Muscle Gain

at all possible cost. Would do anything for muscle. Please submit a suggestion...

[marcoh1234]

New Gym

By: jockdudes95

The name is Misha. I have two sisters and three brothers but they’re not particularly involved in this story.

I’m eighteen. So I’m legal. Don’t worry. All the salacious things I do in this story are on the up and up. Before I show you what I look like now, I figure I should start at the beginning. This is how it started. Look at me. 

I didn’t look half bad. But I had to get bigger. I had to get stronger. I have three brothers I have to catch up to. Three shadows to step out from under. I tried exercising and I joined gyms but nothing was helping. My body wasn’t getting bigger or stronger.

Then I was approached.

I was walking home. There he was. A guy I had seen a few times in the gym but he was bigger now than he had been two weeks ago. Taller. At least half a foot. Thicker. He was coated in sweat and playing basketball. He peered over and motioned me over.

“Come here.” He said with a smile that could moisten any woman up. His biceps flexed as he pointed at the ground in front of him. His pecs popped. Not gonna lie, my cock twitched. 

I walked over. Stood where he pointed.

“You trying to pump up? I see you at the gym a lot.”

“Yeah. I want… To look like You.”

That made his smirk widen. “Me, huh? What if I said you could… Be like me… And bigger?”

I looked at him. His thick full pecs. His abs. His thick biceps. They were big. I looked down. He saw my eyes trailing. He smirked and lifted his shorts. He showed off those thick thighs. Then he cupped his stuffed package.

“Like the view, little jock?” I could see the fat tube of his cock as he gripped his crotch and flexed his thighs.

“I can… Get… Bigger than this?”

He grinned. “Yes. Bigger… Here…. Here.. Here…” He patted his chest, biceps, thighs, then gave his cock a stroke. “And here…”

Something about it made my knees weak. Something about the way it pulsed within the confines of his shorts, throbbed between thick thighs. I wanted to see it.

“I… I want… To be bigger. Make me like you.”

He patted my shoulder. “Alright. Follow me. I got a gym for you to join.”

“A gym? I’m already in a gym.”

He laughed. “That’s not a gym. That’s bull. I go there to recruit people for a real gym. I find the ones with the most potential. And right now. It’s you. Name’s Blaine. Let’s go. The Himbo Project is where you need to be… Now first. What’s your name?”

-=-=-=-=-

The building he took me to didn’t look like much. But when I went inside it was not what I expected.

There were the usual pieces of workout equipment. But none of that caught my eye quite like all the men around. All the built. Sweaty. Muscular. Thickly built. Half naked. Tall. Jocks. The area had a circulating air purifier. But even then the whole building smelled of men. Of testosterone. Of raw pure masculinity. 

One walked over. His eyes falling in me. He had four inches of height on me. His body glistening under the lights.

“Yo. Blaine. This the newbie?” The guy spoke with an accent. His pecs bounced with each breath.

“This is him. His name is Misha. Misha, this is Luis. He’s been with us for a month. He looked like you when he got here. He’s going to help you get stronger. Bigger. Luis, remember, no rough stuff.”

“Oh come on. The last guy liked it… ” Luis sneered and slapped his own pec. “Ok. Fine. Come on. Gonna give you your first case of Jock Brews. Will tell you how the different types of brew work. Then you choose whichever you want. Then… Well the fun begins…”

-=-=-=-=-

There are several kinds of Jock Serum. They came in cans that made me think of beer. Jock Serum: Original, Jock Serum X-Treme, Jock Serum XXXL, and Jock Serum XXXL Max.

“The original is good. Weakest type. Good for beginners.” Made sense. It was the largest can. Looking like a 32 ounce beer can. “The Max is the strongest stuff.” Luis explained. It’s why it comes in smaller bottles. Like those 5 hour energy drink shots.

“I want the Max.” Luis looked at me as I said that.

“You got balls, kid.” He said with a smirk. “This stuff is strong. And there’s side effects.”

“Don’t care. I want it.” 

Luis nodded and motioned to the small case on the table. “Take one and let’s go. Your training starts now.”

I emptied the small bottle. I felt the effects immediately. I could do do this…

-=-=-=-=-

I forgot how it’s been. Time just flew by during training. Strength, durability, stamina. It was grueling. I also downed so many of the tiny bottles; one at a time at first then I got impatient. I chugged four of them.

That night I underwent the biggest change. The pain surpassed everything else. Then came the pleasure. I called for Luis and he saw what I did… But, rather than rat me out, he took me to “the education annex” in the basement of the gym. He sat me down. 

“You want to get bigger… Right? Look at you. Looking good. Better than before. Now though comes the real training…”

“Real training?” My chest felt tighter in my shirt. My biceps felt bigger.

“I’m going to put this VR headset on you… And you’re going to sit back… But first. Drink.” He held out a bottle of XXXL Max. Bigger than the others. I chugged it. He slid the VR set over my head. The earphones slid on comfortably.

“Hey, Bro. Can you hear me?” The voice echoed in my ears. “Stand up if you can. Good… Look at the colors. They’re nice, right? Sink into them. Like quicksand. Sink into the colors.”

I felt heavy yet weightless. I was standing. I had gotten up. On command.

“Time for you to learn what this whole gym is about, Bro. Gonna learn what the Himbo Project and the Serum are for. What you were selected for. You’re not just any guy picked up off the street. You’re a bro. Well, you will be. You will be soon enough. For now, sink into the colors. Swirling, pulsing, writhing light, let it burrow into your subconscious. Let my voice sink into your brain. Your cute tiny and soon to be shrinking brain. You’re smart. But you won’t be for long. 

Here’s what I want you to do. You took that concentrated XXXLMax. It’ll hit you in a second. When you do, the pain is going to wash over you like a goddamn tidal wave. Fight through it. Bite your lip. Flex. That’s what you need to do. Flex. Feel it? Feel it now? Washing over you? Pulsing pain, throbbing pain, coursing through your body?”

The pain hit as he said it, as he spoke about it. It was like an electrical charge down my spine. I groaned, stars flashing before my eyes as the pain increased.

“Flex. Flex you stupid ass. Flex you dumb motherfucker. Flex!”

I raised my arm. It felt like lead. I flexed my bicep. Immediately, there was pleasure. It coursed through me, starting at the bicep then spreading out. Another pulse of pain and I gasped.

“Flex again. Come on, bro. You know you felt that. You felt that pleasure. Flex.”

I flexed again, my bicep thickening and bulging as I did so and the pleasure washing over me.

“Oh, Oh Fuck.” I groaned and writhed a bit on my feet. 

“Good boy. Listen to my voice. Take it in. Let it sink into your mind. Your brain is shrinking. Your intelligence is slipping. All that matters is getting big, getting jocked, getting swole, bigger hot, getting sweaty. Be a bro. Flex.”

I did. The pleasure coursed through me again.

“You’re gonna be so stupid, bro. You’re gonna smile like an idiot when someone calls you dumb. Flex again. Both arms this time.”

I shuddered, both arms raised, flexed, and the pleasure increased, doubled, spread.

“You’re growing. Getting bigger. Your body is growing. Every time you flex, you get bigger. You get dumber. You feel it, don’t you? Yeah. Keep going. The bigger you get, the dumber you get. Flex. Yeah, don’t stop. You want to flex, you want to show off, you want to empty your brain. Thinking is an anchor, it keeps you from getting bigger, getting stronger, getting swole. Stop thinking. Don’t think. All you need to worry about is being a bro.

Flex.” The voice repeated. I did. 

My biceps thickened. Ballooned. I felt them. I felt the muscles expand and with each expansion, I felt pleasure. I could feel it coursing through my veins. I was breathing heavily, panting.

“You are going to be a bro. A big muscle jock. A sweaty, smelly, stupid, strong, hot jock. You’ll live for being a bro. You’ll be a big muscle bitch. Yes, a bitch. That’s what you’re here for. This is what this training is for. To train you. To change you. To make you into what you want to be.

A whore. A big thick muscle whore. A dick pig. A cock slut. Make that jock hole between those thick cheeks a deep greedy muscle pussy.

You’ll exist to suck cock. You’ll live to get pumped. And get pumped; full of fat throbbing cock. Black, white, Arab, it doesn’t matter who it’s from. You’ll love it. You need it. You want your slut jock hole filled, used, gaped, abused, flooded, again and again. 

Flex.”

I groaned, my body stretched and ballooned, I felt the growth. I felt my shirt getting tighter. Too tight. I felt hands on me.

“Stay still, bro,” Luis said. I could hear him through the headphones, far but he was standing in front of me. He tore the shirt open. It fell to the ground. I didn’t see it but I felt it.

The voice in my ears continued. “Get dumb. Forget your thoughts. Clear your thoughts. Think of getting bigger, swole, think of that, nothing else. Nothing else matters. Flex. Moan. Be a good bitch. A good muscle slut. Your thick perfect beefy ass will be desired by men all over. They’ll see it. They’ll want it. And you will be happy to give it up, to raise that juicy ass up, to beg them to fuck it, to pound it, to beat it into submission. You’ll straddle any and all men that present their cocks to you and you’ll ride, you’ll post, until they empty themselves into you, and then you’ll move to the next man, and repeat, again and again. This is what you’ll be.”

