigger as his moans became deeper.

I was still trying to fight back, but I wanted him in me.

"I-i'll give you the mone-" i gasped as he drove his dick into me, not quickly, but abrupt.

"It's not about the money, whore."

He pumped in and out as my dick continued to become smaller, he was pulsing bigger inside of me.

"Fuck! Fuck me! Fuck!" I screamed into the sheets. My voice was higher. More flamboyant.

"Good boy" he growled between grunts, his voice considerably deeper as my whole body lit on fire.

[malebodytf]

Bryce was at the clinic, scrolling through his phone, waiting his turn. He sat with effortless confidence, legs spread wide as if he owned the place, naturally taking up more space than anyone else. His massive frame spilled over the cheap plastic chair, making it look far too small for him.

He was built like someone who lived in the gym, showcasing years of disciplined training. At 6'4" and 215 of pure, competition-ready muscle, he was a walking wet dream, thick slabs of pecs straining his tight compression shirt, boulder shoulders, and dense arms that measured a veiny 18 inches cold. His quads stretched his gym shorts obscenely, the fabric clinging to every cut and striation earned from years of heavy iron and clean eating. He scrolled through his Instagram, smirking at the flood of likes on his latest thirst-trap post about him hitting a double biceps pose, sweat-slick and pumped.

He then saw the post again and was reminded why he was here, an advertisement for a blood drive at this clinic, promising protein snacks from a nutrition sponsor. He wasn't a fan of needles, but he wasn't about to pass up free stuff.

"Everyone here probably thinks these gains aren’t natural and assumes I’m juicing. As if. Fuck that. I'm in top shape and I built this body the right way, natural prime beef. If someone's getting blood today, they might as well get the good shit".

As an attractive woman across the room briefly caught his attention he adjusted his posture without thinking, rolling his shoulders back. He straightened a little more, flaring his lats just enough to make his shirt ride up and reveal the deep V-cut of his abs, letting his physique sit just right under the fluorescent lights. His big cock twitched lazily in his shorts at the attention, thick even when soft.

"Mr. Bryce Jackson"

A skinny nurse interrupted his train of thought. The guy was a total contrast: pale, scrawny, and wearing a pair of glasses, maybe 5'6" with narrow shoulders and arms that looked like they could snap under a grocery bag.

Bryce stood, towering over him, and smirked internally. "Look at this little twig" "Some of us just hit the genetic lottery".

Once seated, the nurse ran his finger over Bryan's upper arm, his eyes lingering a second too long on his pumped biceps. The touch felt almost worshipful, pressing, tracing the thick vein that snaked over the peak, then wrapping his slim fingers around the massive bicep like he was measuring a prize.

The needle went in and at first, it was just the usual pinch. Then, a rhythmic and subtle pulse began. Bryce’s vision blurred as something far more than blood flowed out. His proud bicep softened under the tech’s palm. "What the… fuck?" he muttered, watching in horror as the thick muscle deflated, shrinking from a cannonball size to a soft, flat lump. His forearms withered next, veins collapsing as dense mass drained away. His shirt suddenly hung loose over pecs that were rapidly flattening into a smooth, boyish chest.

He tried to move, but his limbs wouldn't respond. Panic continued to build inside him as his shoulders narrowed, traps melting away. His powerful back rounded, spine compressing with an audible shift. Thick quads that could squat a small car dwindled into skinny, trembling sticks. His shorts sagged around a shrinking ass and thighs, the heavy bulge between his legs dwindling to something pathetic and small. Bryce’s feet no longer reached the floor the same way as his height visibly shrank.

"St–stop" he can barely gasped, voice cracking higher, head spinning with dizzying lightness. His body felt utterly drained, and through his blurred vision he watched his body continue to change, his confidence and identity slipping away.

Suddenly the world went black.

When Bryce woke up, he was still reclined in the chair, shirtless, heart pounding. The promised proteins snack on his side. He realized a pair of glasses was placed on his face. He stared down at his new form: his once-dominant body now slim, soft, and frail. Skinny arms, narrow chest, short legs dangling.

The clothes that had once clung tightly to his muscular frame now hung loosely from him. An "I Donated!" sticker was plastered mockingly on his flat pectoral. His cock, once thick and a source of pride, now was a mere nub that twitched pathetically in his now-baggy shorts.

Across the room, the clinic staff member stood in front of the mirror, now a towering, heavily muscled figure. Massive deltoids capped arms thicker. His chest was a shelf of striated power, abs carved like bricks, and quads that strained the seams of his stolen scrubs.