Images flashed across my eyes. Images of men. Jocks. Muscular. Hot. Sweaty. Dumb.

“Look at them. Bros. Sweaty. Stupid. Swole. Big. Thick juicy cheeks. See them? You’ll look like that soon.

Watch those cheeks. Watch them jiggle. Watch them work.”

The two jocks stripped out of their singlets. Muscles flexing. Bulging. Thick biceps and full round pecs. They approached a man. He’s got a muscle gut. Wearing a hat that says Coach.

“Love Coach. Follow his orders. Coach is King. Coach is God. Coach will send you to the men who’ll use you. You exist to be used. To be a pumped up fuck pig contantly hungry for cock, insatiable. Watch them work. Watch them twerk. Dance. Flex. Now, bro. Flex.”

My pants felt tight. I flexed again. My shorts ripped down the side. 

“Watch them work. Watch them suck. Watch them swallow that daddy cock. That could be you. That will be you. You’ll be a jock. You’ll be dumb. You’ll be horny… And always prepared to flex.”

I removed the headset. Luis was standing there. Smirking. Cock bulging his shorts. He was slowly stroking it. He had watched me.

“Mirror. Go look at your new body… Enjoy it… You’re going to get bigger soon… If you like what you see… Come thank me. On your knees…jock slut.”

[derekwriteskink]

Envy is a curse

Tony hated himself, he was attractive, successful and objectively a great life. However he was blinded by envy. In his eyes there was always someone more attractive,successful and happy. He was completely unable to feel happy for himself without comparing himself to someone he felt was better. This blinding empathy turned his life into a mess, when he discovered his power. The first time he found out, was when he was staring at a picture of a man, he found on the internet. He was older and presumably in his 50’s, Tony continued to stare at the man’s body “I wish I was him” thought Tony. The thought was usual to Tony but the sensation was not, his senses began to disappear and he felt a sharp pain in his chest, as he collapsed. The next thing he felt was the hairs on his body. Tony was confused. He was barely hairy, this wasn’t normal. He felt his strong muscles and an admirable beard. He rushed to the bathroom for a mirror. Tony was blessed by the sight of himself. He was an incredibly fit, muscular and handsome man.

Tony soon discovered that the man was a doctor and had a gorgeous wife. Tony now had what he considered a near perfect life, but he wanted more. The age is a problem, thought Tony. I wish I was younger, thought Tony. Nothing happened. Tony scrolled through pictures of men until one caught his eye.

Tony saw a picture of this handsome guy and wished to be him. Tony was ecstatic when it worked, the pleasure was indescribable and he thoroughly enjoyed hours in the man’s body until his envy took hold and he found another man

Tony wished to be him recklessly and he was overwhelmed by the pleasure of his situation. Until he realised that it wasn’t a porn scene, he possessed someone that agreed to be a permanent slave. When his gag was initially removed he requested to be set free but the man removed his blindfold and Tony was blessed by the sight of the most gorgeous man that he’s ever seen. Tony thought “I wish I was him”. But he remained in the same body. Tony feared his situation, but was also still incredibly horny. Tony eventually came to the realisation that he couldn’t switch bodies while horny. “Good I’ll just wait until I’m not horny anymore” thought Tony. Unfortunately for him he’ll always be horny in this new body, his libido was insane and his master, although strict, he was also obsessed with Tony being horny and kept him that way indefinitely. Tony’s initial desire to switch bodies was replaced by his new obsession with the feelings his overwhelming new sex drive led to. He wanted to please his master and be bound always. Tony spent the rest of his life in this new body making his master happy, while constantly living in ecstasy.

[devinpink]

Fratification

Daniel was quiet and well-mannered, standing out like a sore thumb among his rowdy fraternity brothers. It wasn't his decision to join a frat; his father forced him to uphold family tradition. He tried to adjust, but it was impossible. The frat life just wasn't for him, especially as the only gay guy. "Luckily," his frat knew just how to deal with misfits. After pressuring a few beers into Daniel, weakening his resistance, they used their infamous hypno skills on his newly mushed mind. They spent all night assimilating his mind and personality into a clone copy of theirs. From that permanent conversion on, Daniel was interchangeable with any of the loud, cocky, and insanely wild frat bros.

The new and improved Daniel, "Danny-boy," is dumb as a rock, an aggressive pussyhound, and extremely obnoxious with his belches—proudly coining himself "the belch king!"

[drwannabebigger]

Svein “Genetic Anomaly” Falzon

[tf-lover]

Commission - Like Father Like Son

My first commission since opening them earlier in the week! Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who commissioned this one!

Interested in commissioning me? Check out this post for more information on rules and pricing.

“Boy, it’s do this for a day or spend two weeks picking up trash and cleaning your own graffiti off of police property.” Sheriff Willis scowled down at the young jock handcuffed in front of him. “You’ve been nothing but trouble for months Xander, and I’ve had about enough of it. So shut the fuck up with the attitude and put the damn uniform on.”

Xander averted his eyes with a murderous look of defiance plastered across his features. “Whatever, fine. I ain’t wasting two weeks on boring ass shit.”

Sheriff Willis smiled a little triumphantly and gestured at the uniform he’d hung on one of the bars of the small holding cell. “This is the right decision son-” Willis cleared his throat at the displeasure on Xander’s face at the referral, “Xander. You need to take ownership of your future if you’re ever going to have a good life and not end up in a cell like this for the rest of your life.” He rested back against the cell bars, folded his arms, then let his face ease into a small smile. “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t hate you Xander. I hate your behaviour. All young men should have a chance to succeed, you just need the right guiding hand sometimes…”

With the slightly cryptic final note, Sheriff Willis walked over and unlocked the handcuffs Xander was in, then pocketed the key and walked over to the cell door. Once there, he paused and glanced back at Xander. “Get changed and come meet me out by my desk, then we can head out in the car for the day and I’ll show you the ropes.” With that said he walked out, leaving Xander alone with the uniform. 

The angry frown didn’t leave Xander’s face for a good few minutes as he stared at the uniform across from him. He’d agreed to it, but only because he didn’t have a choice. Spend a day dealing with the sheriff or spend two weeks cleaning, it was an easy decision. An easy decision that sucked. 

“Fuckin’ stupid ass bullshit…” Xander muttered. 

In all, it took around 10 minutes of sitting annoyed before Xander actually stood up from the cold bench and swiped up the uniform. It was your typical light brown thing he always saw the sheriff wearing, which wasn’t something he really wanted to be caught dead in. He didn’t have a better option though. So with the speed of a stropping child, Xander pulled his own clothes off and then stepped into the uniform. It fit him alright; a little loose in places and a little too tight in others over his muscles, and the trousers were too long for him as well. The mere fact he of all people was in clothes that were the height of screaming ‘law-abiding citizen’ was the worst of all of this; the only thing getting him through was knowing this was all temporary. 

It took a moment for the smell of the uniform to worm his way into Xander’s nose. A heavy, dry sweat smell that he soon realised the source of. “The fuck??” He paused in the cell entrance and took a sniff of the uniform. “No way he put me in his nasty ass used shit! Disgusting pig.”

Despite his repulsion, Xander still headed out of the cell and into the main room of the sheriff’s department. One day, one single day was all he needed to get through to satisfy Willis and he’d be able to get back to his regular life. Or so he thought. 

~~~

The first hour of Xander’s day was spent sitting in the passenger seat of Willis’s car staring out the window and ignoring the guy. All he’d been asked to do was tag along for the day, so that was exactly what he was going to do. And absolutely no more. Willis could drone on and on about whatever boring pig cop stuff he wanted to, Xander wasn’t going to pay any attention. 

“-so you see that’s what we’re really looking out for when we’re cruising around like this.” The sheriff paused his explanation and glanced over at Xander. “You haven’t been listening to a word this entire hour have you? Probably haven’t even been paying attention to me stopping and talking through the ticket procedure, have you? Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised son, but you’ll get it.”

Xander was out to snap at Willis to stop calling him son when something made him hold his tongue. It wasn’t like Willis was the only person around here that referred to all the younger guys as son whether or not they were related, so what was the harm? Willis wasn’t his Dad, even if he did say that word with a weird sense of parental judgement that made Xander’s skin crawl. It was harmless though he decided, didn’t actually mean much at the end of the day. It was only a word. He could carry on with the day and just ignore it.

The heavy smell of the clothes grew more normal as the next couple of hours passed, as much as Xander loathed that. His nose was getting more used to the stench of both his uniform and the even stronger one that was coming from Sheriff Willis sat next to him. He didn’t like how normal the manly musk was getting, but short of throwing himself out the car window there was no escaping it. 

“At least this uniform doesn’t fit as badly as I thought earlier.” Xander thought to himself as he shifted a little in his seat. 

What Xander hadn’t yet noticed was his body slowly growing to properly fit the uniform. It was slow enough he was unaware, which was just as Willis had planned things. Drastic measures were needed, so over the following hours he was escorting Xander he was going to silently watch the show. 

It started out with some of his tattoos fading away under the shirt. Xander could see the ink he was so proud of as it faded; if Xander was going to fix himself up he had to have a totally clean slate. There was the faintest tingle as the ink faded to nothing and left smooth skin, but that was just the beginning. He cracked his neck from side to side and rolled his shoulders as the muscle around his torso shifted around. His chest pushed out a little to draw the uniform shirt tighter over his pecs, whilst the uncomfortable tightness around his massive biceps and shoulders eased off into a far more even showing of his muscles across his upper body. 

Only when the dirty blond hair in his face lightened and filled out did Xander really notice something was up. He could see the strands that hung just in his vision, could see as they grew and changed ever so slightly into a different cut. It shocked him out of his annoyed staring out the window, only to realise they’d been sat parked outside a house with the engine off for the last several minutes.

“What the fuck is-” Only moments after he started talking Xander realised his voice didn’t sound like it should. If anything it was closer to the sheriff’s voice than it was before, but not all the way. He grabbed his throat and frowned at Willis next to him. “What the shit is going on?? I don’t know how the hell you’re doing this but-”

“Shut the hell up son.” Sheriff Willis spoke with an unwavering dominance in his voice that stopped Xander on the spot, though he couldn’t work out why. There was just something in the command that he could bring himself to disobey, as much as he might want to. “That’s good, I see it’s finally working. Now, I’ve long been a single man you see, son. Being a gay sheriff in a small town doesn't leave a lot of options, especially when you’re a man with my tastes son. You’re someone no one's going to end up missing; an orphan with a terrible track record. They’ll all think you’ve been sent to prison son, they won’t think twice about it.” 

Every time Willis let the word ‘son’ slip from his lips when talking about Xander it felt like a hammer on his brain. He didn’t know what power the sheriff had to have physically changed him, but now that same skill was trying to push into his head. “N-No! Stop… Stop calling me son!” He tried to protest, but Willis’s command kept him locked in his seat. “I’m not…”

“Not what?” Willis said with a knowing smirk. “Not my son? You’ve certainly started to look and sound the part kiddo. You must be smart enough to have noticed that much.”

Xander had noticed. The little he could move to check his reflection in the wing mirror showed a handsome face that wasn’t too dissimilar from the sheriff’s own one, albeit a good deal more youthful. Then there was the voice he couldn’t deny had changed, and even the smell that came from the clothes originally felt like it was just coming from himself now. His body had been forced into becoming a version of himself that people would naturally assume was the sheriff’s son.

The pale dread on Xander’s face was all the confirmation Willis needed. The kid knew what was going on, now all Willis needed to do was force him to accept it.

“Don’t you want to have a loving home with a father who cares about you?” He turned in his seat a little so he was facing Xander directly. “You’ve been a little shit causing problems for everyone all over town for a long time, and I’ve had about enough of it. Stay with me and I can help you have a good life Matthew, as my son.”

The name struck a chord inside Xander. He knew it wasn’t his name, but for the life of him he couldn’t stop it ringing around inside his head even more than the ‘son’ comments had. Matthew. Matthew wasn’t him, he knew that, but what if…

“NO!” He shouted. “I’m not your goddamn son! I’m not Xander!” He froze at the accidental slip of the tongue he’d just made. “I mean, I’m not Matthew.” He corrected, but even saying those words left an odd, wrong taste in his mouth. 

The sheriff could see it all working. He was winning here, just as he knew he would. “You sure Matthew? Good christian name that, Matthew Willis. Your grandparents, god rest their souls, always wanted to make sure I picked a good christian name for my only child, so I’m glad I did with you to honour them. Wouldn’t have been best pleased with the college experimentation that led to your birth, but what they never knew can’t hurt.” Willis smiled over at the kid next to him affectionately, as if a father would his son. “Matthew, come on now. This is the better life. An upstanding young man raised alone by his father to follow in my footsteps in the local sheriff’s department, isn’t that better than a delinquent youth that’ll end up in jail soon?”

“What are you…?” Xander trailed off as what the sheriff was rambling on about began to make sense in his head. Flashes of Sheriff Willis, Anthony he now knew as the man’s first name, raising him pushed their way into his head. Hanging out at the station after school when his dad was working because he refused to stay with a sitter; trying his hardest in school to get the best grades to make his father proud of him; applying for the police academy so he really could be like his old man. “This isn’t my…” He mumbled as more memories floated in that he didn’t have the resistance to fight off. Ice-cream from the small parlour in town when they’d drive out to get him new clothes since he was growing so fast; admiring the ink on his dad’s arm as a child and getting promised he’d be taken to get his first tattoo just as soon as he was a real sheriff like his dad; the loving smile and warm hug of a father he’d never got to experience.

There was no sound from the man in the passenger seat as he sat and tried to both fight off and process all the memories of this life that flooded into his head. “And of course, I’m so happy you felt comfortable coming out to me son. It was no surprise really, I’ve been able to see it for a long time.”

Matthew’s eyes widened and shot over to Anthony’s. “What?! I’m not-”

“Hard in your uniform looking at me? It’s alright Matthew, I know. I feel the same way about you, now you’ve grown up into a proper man. I can't deny how attractive you are, and I know you think the same.” The sheriff’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and lust as he spoke the last part into existence. He’d long wished he had a handsome son he could both love as a father and more, and now he was finally creating that. “I’ve seen all the underwear that goes mysteriously missing from my washing basket and turns up in your room, I’ve seen how you look at me in our home gym.”

Despite all odds, he was hard. Xander, Matthew was hard looking at his Dad. He’d… He’d been attracted to him ever since he learned more about sex as a teenager, and now he was into his early twenties it’d only grown. The fight he’d tried to put up to cling onto being Xander was all but gone, it was inevitable with the assault of memories that worked their way in. That and Xander’s secret desire for a loving family he’d never thought possible. He was still himself as he felt Xander slipping away, that self was just as Matthew now instead. 

“You won’t have to worry about remembering anything from before Matty, that’ll all be gone soon. There’s just one thing left you’ve got to do if you’re going to fully admit you’re my son Matthew, you know what that is?” Willis raised a questioning eyebrow as he looked down at his fully formed son in the seat next to him.

Matthew did know. He didn’t know how he knew, but as he surged forwards and pulled his father into a kiss, he knew it was the right thing to do. The name Xander slipped away like a leaf in the wind as both men’s beards scratched together and tongues danced over each other; the troublesome asshole he once was gone forever. Matthew was all that was left.

~~~

One month later…

“You coming Matty? Food’s almost cooked out here, and the guests will be arriving soon.” Anthony called to his son from their back garden.

It’d been exactly a month since everything with Xander had gone down, which naturally meant a barbeque was in order to celebrate. Not that Matthew knew what the occasion was, Xander had all but been erased from his mind, but Anthony still wanted to do something to mark the occasion. Sheriff Willis and his son were hosting for anyone from the small town to drop by for a bite to eat; opening it to everyone around was just the polite thing to do in a town as small as this one. Anthony had bought enough meat for all and was a pro on the grill, and now finally had an extra pair of hands to help.

“Yeah Dad, I’ll just be one second!” Matthew called back.

Just back from a shift at the station, Matthew was part way through getting changed into more appropriate clothes when his dad had called him out, so he hurried to put the last of them on before he went to join his father outside. Not that Dad would mind him walking our perfectly naked, but the guests would sure be shocked. They didn’t need to know what went on between the pair behind closed doors after all, that was for them and them only. 

He did sneak a quick kiss from his father as he joined him by the grill to plate up the steaks, burgers and sausages that’d already been cooked though. “Here Dad.” He said with a warm smile after he pulled away from the kiss. “Anything else that needs doing?”

Anthony smiled back at his son. “If you could go grab the cool box and fill it with ice and a bunch of the beers from the fridge that’d be awesome son. And don’t forget no kissing or flirting once the guests arrive!”

Matthew, who was already halfway to their back door, glanced over his shoulder and winked. “Sure, sure, I know Dad. I’ll save that for later when it’s just the two of us yeah? We’ll see if you can finally fuck two loads out of me hands free before you cum in my ass.”

“You got a bet there kiddo!” He called back as he tried to calm the boner that was already forming in his shorts. He glanced back through the kitchen window where he could see Matthew busying himself away inside and let his face settle into a fond expression. “That kid… Best decision I ever made.”

[idesofrevolution]

Tight Squeeze

With a pep in his step and a beaming grin on his face, Javi strut down the hotel hallway with his bag in tow. The annual vacation with Tom was the one thing that he looked forward to more than anything— he and his childhood best friend made plans every year since they had graduated high school, each destination getting more and more exciting. In just ten years, they’d visited six new states and four countries. It was a far cry from their summers in rural Indiana, and each time was a new opportunity to relive those days of playing the PS3 at his house until 4 in the morning and spending every waking hour together surrounded in laughter and excitement. Now, as the lovely New York City hotel rolled out the red carpet to room 1709, the simple task of pressing his room key on the door and the click of the door unlocking marked the beginning of his yearly respite. Javi pressed his hand against the door, and pressed it wide open.

"You're early," Tom said, his voice gruffer than Javi had ever heard it.