The man slowly raised his new arms into a double biceps pose, the peaks surging up obscenely high, veins throbbing like they were about to burst. He flexed harder, grunting with raw pleasure as the muscles ballooned, the sheer erotic power making his own impressive bulge strain visibly against the fabric. He turned, eyes gleaming with lustful triumph, and sauntered over to the shrunken donor.

The new muscle stud struck another pose, his pecs exploding outward in thick, juicy slabs while his lats flared wide. He groaned, voice deeper, sexier. One huge hand casually palmed his own bulging crotch, squeezing the fat, heavy cock that now matched his godlike body.

He leaned down close to Bryce’s wide-eyed, humiliated face, still casually flexing one colossal arm inches from the smaller man’s nose. The scent of raw masculinity, sweat, power, and stolen dominance washed over him.

The man said in a low voice with a smug grin behind his mask:

"Thank you for your donation"

[kemerooter]

Be careful wishing your partner was as big as you —

Some wishes have consequences

and side effects

that you may not have asked for

but enjoy regardless

(credits to the owner of the original image)

[betweenthelinesfiction]

Lucky Charm

Disclaimer: This story was proofread by AI. I suck as spelling.

Pete tore through his locker, shoving aside damp towels and sweaty socks that reeked of too many hours on the field as he frantically searched for his treasured lucky charm. His grandmother had given the delicate clover pendant to him when he was six, promising it would bring him luck. He’d worn it through every tackle, every workout, every winning pass. It wasn’t just a charm at this point. It was part of him, just like the light brown hair plastered to his sweaty forehead or the steely blue eyes that made girls swoon. His chest heaved, and his heart slammed against his ribs in panic at the thought of playing the big game tonight without it.

“Rhys!” Pete’s deep voice echoed off the tiled walls, thick with desperation. His teammate lounged on a bench, lacing up his cleats. “Have you seen my charm? I swear it was here before I hit the showers.”

Rhys snorted, barely glancing up. “You’re the golden boy who can do no wrong. You don’t need some pussy charm.” His dark eyes flicked over, taunting. “Man up.”

Pete’s jaw clenched, his pretty-boy face, golden tan, chiselled lines, twisting into something harder. “Just tell me if you’ve seen it, asshole.”

“Nah.” Rhys stood with the swagger of a cocky college jock and sauntered toward the field. “Check your panties, bro. Maybe it’s tangled up in there.”

The door slammed, leaving Pete alone with the buzz of the shitty locker room lights and the stench of stale sweat. He ripped into his duffel again, biceps bulging as he tore through its contents. Nothing. His pulse spiked, a cold sweat prickling his neck. Something was wrong. The air felt too thick. A wave of dizziness hit him, and the room tilted. He gripped the locker door, knuckles white, growling, “Pull it together. You don’t need a stupid charm.” But his voice trembled with doubt.

Then it started.

A pull, deep in his gut, like his insides were collapsing. Pete sucked in a shocked breath, his broad chest shuddering as he staggered back, big feet kicking over the bench behind him. His legs, those tree-trunk quads honed from years on the field, quivered. He stared down, heart pounding, as the hard muscle softened, shrinking like it was melting away. His skin tingled, a cold emptiness spreading across his body, as if his very vitality were draining away. His calves, once meaty and veined, flattened into frail sticks. “What the fuck…” His voice cracked, horror seeping in.

His arms went next. The biceps that powered his game-winning throws withered, veins sinking beneath increasingly pale skin, his saucer-sized hands shrinking away. His shoulders slumped, narrow and weak. He felt light, hollow, as his 6’4” frame collapsed inward. His jersey sagged off a bony shoulder, sweatpants pooling around his slimming hips. Cold air bit his skin, before a new panic clawed at him.

His cock, his pride, thick and heavy, was shrinking too. He grabbed at it, small hands fumbling, desperate to hold onto what defined him. But it dwindled to nothing, his balls shrinking to pathetic pebbles. “No, no, fuck no!” he screamed, but it came out as a reedy squeak that churned his stomach. His body wasn’t his anymore. It was betraying him. 

Pete stumbled to the mirror, weak legs barely holding him up. The reflection was a stranger. No chiselled jaw, no piercing blue eyes. Just a soft, round face, eyes wide with panic, a weak chin, and thin hair. His ribs poked out under pale, hairless skin, his abs gone, his frame frail. He wasn’t a jock anymore. He was nothing. His mind screamed. Without the necklace, who was he? Not the star quarterback. Not the guy who owns every room he walks into. Just… nothing. His hands shook, clawing at his chest, desperate for the familiar weight of the clover pendant.

The door banged open, and Rhys stormed in, meaty fingers fumbling with his helmet. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the scrawny kid drowning in Pete’s clothes. “Who the fuck are you?” he barked, crossing the room in two strides. “Some twink sneaking in to jack Pete’s shit? Get out!”

“Rhys, it’s me!” Pete pleaded, voice breaking. He reached out, but Rhys grabbed his skinny wrist, twisting it effortlessly. Pain shot through him, his frail body folding to his friend’s superior strength.

“Bullshit.” Rhys shoved him hard, sending him stumbling into the hall. “Get your bony ass outta here before I kick it in.” The door slammed, locking Pete out of the locker room, and with it, the life he’d known.

He sank against a nearby wall, breath shallow, hands shaking as they clutched his slim neck where the necklace should have been. His luck had run out.

Across town…

Lars stood alone in his boyfriend’s bathroom, toying with the latch of a silver chain, a clover pendant dangling against his scrawny chest. He’d swiped it from Pete during a tutoring gig, thinking it’d spice up his roleplay with Sammy. Sammy loved it when Lars pretended to be the jock, despite his lanky frame, pale skin, and shy, wide eyes. He worked the clasp, admiring how it hung low on his thin chest. Finally, it clicked into place, and he stood back to admire his stolen trinket. It was the perfect prop from the golden boy himself.

It started slow. A simmering heat bloomed in his chest before spreading like molten lava through his veins. The pendant pulsed, glowing a pale green, syncing with his racing heartbeat. “Oh god, what’s happening?” he whimpered, voice trembling, head pounding with fear. Then came an electric buzz that made his breath catch. It was starting to feel good.

CRACK. A raw, electric jolt hit him, igniting his bones. Lars grunted, stumbling back as his body erupted. The heat surged, a wildfire consuming him, his meagre muscles spasming as they clawed outward. His forearms thickened, veins bulging like twisted ropes. His biceps ballooned into meaty peaks, splitting his t-shirt sleeves, the fabric tearing as he flexed, power surging like a drug.

The fire hit his chest next. His pecs swelled into thick slabs, stretching his shirt until it groaned and tore down the centre. He ran his hands over them, fingers digging into the firm, hot flesh, feeling the weight and mass. “Fuck… yes,” he growled, voice dropping an octave. His shoulders broadened, deltoids bulging unnaturally, making him wider, more imposing. His spine cracked, stretching him taller—6’0” to 6’2”, then 6’4”—the ceiling closing in as his skeleton shifted to accommodate his growing mass. The room shrank around him as he began to take up more and more space.

It was as if the necklace was giving Lars every advantage Pete had ever had. The dividends of all those years of gruelling workouts, of meticulous healthy eating, of sun-soaked afternoons on the football field, were now paying off for Lars and Lars alone.

His legs trembled as the transformation roared downward. His thighs thickened, quads piling on striated muscle, splitting his shorts at the seams. His calves bulged, veins snaking to his feet, which burst through his sneakers, his size 8s morphing into monstrous 14s, toes curling as his body was wracked with pleasure and pain. His ass hardened into granite orbs, straining his trunks as his hips widened. He moaned, the deep, guttural sound reverberating through the room.

But the real rush hit his groin. His cock swelled, growing hotter, heavier, and lengthening inch by torturous inch. The elastic of his trunks snapped, unable to contain the girth as his shaft surged free, thick veins pulsing. It was monstrous. Three times its original size, impossibly thick, the head swollen and glistening with pre-cum. He gripped it, his enlarged hand barely wrapping around, stroking slowly, savouring the ecstatic jolts. “Ohhh, fuck yeah,” he moaned, hips bucking, a primal need overtaking him. His balls churned, swelling heavy and full, testosterone flooding his system.

The pleasure was unbearable, a mix of agony and euphoria. He yanked off his shredded clothes, standing naked and massive, every muscle flexing as he admired himself. His red hair was wilder, sweat-soaked, his eyes sharper with newfound confidence. His pale skin stretched over a body that screamed dominance, broad shoulders, chiselled abs, and a cock that could split a man in two. He loved what he saw in the mirror, and what he felt beneath his fingertips as he explored every curve and line of his growing form.