Javi looked up from his phone, his heart skipping a beat. The hotel room looked normal, just as the website had advertised, but something was definitely off. The lights were dimmer, the air thick with an unusual musk. And there, snapping a selfie in the mirror, was Tom. Or at least, someone who looked like Tom, but this Tom was… different. His skin was covered in a fine layer of hair, his body bulging with muscles that seemed to have been photoshopped on overnight. Javi's eyes lingered on his friend's feet, noticing the way his toes curled and flexed in those dirty, sweaty black socks. He couldn't explain why, but he felt a strange mix of fear and excitement.

"What the fuck happened to you, man?" Javi's voice cracked as he took a tentative step closer. Tom's reflection in the mirror smirked, turning to face him with a swagger that was entirely foreign to him. His warm brown eyes had a feral glint to them, his teeth baring wide in a snide smirk. Javi stood frozen in place, unsure of what to do… what to say… what to think.

"You like what you see?" Tom's tone was laced with an arrogance that made Javi's cheeks burn. He couldn't help but nod, his eyes darting back to those bulging muscles and the way the fabric of Tom's jockstrap strained against his shockingly massive bulge. The smell in the room was intoxicating, a buttery stink wafted off every inch of Tom's chiseled body. Something that sent a thrill down Javi's spine and made his knees weak as Tom stepped forward, his socks squelching with every footfall and leaving a trail of sweaty footprints as he strode forward. The walk, the voice, the fact that his formerly 5'8" band geek friend was now suddenly at least 6'0" and hulked out… There was an innate panic that swelled within him, but just the carnivorous eyes that New Tom flashed at him had Javi shuddering.

Tom stepped closer, and Javi found himself backpedaling until his knees hit the bed. "Yeah, I know you do," he said with a cocky grin, his teeth gleaming like a frat boy who had just scored a winning touchdown. "I've seen the way you look at me, the way you follow me around with those puppy dog eyes." He leaned down, his breath hot and minty on Javi's cheek. "I've seen you staring at my feet, Javier. How much you want to kiss them?" His words were a taunt, a challenge wrapped in a velvet threat that made Javi's cock throb.

Javi's heart raced as he tried to form a coherent sentence. "T-Tom, what happened to you?" He swallowed hard, his eyes glued to the bulge in Tom's jockstrap. "You're not acting like yourself."

Tom flexed his biceps, his muscles rippling like waves under the dim hotel room light. He let out a deep, guttural laugh that seemed to shake the walls of the room like an earthquake. "You think?" He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, let me tell you, the old Tom is gone, baby. This is the new Tom, and boy, do you ever look like you're going to love him." He winked, his new, alpha-male persona oozing out of every pore.

Javi felt his body betraying him, his own cock straining against his pants as he took in the sight of Tom. He had always had a thing for jocks, for the way they could make him feel so… small, so insignificant, yet so desired. And now, here was his best friend, his secret crush, transformed into the epitome of masculine dominance. He could feel his resistance crumbling like a cookie in a vice, and as much as he wanted to flee, his ass remained rooted to the spot.

"T-Tom, this isn't funny," Javi stammered, his voice a mix of fear and arousal. "You need to go to the doctor, something's seriously wrong."

Tom just snickered, the sound sending a cold shiver down Javi's spine. He took a step closer, and before Javi could react, his massive, hairy hands grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him onto the bed. The mattress groaned under the weight of Tom's new form, and Javi found himself pinned down, the scent of his friend's sweat and musk enveloping him.

"There's nothing a doctor can do for me, Javier," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "This is who I am now. And it's about time you admitted who you really are, too." Tom's grip on Javi's chin tightened, forcing their faces closer together, his breath hot and minty. Javi's eyes searched Tom's, looking for some semblance of his friend, but all he found was a ravenous hunger that reflected his own hidden desires.

"What the fuck do you mean?" Javi's voice was a whisper, his body trembling beneath the weight of Tom's towering form.

Tom's grin widened, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "You know exactly what I mean," he said, his grip on Javi's chin tightening. "You've had the hots for me since we were in high school. Don't even try to deny it." His eyes bore into Javi's, and for a brief moment, Javi could see the flicker of the old Tom, the one who had been his confidant, his ally. But then it was gone, replaced by the cold, hard stare of the new Tom. The one who was in complete control.

"You're wrong," Javi protested feebly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tom's grip on his chin tightened, his thumb tracing the line of Javi's jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the power behind it. "Am I?" His eyes searched Javi's, looking for the truth that they both knew lay just beneath the surface. "You've been pining after me for years. Now's your chance to show me how much you want this." His breath was hot and minty on Javi's face, the scent of his minty breath mingling with the musky aroma of his body.

Javi's mind raced, trying to piece together how Tom could have changed so much in such a short time. It was impossible, it had to be some kind of prank, or maybe a really good costume. But the feel of those muscles beneath his fingers, the way Tom's body seemed to radiate heat and power, it was all too real. He tried to fight the urge to kiss him, to touch him, but his body was already responding, his cock straining against his pants.

Tom's grin grew wider, his eyes never leaving Javi's. "Feeling a little excited, are we?" His hand slid down to Javi's crotch, giving his erection a squeeze through the fabric. Javi's eyes went wide with shock and arousal. He couldn't believe this was happening, but the proof was in the way his body was begging for more. "Told you," Tom said, his voice a low purr. "You can't resist New Tom can you?"

Javi's mind raced, trying to find some rational explanation. He'd seen prosthetics in movies, maybe Tom had gotten really into cosplay. The smell of his sweat, the way his muscles bulged, it had to be a silicone suit. It had to be. He took a deep breath, steeling himself against the fear that had been building up. "Okay," he murmured. "Okay, Tom. I get it. You're just… playing a role."

Tom leaned in closer, his grin turning predatory. "You want to play along?" he whispered. "You want to find out who's really in charge here?"

Javi nodded, his eyes wide and filled with a mix of trepidation and excitement. The musky scent of Tom's body washed over him, making his head spin. He could feel the heat emanating from his friend's body, the power in every inch of him, and it was intoxicating. Tom grinned wickedly, rising to his feet and strutting over to the chair.

"Come on, then," he said, gesturing to his socks with a jerk of his head. "Take them off, I want you to get a good whiff."

Javi's cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and desire as he slid off the bed and onto his knees. He felt the plush carpet against his skin, the fibers sticking slightly to the sweat that had gathered on his body. As he crawled towards Tom, the room felt hotter, the air thick with the scent of unwashed socks and virile musk, something that was making his cock throb even more insistently. He reached out tentatively and took hold of the top of Tom's sock. The fabric was warm and damp, and he could feel the outline of Tom's toes through it. His stomach fluttered as he tugged it down, revealing the hairy, sweaty arch of his friend's foot.

"Look at them," Tom said, raising one of his massive, muscled legs and pointing a toe at Javi's face. "These are what you've been dreaming about, aren't they?" The room was so silent, it was as if the very walls held their breath. The smell of Tom's unwashed feet hit Javi like a truck, a powerful aroma of butter and roquefort that seemed to fill every molecule of the air around them. The sight of those size 15 soles, glistening with sweat and grime, had him feeling lightheaded with a mix of fear and arousal.

Tom's toes curled and flexed, the muscles in his legs bulging like those of a Greek statue come to life. He placed his foot firmly against Javi's cheek, his toes digging into the side of his face. "Worship them," he ordered, his voice a thunderclap of dominance that reverberated through Javi's body. And despite his racing thoughts, despite his better judgment, Javi found himself leaning in, his nose brushing against the furry, sweat-soaked arch of Tom's foot.

The scent was… indescribable. It was like a symphony of manliness, a concert of musk and sweat that played a siren's song to Javi's deepest, most secret desires. It was the smell of power and strength, of a man that knew no bounds, that could take what it wanted with no apologies. It was a scent that made him feel small and helpless, ensnaring him like a moth to a flame. He took a deep, shuddering breath, the odor filling his nose and mouth, coating his tongue. It was thick and heavy, with notes of gym socks and washed rind cheese, of locker room floors and the faint hint of something… animalistic. It was a scent that made his cock throb, his knees wobble, and his heart race.

Tom's voice was like a serpent whispering sweet nothings into his ear, urging him closer, deeper into the rabbit hole. "That's it, baby," he crooned, his toes sliding along Javi's cheek, the calloused skin leaving a trail of heat. "Sniff them, lick them, show me how much you love these stinking, sweaty dogs." The words were a command, a declaration of ownership that Javi found himself obeying without thought. He leaned in, his nose buried in the high arch of Tom's foot, inhaling deeply. The scent was overwhelming, but as he let his tongue snake out to slide across the slick sole, he found it… delicious. The salt of his sweat, the faint cheesy tang of his skin, it was a feast that had Javi's mouth watering. He licked along the length of Tom's foot, from his heel to the base of his toes, savoring every inch, every taste.

"Mm, yes," Tom murmured, his foot pressing harder against Javi's face. "You've always been such a good boy, haven't you?" Javi couldn't help but moan into the arch of Tom's foot as he continued to worship the musky flesh before him. "But now, you're going to see just how good I feel in this body." Tom leaned back in the chair, his muscled chest heaving with each breath, his abs rippling like a mountain range.