But the change wasn’t only physical. His mind twisted with each pulse of growth. Confidence drowned out his nerdy insecurities. Power coursed through him, rewriting him into a man who took what he wanted. He squeezed his massive nuts, snarling at the pleasure-pain, imagining the world bending to his will.

Sammy burst in, drawn by the guttural moans shaking the apartment. He froze. Lars stood before the dirty bathroom mirror, a towering epitome of raw masculinity. His dirty red hair curled wild and sweaty over his forehead, framing light blue eyes that burned with a feral glint. His flushed pink skin, stretched tight over a mountain of muscle, glistening with sweat, thick veins pulsing beneath. His biceps bulged obscenely, larger than most men’s thighs, and deep striations carved across his meaty pecs as they heaved with each breath. His quads twitched, massive and unyielding, forcing his stance wide, while his ass was hard, plump, and begged to be grabbed. At his groin, a monstrous cock hung heavy, veins snaking along its length, the head swollen and dripping.  

“Lars, what the…” Sammy choked, voice trembling. Lars turned, towering over him, grin predatory. “Get on your knees, Sammy. Now.”

Sammy hesitated, his heart hammering. This wasn’t his Lars. But his cock betrayed him, aching for the monster before him. “Lars, I…” he stammered, but Lars’ piercing gaze silenced him. He dropped, hands trembling as they reached for the impossible girth.

Lars grabbed Sammy’s head, fingers knotting in his hair, shoving him closer. “Suck it,” he ordered, hips thrusting forward. Sammy’s lips stretched wide, struggling to take the swollen head, gagging as it battered his throat. Lars groaned, the wet heat sending shocks up his spine. He thrust harder, loving Sammy’s choking, the way his slender hands gripped his thighs. “Fuck yeah, take it,” he growled, hips pumping with brutal rhythm. Sammy slurped, spit dripping down his chin, driven by desperate lust.

Lars’ body fed off the dominance, biceps swelling as he flexed, chest heaving. His cock thickened in Sammy’s mouth, stretching his lips further. He could feel Sammy’s submission, his trembling frame, and it fueled him. “You’re mine,” he snarled, shoving deeper, fucking Sammy’s throat with abandon. His balls tightened, the pressure building.

Sammy’s hands roamed Lars’ abs and quads, worshipping the god he’d become. Lars flexed, showing off his mass, the raw masculinity owning the room. The necklace pulsed one last time. Lar’s height ticked to 6’5” and his shoulders widened, accentuating his v-taper even more. His vascularity and muscle feathering surged as his cock pulsed bigger still. Sammy gagged harder, tears streaming. But he didn’t stop. He was too consumed by lust for the god standing before him.

The climax hit like a tidal wave. Lars roared, slamming into Sammy’s throat with a one deep, savage thrust. His cock pulsed, erupting in thick, hot volleys that flooded Sammy’s mouth, spilling out as he choked. Lars threw his head back in ecstasy as the climax rolled over him, his muscles twitching and his body trembling. As the pleasure subsided, he pulled out, his shaft still hard and glistening with spit and cum. With a flick of his hand, he unceremoniously smeared his dripping mushroom head across Sammy’s face. “Good boy,” he rumbled, voice thick with satisfaction.

Sammy slumped, panting, his face a mess of cum and sweat. “You’re… unreal,” he rasped. Lars loomed over him, radiating heat and musk. “Fuck, I could get used to this,” he growled, voice dripping with arrogance. 

Sammy’s eyes raked over Lars’ new colossal form, his gaze lingering on the obscene cock that was still pointing right at him. Sammy rose, hands sliding up Lars’ sweat-slick thighs, until he was level with Lars’ plump pecs. He briefly looked up at the handsome face above him before turning away. The tower of muscle above him was a walking wet dream. But what happened to the kind and caring Lars that he used to know? 

After a few moments of silence, Lars grabbed his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. In those light blues, Sammy saw a familiar kindness that made his heart melt. With that, Lars yanked him close, crashing their lips together in a tender embrace. When they broke apart, Lars smirked, “How’s that for roleplay?” tossing Sammy a cheeky wink.

If you like my stories and want to support my writing, please consider shouting me a coffee over on ko-fi.

[troyjump]

Elijah has a body that is my inspiration to become a muscle freak.

[bennynoah]

"AAAHNN fuck yeah keep it coming bro, watch me flex and grow into the man you'll never be.. stealing all your muscles and testosterone, fuuuck yeah making me all sweaty and horny as FUCK.. c'mere bro.."