With a swift kick, Tom sent his other foot flying through the air, the smell of his sweat-soaked sock smacking Javi right in the face. "Take them off," he said, his voice a growling command. Javi's eyes watered, but his hands were already moving, eager to obey. He peeled the sock off, the fabric sticking to Tom's skin with the suction of a vacuum seal. He held it up to his nose, inhaling the potent stench of his friend's foot.

"Now put them on," Tom said, his foot still pressing down on Javi's head. Javi took the sock, his heart racing, and slid it onto his own foot. It was like sliding into a warm, wet glove that had been marinating in a frat house's lost and found. The fabric clung to his toes, the scent of Tom's sweat enveloping him. He took a deep breath, the smell of his friend's feet filling his nostrils and making his cock throb even harder. He couldn't believe what he was doing, but he also couldn't believe how much he liked it.

"Good boy," Tom said, his voice filled with a smug satisfaction that made Javi's stomach flip. "Now the other one." Javi obeyed, his hands shaking slightly as he slipped the other sock onto his foot. The smell was overpowering, a heady mix of musk and sweat that made him feel like he was inhaling pure, concentrated masculinity.

Tom's foot remained planted on Javi's head, his toes digging into his hair like they were anchors holding him in place. "Now, sniff them," he ordered. "Let me hear how much you love the smell of your new master's stench." Javi brought his best friend’s foot to his nose, his eyes rolling back in his head as the damp, sticky sole pressed against his nose. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding as he inhaled the scent that seemed to fill his very soul with a dark, delicious hunger.

“Ahhh fuck, Tom. Shit that’s so good.” With every suction of the thick miasma wafting now from both Tom’s foot and his own, he fell deeper and deeper into the thralls of lust. Letting his hand slide past the waistband of his shorts, the touch of his sweaty fingers gliding against the throbbing meat within made him gasp, droplets of Tom’s ripe sweat soaring into his lungs. Before he could take the initiative to pump, an even firmer pressure against his length was felt on his pleading groin. Opening his eyes, Javi could have burst just from the sight of it: Tom’s wicked smirk and his grimy left foot rubbing him through the pre soaked fabric.

“Such a good boy, Javi. I think I may deserve a treat, don’t you think?” Tom’s devilish grin sent shivers down Javi’s spine, and all he could do was nod in affirmation as the sweaty foot gently slid back and forth. “Yeah. I deserve a treat. I deserve you, Javi. Are you willing to give me my treat?” A guttural moan burst from his lips, the flavor of Tom’s sole against his face breaking any notion of resistance. He cried out with a muffled ‘mmhmm,’ desperation deep in his tone. That’s all Tom needed to hear.

It started as an ever so quiet little squeak, barely perceptible to the enraptured Javi. Though as he continued to lap at the slick sole, it wasn’t the wet squelches or the rubbery stretching that echoed in the hotel room that caught his attention; no, it was the sole. The way it started undulate, to bubble and warp beneath the smelly skin— Javi opened his eyes to see just what was truly happening. Tom’s sweat drenched boxer briefs, pulled down just below the pendulous balls, his long uncut shaft bulging and warping before his eyes as a grotesquely bulbous lump began to squirm up the length of his cock.

“Awww yeah. Javi, I’m gonna love it in there. You’re gonna love it too.” Tom’s teeth gritted with euphoric fervor as the bulge breached the tip of his stretching cockhead, wiry gray hairs slithering out wet and shellacked to the wrinkled, albeit handsome head of a man he did not know. Javi froze, the funk wafting from the feet his only comfort as the cock bloated and gaped around a vascular neck and broad shoulders. His eyes darted between Tom’s still smirking and wicked face and the hulking muscular man slithering out of his urethra.

“Oh… ohhh… unghhh…” The moans of pleasure that bellowed out of Javi’s mouth made Tom’s smirk widen as he continued to rub Javi’s throbbing appendage. Javi couldn’t process the surreal sight of the muscular man crawling out of his rod, down his thick, hairy legs toward him. As the man’s calloused hands pushed Tom’s foot from his face and his round rump and slimy cock sprang from the engorged slit, Javi’s mouth sat agape in mind numbing shock.

“Give me my treat, Javi.” Tom laughed wickedly as the man’s first few fingers slipped past Javi’s lips without so much as a gag of resistance. The taste of Tom’s cum coating the man’s form flavored his tongue with the sweetness of pineapple and tang of spunk as the man’s hands squeezed into his mouth— then his forearms, then his head… no pain, no discomfort, just… surrender. Once the foothold was established, the man’s arms thrust deeply down his bulging throat and into his core, it took little more than a firm tug for the man to slurp the rest of his chiseled form into Javi’s yielding body.

His cock tightening back to its thick, 9.5 inches as the last of the man’s ripe stinking size 15 feet slopped out of his slit, Tom let his head fall back onto the back of the chair as he wrapped his own hand around the length. He snickered to himself, listening to the schlorp and squelch of the man’s toes squeezing past Javi’s lips. The very same euphoria that overcame him when the leather daddy had dominated and entered his own body in the LaGuardia bathroom merely hours before was now overtaking Javi as the man made himself at home within his second body. Though it was not truly Tom in drivers seat behind those big brown eyes, he reveled in the addition of his host’s best friend into the cavalcade of identities merged into his consciousness— one more body to enjoy and experience. As he slipped on Javi’s skin, the overwhelming exhilaration of feeling the sensations of two bodies at once flooded his synapses while he pumped and smugly admired the hairy stud he’d created from the blank canvas of Tom’s skin.

“Heh, yeah boy. We’re gonna have some fun.” The sound of stretching rubber and elastic squeaks emanating from Javi’s warping form accompanied the slick, slimy noises of his lazy stroking. Gurgles and murmurs rang out with increasing frequency, mirroring the pace of his hand movements, until he grunted as the man’s head slipped into Javi’s like a silicone mask.

*SNAP*

Silence. Then a wry snicker as Javi stood- now mirroring his 6’4” stature and muscular, with the stench to boot. He towered above Tom, tugging on the elastic skin of his cheeks before they snapped into place, permanently.

“You gonna just stand there, or are you gonna join me?” Tom chided as he watched himself flex Javi’s thick, muscular arms- sweat dripping from his hairy armpits. His new acquisition still pouring in the body’s memories and incorporating them into his dominant consciousness; Javi leaned in, his tattooed hands landing squarely on either side of him on the armrests.

“Yeah, let’s have some fun.” Javi’s formerly sweet and innocent voice now thick with his gravel and grit, he sneered as their lips collided and tongues tangled.

———

“He’s on his way.” Javi leered as he fell backward onto his couch, kicking his funky, three week worn socks onto Tom’s lap as he sipped the last of his beer.

“You take the front, I’ll take the back. Nice spit roast for us.” Tom placed the empty Heineken on the table, resting his own identically ripe feet on either side of Javi. “Suckin’ and fuckin’, all at once. That’s the good shit.” Three weeks of wild debauchery in New York, and he had all but mastered the art of piloting two vessels at once. Tasting two brews simultaneously, savoring the buzz of poppers from two perspectives, feeling the tightness of latex on Javi and the creaks of leather on Tom… Manhattan had proved to be quite the training grounds for him. He wasn’t planning on letting that education go squandered.

“I know. That little twink won’t know what squeezed into him.” Javi smiled wryly, wriggling his toes beneath the grimy socks. “But until he gets here, give Javi some attention. The twink shouldn’t be the only one to enjoy him.” Tom grinned, letting his hands grip onto Javi’s damp foot, pulling it close to press against his face. “But you know, two is a party- three is a rave.”

[btmguy69]

[youngstrappinglads]

[changingmale]

For the last few years, the manger of the joint was spiking his meals and playing sumbimeniual messages in the music. The manger use what he played with the music could only effect those that he was spiking their meals. He knew it was working when they would reveal their abs and cheat. This guy even showed his chest and started to play with his nipples before he eating his order.

[changingmale]

Jack and Rick were resting in their dorm when they got a knock.  Rick went to the door and saw a mailman that was built. He open and accepted the package. Taking it to the main room, Rick open it and found there was two caps and two gold posers. He wondered why the posers when get got the caps out and put one one while tossing the other to Jack. Jack said it was cool that they go free stuff. The continued to relax and found it it a bit warm. They took off their clothes until they were naked. Then the heat subsided for a bit while they just relax. Jack then got a urge to go put on on something snug, He could not find anything snug enough until he found the two posers. Jack put on one and felt himself get sweaty but in a good way. He past the second poser to Rick and he did the same. As they sweated, they grow. Muscle firm up and gain mass. Hair feel off their chest and their skin smoothed out. Then an idea pop in their minds at the same time. Take a photo together and sent to the a man that Rick just met when he go the package.

[manrumpsxxx]

[musclemaster]

Roided Jake just feels the juice kicking in. After the skrinkage the nipples become the playground

[superperfectlymassivestudentblog]

That feeling when bro starts looking like a snack...

[misctf]

The Game Show

You can think of a few reasons why you found yourself in the audience that night. Well, really one. When you heard "Are You Smarter Than A Himbo" was putting on a show in your neighborhood, you couldn't resist. Sure, it was kind of stupid. You'd seen the clips online. They'd bring some braindead jock up on stage to flex, laugh, crack jokes, and answer basic trivia wrong. The poor idiot would laugh along as the audience laughed at him. You'd always figured the dunce was too dumb to realize they were laughing at him. But fuck, those guys were hot. So if anything, you'd get to ogle at some hot guy flexing all night and maybe get a few laughs out of it too.

"Do you think Zak's pecs are real?"

"Jason is like totally the hottest."

"I think Ryan isn't as dumb as he lets on."

"Did you know Mike is single? I can't…"

You roll your eyes at the fanfare all around you. These people were seriously into it. And then it starts.

"Welcome everyone!" You watch as a lanky man struts on stage with his hair slicked back and a wide grin on his face, "Are you ready!?" The crowd- mostly women and a few guys cheered in response, "I said: are you ready!?" You roll your eyes as the host worked the crowd, "Alright, alright… welcome." The host smiles wider, "Put your hands together for our main man!"

The host gestures toward the side of the stage and Zak strolls out with a slow, confident walk, his arms flexed as if expecting applause. He’s got thick curls falling over his forehead, and his chest is packed with muscle, tight under his white tank top. The crowd goes wild as he steps onto the platform.

“Y’all ready?” Zak shouts, raising both arms above his head. “Let’s go!” He pulls off his shirt in one smooth motion, and your eyes widen as you take in his massive pecs and perfect abs. The crowd similarly goes wild. Zak grins, flashing a perfect set of teeth, "I'm so fuckin' pumped to be here tonight! I fuckin' love you guys!"

"But Zak, I think you have something to say to everyone. Right?" The host interjects, patting the massive jock on the back.

"Yo dude yeah, for real." Zak nods, "Like, this is gonna be my last show, ya know? With the whole modeling thing blowin' up and all." The audience groans, "I know, it sucks majorly, trust me!" Zak frowns, "But like, you'll get to see plenty more of me. Trust me brahs." He winks and the crowd cheers.

The host claps, "That’s what I like to hear! Alright, let’s get started!"

You lean forward in your seat as the first audience member is brought up. It only takes a few questions for her to utterly humiliate Zak, who just laughs and flexes like the dumb himbo that he is. As the contestant returns to her seat, the host's eyes scan the crowd, zeroing in on you.

"What about you there in the blue shirt? He looks smart, right Zak? Let's get you up here!"

Initially you're shocked. You? The host gestures for you to make your way up to the stage. You can feel your heart pounding as you climb the stairs, palms feeling a little sweaty. The bright lights, all eyes on you. And as you step onto the stage, you get an up close look of Zak. His biceps bulge impressively, glistening with a light sheen of sweat. But god he smells like a wet gym sock.

"Sup bro, nice to meetcha!" Zak grins and throws a muscular arm around you, "Dude, you ready for this?"

"Aw do I sense a budding bromance?" The host grins and the crowd cheers. After settling them down, he turns to you. "You know how this works by now. Do you think you're smarter than a himbo?"

"Yeah, I think I am." You reply.

"Heh we'll see about that, bro!" Zak guffaws, "I was just goin' easy on that last chick."

"The confidence!" The host laughs, "Let's put it to the test. Your first question: Which is the only sea without any coastlines?"

You ponder for a moment. A sea without a coastline? That's... god what was that? You feel your cheeks flushing red, as you realize you don't know the answer to that. But if you don't know the answer, Zak would definitely not know either. Speaking of Zak, he's bouncing his pecs like the oversized gym bro he is.

"Is it the Caspian Sea?" You shrug, eyes still locked on his massive pecs. Of course the host shakes his head with exaggerated sadness.

"Ah, seems Mr. Smartypants here was a bit too distracted admiring the view to ace that question!" He winks at the audience, while Zak flexes.

"No shame in that, brah!"

You feel your face flush red with embarrassment as the laughter from the audience washes over you. Great, now they all think you're just another hormone-addled fool who can't string two thoughts together because of a pretty face.

"Alright Zak, a question for you now buddy!" You figure Zak is about to bomb this question anyway- round will end in a tie and you can walk away with some dignity, "What color are bananas?"

Zak scratches his head, "Dude… tricky." He chuckles, low and dumb, "So, I want to say yellow, but also green when they're not ripe. Oh but brown too if they go for too long!"

"Fantastic answer Zak! Well thought out!" The host grins as the crowd cheers, "Uh oh, looks like Zak has pulled ahead!"

The fuck kind of question was that? You look at the host and then Zak, who is doing a victory dance. The color of bananas? Of course Zak would know that- he's a fucking ape. You smirk at your own joke.

"Okay okay, let's try another one! Mr. Smartypants, are you ready to redeem yourself?" You're ready, more than ready. You're not..., "What pigments are responsible for the red color of leaves?"

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You don't have an answer for that. Maybe you did know it, but between the flexing stud and the stage fright, you couldn't find the information.

"Chlorophyll."

"What a shame! That is not correct." He smiles at the audience, "It seems Zak may have a chance to widen his lead! Hey big guy, what day of the month is Christmas celebrated on?" It takes Zak maybe a minute or two to answer that one correctly, "Look at that folks, Zak is now up by two!" He turns to you with a grin, "Seems our guest is not much of a smartypants after all!"

Again, your face flush reds, "No worries, little dude." Zak ruffles your hair, "I uh, I got some smarts, ya know." He looks out towards the audience, "Last show brahs but first win!"

The crowd cheers and it dawns on you that you might be the first person to actually lose this stupid game. Frustration bubbles up inside you as the host and crowd continue to mock you. You're better than this, smarter than being made a fool of. Screw it, you're going to show them all up.

"I could answer every single one of those easy-ass questions he's getting," you mutter under your breath, but the mic picks it up anyway. The host's eyes light up.

"Oh ho, is that so?" He raises an eyebrow, a smirk gracing his features. "Well then, why don't you prove it, hot shot? Let's see if you can handle something a little more…your speed. Here we go bud - how does the body cool down during intense exercise like a heavy workout session?"

You chuckle. Really? This was the question? You clear your voice, "Sweating. That's how it keeps from overheating."

"Correct!"

"Woah bro, nice one!"

Yeah... that was a nice one. Finally got a question right... finally... You wince as a warmth fills your upper arms. At first it's just a gentle tingling, a warm buzzing beneath your skin. But quickly it builds to a throbbing, insistent pressure.

"What the…?"

The sensation intensifies, an intensifying heat pulsing through your upper arms. Your skin prickles and tightens as your biceps and triceps stretch against the sleeve of your shirt. It feels like the most intense pump after a grueling workout, but magnified tenfold. Your arms throbbing, aching. You feel aware of just how much more space they're taking up. And the twitching- it's incessant. Unconsciously, your arms start to rise, muscles tensing, flexing…

"Whoa…" you mutter, marveling at the sheer size and density of your upper arms, "How…?"

The host clears his throat pointedly, breaking you out of your awestruck reverie. "Ahem, moving on! Thanks for that… demonstration." He shoots you a knowing wink, a sly grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Let's see if we can't challenge that big ol' brain of yours with another question, shall we? What does the acronym SBD stand for in powerlifting?"

"Oh brah, way too easy." Zak chides, crossing his massive arms over his muscular chest, "Even I know that one."

But your head is swimming. The powerful feeling in your arms send pleasurable waves of warmth through your body. But your mind. You're reviewing the question. Thinking it through. SBD? In powerlifting?

"SBD... SBD..." You rub your chin, unconsciously flexing your now massive bicep, "Huh... like... That's uh..."

You look over at Zak and he's making some kind of motion. A goofy grin on his face as he squats. Squats. Squats!

"Bro!" You grin, "Squats, dude! Yeah, that's what the S stands for." You grin, but the host shakes his head, "C'mon what?" You pout.

"You're still forgetting the rest." The host smiles, "And the timer is counting down."

You shuffle anxiously on your feet. You know this, right? But why would you? You're not into powerlifting. But like, it should be easy. If S stands for squats then like, wouldn't B and D also be something to do with working out? Yeah? Totally, that makes sense. But like, what else is there? What other... huh... shirt is getting kinda tight too. And fuck, you can't help but notice how warm your chest feels. Nice and warm, pressing more and more against the fabric of your shirt. Stretching it out against your big, meaty...

"Bench press, brah! B stands for bench press!" You say with a grin as your shirt starts to tear away, revealing a set of massive pecs and a chiseled torso, "Huh where'd my shirt go?" The audience cheers and you grin, staring down as you bounce your pecs.

"Excellent job, but unfortunately, you didn't finish. You missed D, you big dunce."

The host laughs, and you laugh along with him and the audience. Big dunce. Yeah that's... that's you? You pause for a second and start to feel that same embarrassment from earlier. They're laughing... not with you, but...

"Dude, can't win em all!" Zak slaps you on your increasingly wider back and you turn to him- now at eye-level, "But like, brah, you've got this next one!"

"Y-y-you th-think so.... brah?" Your tongue feels heavy, the words feel sluggish. You notice your voice sounds deeper to your ears, "I..."

"You have to focus there, smartypants!" The host interrupts, "Two more questions. Are you ready?" You nod slowly, "In a deadlift, how high are you supposed to lift the barbell before lowering it?"