[alpha-male-stef]

They met online.

He swiped right the instant that fiery strawberry-red hair and those plump, peachy ass cheeks filled his screen. The photo showed the boy bent slightly forward in tight shorts, the fabric stretched obscenely over two smooth, round globes that begged to be spread. His cock twitched hard in his jeans just imagining it—burying his face between those cheeks, tongue dragging over that tight, pretty pink hole nestled in a soft patch of strawberry fuzz. The contrast was intoxicating: pale, freckled skin against his own deep bronze Latino body.

A match. Heart pounding, he fired off the first message: “Your face is fucking beautiful, but that ass… I can’t stop staring.”

The redhead—Red, he called himself—replied almost instantly, flirty and eager. Their chat flowed effortlessly from compliments to teasing, then straight into raw heat. “I’m a total bottom,” Red confessed after a few exchanges. “Love being told what to do. Submissive as fuck.” Perfect. He was a tall, muscled Latino top with a thick cock and an even thicker dominant streak. The planned dinner date dissolved quickly into something far better: “Come to my place tonight. We’ll drink wine… and see what happens.”

Red opened the door wearing nothing but tight black briefs that barely contained his hardening little cock and left most of his smooth, pale ass on display. He was smaller, almost delicate compared to the towering, broad-shouldered man who stepped inside. The moment the door clicked shut, the air thickened with lust. They tried to talk—sipping wine on the couch, making small talk about jobs and hobbies—but hands moved faster than words. Strong bronze fingers slid over Red’s slim waist, pulling him close until their bodies pressed together.

Their mouths crashed. Tongues circled and fought, wet and hungry, saliva already slicking chins as they devoured each other. He gripped Red’s peachy ass with both hands, squeezing the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks, spreading those cheeks apart through the thin fabric. Red moaned into his mouth, grinding back like a needy slut. The top’s cock surged to full hardness, throbbing painfully against the confines of his shorts, a thick, heavy bulge that Red couldn’t ignore.

“Fuck… feel how hard you made me,” he growled, guiding Red’s smaller hand down. The redhead’s eyes widened as his fingers brushed the massive outline. With trembling excitement, Red dropped to his knees right there in the living room, yanking the shorts down. Out sprang seven thick inches of veiny Latino cock—insanely girthy, thicker than the boy’s own wrist, the fat shaft pulsing with need. The head was swollen and leaking, shiny with precum. Red stared, mesmerized and a little intimidated.

“Oh my god… it’s so fucking thick,” he whispered, voice hoarse with lust. He needed both hands just to wrap around the monstrous shaft, his fingers barely meeting. The girth was obscene—thicker than a fist at the base, heavy balls hanging beneath, covered in dark hair. Red’s pretty pink tongue darted out, licking a long stripe from balls to tip, savoring the salty taste. Then he opened wide, stretching his lips obscenely around the fat head, sucking greedily while both hands pumped the rest of the shaft he couldn’t fit in his mouth.

The top groaned, tangling fingers in that strawberry-red hair, guiding him deeper. “That’s it, baby. Worship it. You’re gonna take every inch in that tight pink hole tonight.” Red moaned around the cock, drooling messily, spit running down his chin and dripping onto his own leaking little dick still trapped in his briefs. The top face-fucked him slowly at first, savoring the wet heat and the desperate gagging sounds as Red tried—and failed—to deepthroat the impossible thickness.

He pulled Red up, stripping him completely. The boy’s body was smooth and pale, cock small and cute, standing straight up against his flat stomach, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. But it was that ass that commanded attention—two perfect, jiggling globes with the cutest strawberry fuzz framing a winking, virgin-tight pink pucker. He bent Red over the couch, spreading those cheeks wide. His tongue attacked without mercy, lapping at the sensitive hole, pushing inside, eating him out like a starving man while Red whimpered and pushed back, begging for more.

“P-please… fuck me,” Red gasped, voice breaking. “I need that fat cock inside me.”

Lubed up and stretched with thick fingers, Red was still whimpering when the blunt, massive head pressed against his entrance. The top gripped those slim hips and pushed. The boy’s hole stretched obscenely around the girth, a long, broken moan spilling from his lips as inch after thick inch sank in. The burn was intense, the fullness overwhelming—Red’s smaller body trembled, ass clenching rhythmically around the invading cock.