"Deadlift..." Your eyes light up suddenly, "Wait, bro! The D! That's what D stands for, brah!" You say excitedly.

The whole audience laughs, as does the host. You look at him, feeling a strange sense of confusion bubbling up. Why were they laughing? What was so funny?

"Good job there, but that was the last question. We've moved on, big guy."

"Oh..." You chuckle, a grin forming on your lips as you let out a deep, dumb laugh, "Huhuhuh that was pretty stupid of me." The audience and the host laugh even louder, and you find yourself joining in, "Alright, gotta lock in, gotta... brah what was the question?"

"Dead lifts..."

"Oh fuck yeah! I fuckin' love deadlifts."

The host grins, "Yes, exactly! So tell us, when doing a deadlift, how high do you lift the barbell before lowering it?"

"Yeah... uh..." You bite your lip, thinking hard. Your fingers drum against your swollen bicep as you try to concentrate and with a sigh, lift your hands behind your head, "Oh nice..."

Your eyes lock on to your bulging bis and tris and you're momentarily distracted. But the sharp tang of your own musk drifts up from your armpits, momentarily derailing your train of thought. Fuck, you smell good. Really fucking good. But since when did you...?

"Brah, c'mon you got this." Zak says, watching you closely.

You shake your head and run a hand through your perfectly gelled, styled hair, before pausing- fuck your aesthetic is probably cooked. You awkwardly pat at your hair.

"Worry about your hair later, you've got a question to answer." The host says.

"Fuck, sorry..." You let out an awkward chuckle, "Just gotta..."

Your body moves instinctively into the proper deadlift position—back straight, knees slightly bent, hips pushed back—as if you've done this 1000s of times before. As you demonstrate the form flawlessly, a new awareness floods your lower body. Your glutes feel… alive. Heavy. Round. Perfect. You grin as you squeeze them unconsciously, feeling the dense muscle fibers contract.

"The answer is hips, bro."

"Let's fuckin' go, brah!" Zak cheers and slaps you on the ass, sending a wave of intense pleasure reverberating through your meaty glutes.

As the crowd cheers, your eyes lock on Zak. The pleasure from him slapping your ass still making you shudder. You drink him in, fixated on the prominent bulge straining against his gym shorts.

"Fuck..." You mumble- he's packing serious heat there.

Your mouth waters involuntarily as fantasies flood your mind- Zak pinning you down, those huge hands squeezing your meaty ass while he drives his massive cock deep inside you. The image of you riding his thick cock sends shivers down your growing frame, and you imagine running your tongue over every inch of his sweat-slick skin. You lick your lips and grin at the thought.

When your eyes meet again, Zak doesn't look away. Instead, his smirk widens as he catches you staring, and the few brain cells he has recognize exactly what you’re thinking. He flexes for the audience, but he turns to give you a quick wink, letting you know all that flexing was just for you... because he wants you to know he wants you too. After all, you know there's not way he could resist you either. With your... bulging pecs? Massive arms? Thick glutes?

"Wait..." You mumble. You can feel the rusting gears in your increasingly empty head turn ever so slightly, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth.

Your head was spinning, brain trying to make sense of all of it.

Something’s off, right? Like... this ain’t how it used to be. You know that. You weren’t… this. But then... what were you then, dude? Cause, like, look at you. Seriously... just look. You’re absolutely shredded. I mean, c’mon, those arms? That chest? You don’t just wake up lookin’ this jacked without bein’… well, this guy. So how could you not be you if you straight-up look like you? Right?

A dumb chuckle escapes your lips as all that thinking overwhelms and shuts down whatever last remaining brain cells you have.

The host snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking you out of your haze. "Earth to bro, we still got one question."

"Huh? Wha-" You blink slowly, your expression vacant and slack. Drool slips down your chin as you stare blankly ahead.

"Are you smarter than a himbo?" The host grins.

"Nawww, bro, 'course not!" You reply with a big, dumb grin spreading across your face, "Can't be smarter than a himbo cuz… I AM the fuckin' himbo, bro!"

The host laughs, shaking his head, "Well folks, I guess that settles it! Looks like we've got ourselves a new resident himbo to take Zak's place. Give it up for… COLT!"

The audience erupts into cheers and applause as you beam proudly, basking in the spotlight. You feel Zak sling a muscular arm around your broad shoulders, squeezing you close.

"Dude, so fuckin' glad you're joinin' the fam, bro!" Zak enthuses, his hand drifting lower to grope your ass possessively, "Trust me bro, you're gonna love it."

Zak's strong grip on your juicy ass makes you shudder and you can tell by that grin that he's thinking exactly what you're thinking.

The host clears his throat loudly, snapping you out of your lustful stupor. "Don't forget to wave to the crowd, champ!" He gestures encouragingly towards the audience.

With a dopey grin, you raise a hand in greeting, relishing the adoration pouring in from all sides.

"Thanks y'all, this is gonna be fuckin' sick!" You call out enthusiastically, grinning like an idiot.

And as Zak digs his fingers into your massive ass, you lick your lips hungrily. The only thought in your empty head was that once this show was over, you'd be giving him a private encore performance that neither of you would forget…

[47flavors]

[dumbslut79]

himbo

[artificial-transmutations]

Rick's Reality

Richard Thompson, or "Rick" as he was known to everyone in his small Midwestern town, had always been a figure of certainty. A solid, unchanging monument amidst a world that was too often in flux. His voice, amplified by the local radio, was a constant stream of opinions and advice that echoed through the homes and cars of his listeners each weekday morning.

Rick was an imposing man, in both stature and belief. Standing tall at six feet two inches, with broad shoulders and a deep, resonant voice, he was the picture of traditional, rural masculinity. His dark hair was always neatly combed, his clothes crisp and clean, and his boots spotless despite the dust and mud of the local landscape.

His radio show, "Rick's Reality," was a beacon for conservative values and traditional perspectives. It was a platform from which he would confidently espouse his views, his deep baritone voice resonating with a fervor that drew in even the most reluctant listener. Rick had a particular disdain for the LGBTQ+ community, seeing them as a challenge to his idea of 'normal.'

"There's a certain way of life, a right and a wrong," Rick would assert, his voice crackling over the airwaves. "Men are men, women are women. That's how God intended it."

Rick had been born and bred in this town, his life as firmly rooted as the old oak tree in the town square. A divorced father of one, his life was a well-trodden path of work, hunting, fishing, and beer with his buddies at Joe's Bar.

That Monday, Rick sat behind the microphone in his small studio, a cup of black coffee steaming beside him. He had a familiar fire in his belly, the one that fueled his daily tirades. Today, his ire was directed towards immigrants and the LGBTQ+ community.

"Folks," he began, his voice stern and unwavering, "our great nation is being undermined. We've got immigrants coming in, not respecting our culture, our way of life. And then we got these... these... folks who can't decide if they're men or women or want to marry their own kind. It's a disgrace, I tell ya."

The phone lines were lighting up, as they always did during his heated monologues. He gestured to his assistant, who patched through a caller.

"You're on 'Rick's Reality', what's your reality today?" Rick asked, a smug grin on his face.

"Hello, Rick," the caller began, their voice calm, measured, and anonymous. "I've been listening to your show for a while. I've heard your views on immigrants and the LGBTQ+ community. I wonder, have you ever challenged your beliefs? Have you ever tried to see life from their perspective?"

Rick was taken aback. He was used to angry rebuttals and passionate agreements, but this? This was new. He stuttered, before finding his footing. "Well, I... I know what's right. And it's my job to stand up for what's right."

"But what if 'right' is subjective, Rick?" the caller continued. "What if the 'right' you know is not the only 'right'? Have you ever considered that?"

Rick was angry. Angry enough to hang up. But something stopped him. He knew he needed more information about this mysterious caller. So, he stayed on the line, listening intently as the caller continued.

"I'm just curious, Rick," the caller said, "what would happen if you met someone who thought differently than you do? Wouldn't that be interesting? What if they didn't think like you did?"

"I'd punch them out," Rick replied. "I don't need no faggot or immigrant around me thinking he's better than me."

"Interesting," the caller mused. "So, you wouldn't try to understand them? You wouldn't try to learn from them?"

"Nope," Rick said. "I'd punch them out." He had enough of the caller and cut the line. This was ridiculous, why did people with these deviant opinions even bother calling into his show? He had to get back to ranting about the evils of immigration and the perils of same-sex marriage.

He returned to his monologue, but his mind wandered. He couldn't shake the strange feeling he had when talking to that caller. Their words had struck a chord within him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was like a small voice in the back of his mind that was so very different from himself, that was curious about what that guy had said, curious about the very idea of being different. It was only miniscule though, and Rick quickly dismissed it, continuing his show.

The rest of the callers were good, normal people calling. People agreeing with him and encouraging him. The day went by smoothly until the end of his shift. He was heading home in the bright noon sun, when he felt like he could do something different today. The route he usually took when walking home was down the main street, passing Joe's bar and into the residential area with the neatly trimmed lawns where he lived. There was, however, another route, a quicker one that went through the bad parts of the town. The parts where those Latino gardeners and pool boys lived, where there were shady clubs and even the dreaded local 'rainbow' scene. Normally, Rick wouldn't even think about entering those parts of town, but the comment from earlier was still gnawing at his mind. Perhaps he should take that way today, just to see how much better life was when you were normal. There was nothing going to happen, after all. If he met anyone who bothered him, he'd just punch them.

So, Rick turned off the main road, making his way towards the seedy part of town. As he walked past the bars and strip joints, he saw men and women going about their businesses or sitting around, taking a break and smoking a cigarette. So far, nothing out of the ordinary except the slightly darker skin color of most people here. He passed a few men playing socker in an alleyway between buildings. A man sat on a bench outside a corner store, drinking a beer and watching some kids play basketball nearby. He made eye contact with a woman wearing a tight red dress as she exited a convenience store carrying bags full of groceries. She was probably wondering why he came here - a question he asked himself.

He kept walking, trying to ignore the looks he was getting as he got closer to the gay district. Well, district was a bit much. There was a bar and a club with rainbow flags in the windows, nothing more.

The bar was closed, as it was just noon. However, the club was apparently open, which was surprising considering the time of day. Rick stopped. Maybe he should go inside. There would probably no patrons in there and he was kind of curious what that godless place looked from the inside.

He pushed open the door to the club and stepped inside. The place was empty, as he thought, apart from a bartender cleaning up. The guy was a fairly muscular and about the same age as Rick and greeted him with a friendly smile.

"Oh hi! Welcome to Club Rage!" he said. "What can I get you?"

"I don't want anything", Rick said with a reserved tone. He didn't even want to speak to that guy, but now that he was in here, that seemed to be less and less of an option.

"Ah, then you're here for the job opening!" the other man beamed. "Name's Miguel by the way."

Of course, an immigrant, Rick grimaced. "Richard." he said noncommittally.

"Good! I didn't expect someone like you to apply, but sure, let's see what you've got! Follow me!"

Why didn't Rick just say he wasn't interested in the job, whatever it was?

Miguel led him to the big dance floor of the place and pointed to an elevated cage with a pole in it. "This would be your workplace."

Rick looked at him dumbfounded. "What did you say was that job again?", he asked cautiously.

"You'll be dancing," Miguel replied. "It's not a difficult job, trust me. You won't have any trouble keeping up with the crowd. Come on, show me some moves, Richard!". He patted the cage floor with his hand.

Rick wanted to say a lot of things, shout at the guy or storm out of here, but another part of his brain saw this as an opportunity. There was no one here but Miguel to see him and he would never, ever do something like that again, so he might as well try it once.

Rick nodded slowly and hoisted himself up into the cage with some effort. Miguel was looking up to him expectantly and Rick tried some careful, stiff dance steps.

It must have looked ridiculous, but Miguel was nodding. "Yeah... you need some beat, man. Hold on."

Miguel disappeared for a moment and shortly after, a driving, thumbing rhythm filled the room, way too loud for the empty room.

When Miguel reappeared, he gave Rick thumbs up: "Okay, Rick! Try it with this!"

The rhythm actually helped a bit, and Rick found it easier to get into it. His dance moves became more sweeping and quickly, Rick was sweating from the unfamiliar workout.

Apparently, Miguel had also noticed and shouted from below: "Come on! Show me that body a bit, don't be shy!"

Rick gritted his teeth and moved his hips faster, feeling the sweat running down his face. He could hear the music pounding in his ears, drowning out everything else. He felt good about himself, better than he'd done in years. While dancing, he unbuttoned his shirt and quickly disposed of it. His torso was looking different from what he was used to: It was smoothly shaven and more toned - not trained or muscular but toned and lean. His skin had a darker complexion than he was used to, and the glistening sweat gave his moves a smooth and fluid quality.

Down below, Miguel was cheering. "Yeah, come on, Rico boy! Use the pole!"

Rick, no, Rico shook his head and smiled. While he grabbed the pole with his right hand, his left hand unbuttoned his pants, in a well-practiced movement. As he twirled around the pole, he used an upward movement to strip the pants completely from his legs, revealing his very tight purple hotpants that accentuated his bulge nicely. Rico noticed that Miguel was clapping to the beat now and decided to give him a special show, turning around and shaking his ass to the rhythm right above Miguel’s face. Rico smiled. He had no doubt that he would get the job - he was just so damn good at it. Every man loved him, and he knew how to hone and groom his body to just tease them the right way. He was a living wet dream, with both an impressive ass and an ample bulge in the front of his pants that he knew just how to shake in a way that made the patrons drool. A boner factory, an ex-boyfriend of his had called him, and there was something very true about it.

Finally, Rico finished his gig and slid down the pole without even panting much, planting an impish kiss on Miguel’s mouth. He couldn't resist to cup the other man's groin with his hand meanwhile... yep, he was going to get that job.

Ricardo Torres was happy - this would be perfect for him, a chance to put his body to good use and get familiar with this new town quickly. Besides, that Miguel guy was really cute, perhaps it was time for a new boyfriend in this new town!

[maletfsstories-deactivated20250]

The Other Side

Request by satoshi1989

Every day was the same for Vince, wake up, go to work, go back home and repeat, ever since he graduated from university it was like this, from the outside many people would say that his life is pretty successful and they weren’t wrong but in the inside Vince felt lonely.

Today wasn’t any different, Vince’s alarmed woke him up at six, he went to work and because there was a meeting with the regional CEO of the company Vince arrived at his apartment at around seven.

His coworkers were going to the bar but Vince preferred to go home and put all of his mind into his work, as he booted up his computer his mind started to day dream.

He wished he had some sort of company, his last relationship was a long time ago and he missed that sensation of being loved, that relationship happened in university when his life was more happier but after it ended he closed himself to anyone, while everyone around him was experimenting with their relationships Vince was to closed to even notice the attraction he had to a few men in campus.

If Vince could go to the past he would love to explore this side of him and as his computer opened the latest dossier he had to finish he also wished life was simpler.

As Vince started working on his computer a weird sensation of sickness came over his body, with this sickness not letting him concentrate properly Vince decided to lay down in his bed for a while.

Vince walked from his desk towards his bed, when his whole body made contact with the comfy sheets he rapidly fell asleep.

While Vince slept his previous wishes started to come true as his reality and body changed.

Vince was pretty tall being at around six feet but because he was very thin and had little muscles it made him look very lanky.

This was a thing of the past as Vince's body started to become more defined, his pecs ballooned, a respectable six pack formed in his torso and a healthy amount of brown hair now covered them.

Then Vince's frail arms also started developing muscles of their own, his biceps, triceps and deltoids increased in size leaving him with a pair of muscled arms that perfectly matched his new body.

The changes then started developing Vince's legs and altered his ass as it now left him with a very big bubble but.

For last Vince's face altered but didn't changed that much as his already preexisting features became more beautiful.

When the changes finally finished Vince's sickness disappeared and he could finally open his eyes.

He looked down at himself with confusion, was he only dreaming?

But everything felt real, from the bumps he explored around his muscles to the little hairs that covered them.

He felt and looked younger and a sense of vitality he never had before was now being felt all over him.

Vince got up his bed as to better observe the changes, everything was bigger than before, his muscles his dick but most importantly his ass.

As Vince observed the bigger jiggling as he felt a sensation he never had before, he wanted it to be filled and fast.

Vince almost automatically walked towards a cabinet and opened it, inside there was a dildo which in the past he would never had but right now it felt as if he had it and used it since forever.

As his worried thoughts dispersed Vince started to insert the dildo into his hungry hole, as he did he moaned with his now deep voice.

After a while Vince stopped as his phone started to ring with an incoming call.

Vince picked it up and noted that the name of the caller was Luis, he didn't remember knowing someone called Luis but for some reason he was now in his contacts.

-"Oye Vince where are you?, Did you forgot you had to dance today"

This statement started to move the gears in Vince's Brain, he never danced in the past, why was this Luis guy telling him he had to dance today.

But as he thought about it more it made perfect sense, he started dancing in clubs to pay his rent and other things.

-" I really forgot Luis I'll see you there"

Vince hung up and walked towards his closet not caring that he had just spoken in an almost automatic fashion without questioning the thoughts forming in his head.

As Vince opened his closet he already knew what he was going to wear, he bought one of does harnesses that were now all the rage.

As he put the harness on he started to forget things about his past as his new life eclipsed it like a tsunami.

When all was done Vince looked at himself in the mirror and did some poses, he also published some photos in his Instagram we're he now had a huge fallowing.

As the club he had to dance in was pretty close Vince grabbed a trenchcoat to hide what he was wearing and walked out of his apartment.

After a minute or so Vince arrived at the door he has passed hundreds of times in his past life but didn't care what it was.

The new Vince loved that door because of what mean to be at the other side of it.

Vince knocked on the door and waited for it to open, Luis the bouncer saluted him and told him he had to hurry to get on the stage.

Vince made his way thru the waves of men that surrounded him, as he got up on stage the lights dimmed and trendy pop music started to blast out of speakers around him.

Vince naturally grabbed the silver pole and started to twist and turn around it, the men around him started charging and throwing money at him.

As he continued dancing the thirty year old Vince was replaced by the young bimbo that only wanted to show of his body.

That was his life and he was content with it.

And after what felt like forever, Vince was finally truly happy.