“Fuck, you’re so tight… taking me like a good little slut,” the top growled, bottoming out with his heavy balls pressed against Red’s. He paused only a moment before pulling back and slamming in again, setting a brutal rhythm. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, Red’s peachy ass rippling with every powerful thrust. He reached around, stroking Red’s small cock in time, edging him mercilessly while pounding that prostate.

They moved to the bedroom. Red rode him next, strawberry hair bouncing as he impaled himself again and again on that wrist-thick cock, moaning like a whore, hands braced on the top’s muscular chest. Sweat slicked their bodies—bronze against pale. The top flipped him onto his back, legs pushed to his chest, folding the smaller man in half as he drove deep. Red’s eyes rolled back, mouth open in constant ecstasy, drooling as he came hands-free, shooting thin ropes across his own stomach while his hole spasmed wildly around the pounding shaft.

But the top wasn’t done. He kept fucking through Red’s orgasm, chasing his own, until finally he buried himself to the hilt and unloaded. Thick, hot spurts of cum flooded Red’s wrecked hole, so much it leaked out around the still-throbbing cock. They stayed locked together, panting, kissing sloppily as the redhead’s body twitched with aftershocks.

The top stayed buried deep inside Red’s cum-filled hole, savoring the way the boy’s walls fluttered and clenched around his still-hard thickness. Thick ropes of his load were already leaking out around the massive shaft, dripping down over Red’s smooth balls. He gave a lazy thrust, pushing the cum deeper, and Red whimpered softly, oversensitive but still grinding back like a needy little cockslut.

“Ten minutes? Fuck that,” the top growled, pulling out slowly with a wet, obscene sound. A gush of warm cum followed, sliding down the cleft of that perfect peachy ass. “On your stomach. Ass up. I want to see what I just wrecked.”

Red obeyed instantly, submissive instincts taking over. He arched his back deeply, knees spread wide, pushing that reddened, puffy hole upward. The strawberry fuzz around his entrance was matted with spit, lube, and cum. The sight made the top’s heavy cock throb again, still glistening with their combined juices. He slapped one pale cheek hard, watching it jiggle, then the other, leaving faint handprints on the soft flesh.

“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured, spreading Red’s cheeks wide with both hands. The stretched hole winked at him, visibly pulsing, pushing out another thick glob of cum. He leaned in and dragged his tongue over it, tasting himself mixed with the boy’s sweet musk, before shoving his tongue back inside. Red moaned loudly into the sheets, pushing back desperately.

After a few minutes of messy rimming, the top climbed back on, mounting him like a breeding bull. He lined up his still-leaking cock and slammed in with one brutal thrust, bottoming out in a single stroke. Red cried out, fists clutching the sheets, his smaller body jolting forward. The new angle was even deeper, the fat head battering his prostate with every thrust.

“Take it. Take every fucking inch,” the top grunted, pounding him hard. Skin slapped loudly against skin. He gripped that fiery red hair like reins, pulling Red’s head back so he could hear every desperate moan and whimper. Red’s own little cock was trapped beneath him, leaking steadily onto the sheets as he got fucked senseless.

The top flipped him onto his side next, lifting one leg high so he could watch his thick shaft disappear between those pale cheeks. He reached around and stroked Red’s cock roughly, edging him mercilessly while drilling into that greedy hole. “You’re gonna cum again for me, baby. I want to feel you squeeze my cock while I fill you up a second time.”

Red was a mess—sweat-slicked, strawberry hair sticking to his forehead, mouth open, eyes glassy with pleasure. His second orgasm hit him like a wave. He came with a broken sob, shooting weak spurts over the top’s fist while his hole clamped down like a vice. The intense squeezing finally pushed the top over the edge. He buried himself balls-deep and unloaded again, pumping rope after heavy rope of thick cum deep into Red’s guts until it was overflowing, running down his thigh in creamy rivulets.

They collapsed together, the top’s muscular body pinning the smaller redhead down. His cock was still half-hard inside him, plugging the mess. He kissed Red’s neck, biting gently, then whispered hotly against his ear, “Good boy. But we’re not done. I’m staying the night… and that pretty pink hole is getting used until you can’t walk straight tomorrow.”

Red shivered with anticipation, turning his head for a deep, sloppy kiss. “Please… use me,” he breathed, already clenching around the cock still inside him. “I want everything.”

An hour later, after a quick shared shower where the top couldn’t resist bending Red over and fucking him against the tiles until he came again, they were back in bed. This time the top had Red riding him reverse cowgirl, hands gripping those plump ass cheeks and spreading them wide so he could watch every inch of his wrist-thick cock stretching that ruined hole. Red bounced eagerly, strawberry hair bouncing, moaning shamelessly as he impaled himself over and over.

The room smelled of sex—sweat, cum, and raw lust. The top spanked him rhythmically, urging him faster, then pulled him down hard to grind deep. He reached up, pinching Red’s sensitive nipples, making the boy arch and cry out.

By the time the sun started creeping toward dawn, Red had been fucked in every position they could manage—missionary with his legs over the top’s shoulders, doggy with his face pressed into the mattress, even pressed against the wall like a cheap whore. His hole was swollen, gaping slightly, leaking a steady stream of multiple loads down his thighs. His voice was hoarse from moaning, body trembling with exhaustion and pleasure.

The top finally pulled him close, spooning him from behind, sliding back into that warm, cum-slick heat one last time for a slow, lazy fuck as they drifted toward sleep.

“Mine tonight,” he growled possessively, one strong arm wrapped around Red’s smaller body. “And if you’re good… maybe every night this week.”

Red just moaned softly, pushing back to take him deeper, completely spent and utterly satisfied.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

[alphajocklover]

Hey brah it's me! Got an idea for you Starting out as either a nerdy gay british foreign teacher or a nerdy gay british foreign student, the mc becomes a college aged all-american hunk and football jock

Going from slim, scrawny, pale and dark haired beta boy to a muscular, handsome, hung and powerful conservative american alpha. Gay to straight [or bi!]

He's transformed by a butterfly tf [my fav!] that changed an ancestor and rewrote his genes

I love the idea of his dick changing people but if you don't like female tfs then don't include it. Either way maybe there's a scene of him slamming cheerleader pussy before cutting to him losing stress pounding twink bussy

Happy 4th July bro!

George knew it was a cliche, but as a brit, he absolutely hated the fourth of July. It wasn’t the holiday itself he hated. Back when he actually lived in England he never really thought about it because, well, why would he? No one celebrates the independence day of a country that they have no connection to, even if some Americans weirdly assume all people celebrate the 4th. It was only after George moved to America for college that he began to despise the holiday. The barbecues and celebrations were fine, even if they could be a little much for George’s taste, and the fireworks were actually pretty great, despite how loud they could get. What George hated about the holiday were the kind of people it seemed to draw out. From loud frat boys that were too dumb to know they shouldn’t get drunk before messing around with explosives, to overly patriotic hicks who used the holiday as an excuse to scream about their politics and demonize anyone who disagrees with them, the 4th always seemed to bring out the craziest kinds of people. People who George, sadly, seemed to always run into on the 4th of July. For the three years George had been living in America the pattern was always the same, every 4th of July he’d be forced to leave his house for whatever random reason, and spend the rest of the night being harassed and humiliated. He wasn’t sure why he never seemed to run into anyone nice on the 4th of July. He had met plenty of nice Americans on other days of the year, but on the 4th he only ever ran into people who hated him, people who saw him – openly gay and stereotypically English – and figured harassing him was a good way to celebrate their independence. This year however, George had had enough of it. This year, George was absolutely determined not to leave the house.

The first time George had been caught outside on the 4th of July, he had actually come willingly. He had been convinced by some of the other freshmen he had befriended to go out and celebrate with them, to see the foreign holiday with his own eyes. He had actually had fun, for the first half an hour. Then he got separated from his friends while at the fireworks, and accidentally caught the eye of one of the members of the football team. He spent an hour being mocked and bullied by the obnoxiously patriotic jocks, and left before the fireworks even started. The next year he had planned to stay inside, but had forgotten to buy some groceries, so he decided to quickly head to a store a few blocks away. On his way he walked past a local barbeque, and the grillmaster heard his British accent when he answered a spam call. George remembered an entire crowd of people throwing half empty beer cans at him as he was screamed at by the man working the grill to ‘go suck a teabag.’ Last year he had been determined to sleep through the entire day, only for a broken AC unit to force him out of the house, where a drunk man almost immediately threw a lit firework at him. George was able to get inside before it went off, and had to admit that that incident probably had more to do with horrible luck and a careless drunk rather than someone purposely targeting him like the other two, but it had still managed to put him off of the holiday for good. This year, George was absolutely determined not to leave his house. He had locked his doors, bought supplies, had the AC and the plumbing checked out, and planned to curl up in his room with his noise canceling headphones and some ice cream. He was certain he wouldn’t have to leave his house this year. But even that wouldn’t protect him.

George had just grabbed his headphones and scooped himself a bowl of ice cream when he heard a knock on the door. He groaned, and put down his chocolate ice cream with a miserable look on his face. He knew something was going to ruin this. He reluctantly walked over, too polite to just leave the door unanswered. Before he could open it though, something slid under the door. As George picked it up, he realized it was an envelope, one that was blank apart from an American Flag drawn onto it. George knew, almost instinctively, that he shouldn’t open it. At best this was some sort of annoying card for a holiday he’d rather forget, and at worst this was going to be some sort of weird prank. But something in George hesitated to just throw it out. His curiosity, or perhaps some other force, got the best of him. He struggles with the envelope for a moment, before tearing it open… and covering the room with a spray of red, white and blue glitter. 

George groaned as the glitter settled in all around him. Of course the stupid thing was filled with glitter. It was a strange prank, since if he had been more careful with the envelope, he wouldn’t have spread the glitter all over the place, but somehow he had managed to fall for it anyway. He grabbed his icecream, which sadly was also covered in glitter, and tossed it out, before going to the sink to wash both the dish and his skin. 

As George attempted to wash the glitter off of his hands, he noticed something strange was happening. As he rubbed his hands together, the glitter seemed to disappear, not washing away but almost seeming to dissolve. George thought it might be some sort of water soluble paper glitter… until he began to feel the glitter on his face sink into his skin. George tried to pull the glitter off of his arms and face in a panic, but found the glitter just wouldn’t come off. As the glitter was absorbed into his skin, he felt a strange warmth come over him, as strange images flashed within his mind.

It was like his mind had been transported hundreds of years into the past. Or perhaps 250 years, to be more exact. He could see a woman, wearing a lavish blue gown, that he could somehow instinctively tell was one of his ancestors. He saw her at a party, dancing with a scrawny British officer he had no doubt was related to him too, when suddenly the scene shifted. Instead of a British officer, the redcoat had been replaced by a dashing, muscular blond gentleman that George could just tell was a part of the revolution. The past continued to shift. Instead of going back to England, the woman would stay here, with him. Instead of giving birth to a young English woman who would one day give birth to George’s great-great-great-great-great grandmother, she gave birth to several strapping young lads who followed in their fathers steps, helping run the small new country he had fought to create. But it wasn’t just her though. George's mind raced with hundreds of images, of women he somehow knew were his ancestors being torn away from their rightful place in history, and seduced by strong, American cock. 

As George’s mind was drowned in his new American heritage, his body began to change, rewritten just as his past was. A pale tan was replaced by a perfect golden tan, as Geroge shot up almost a foot in height and began to pack on muscles, his new american genetics having been almost handpicked to make him the perfect stud. He could feel his body morph, his pecs push out and his biceps become pythons, as he became exactly like all the other men in his new family, sexy, dominant, muscular American gods. 

As the changes finished and the waves of new thoughts and feelings receded just enough for the man who used to George to think, he felt a warm confidence come over him. Fuck he felt so… good. What had he just been doing? His head felt so heavy, and he couldn’t seem to remember much. He looked up as the sudden boom of distant fireworks cut through his confusion. Fuck, it was the 4th! How the fuck had he forgotten? Paul – that was his name, right? – couldn’t believe he had almost forgotten the most important fucking day of the year. He had always loved the 4th of July, ever since he was a little kid and his pop took him out to see the fireworks. Every year he went wild on the forth, fireworks and family fun having evolved into drinking, hanging out with his bros, and breeding good American girls in the name of his country. He rushed out the door of his apartment, not realizing it looked nothing like it had an hour ago, and headed downstairs. Maybe he could still have some fun before the night was up. With his all american muscles and footlong cock, he should have no problem convincing some blond bitch to let him raw dog her under the glow of the fireworks. 

Paul swaggered out of his apartment building, his american flag tanktop pulled tight over his bulging pecs. It was time for Paul to have some good, old fashioned, American fun. It was his duty after all, as a true American.

[thisdoesntmatteritsforme]

I must say, at first I wasn’t a fan of having to DEI our frat house to meet the university standars, but when you select the correct gay guys, they sure know how to be helpful really fast.

[asnir96]

(via thisdoesntmatteritsforme)

[musclegrowth-12]

(via asnir96)