Vintage Clint Walker photos colorized by Google Flow AI

oozey mess

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@muscletheftgod
Vintage Clint Walker photos colorized by Google Flow AI
GRANDPA LOUIS' MUSCLE GRAND THEFT ADVENTURE PART 1
Authors Note: The images are AI generated but the story is completely from me. None of this story was AI generated.
Grandpa Louis may not have been a great man in stature or build, but he was a great man to whoever knew him. He helped dozens of young men throughout his life. In addition to raising his own family, he had taken in young men from broken homes, given them life skills as a foster parent and helped them to get placed into adoption. He did this with his wife until she died of cancer some ten years prior. He had helped so many men reach their potential but now his own life was crumbling.
He had to put the house into a reverse mortgage in order to pay his medical bills. He didn't tell any of his former foster kids about his financial problems because he saw them as his own problems, but...the debts were piling up. His Social Security didn't cover all his expenses. And then there was his grandson, Jackson. Jackson was once a good boy but he had moved in with Grandpa Louis because his parents were fed up with his behavior and they were having their own financial problems caused by lost investments. Everyone was suffering financially but it didn't seem to phase Jackson, who wanted to become a professional gambler like his idols in the manosphere. He worshiped the videos of Dan Bilzerian and Andrew Tate. He would casually explain how women were just sex objects and alpha gods among men like himself were meant to conquer them and make them submissive. Grandpa Louis had calmly tried to explain how to treat women but Jackson had only pretended to listen so he could get free room and board.
Jackson had income because he dominated gay faggots online and they gave him their savings just for a chance to talk to him. Jackson didn't tell his Grandpa everything but Louis knew he had an income to buy expensive shoes and clothing, supplements and he had enough money to take girls out and to keep his nice ride in good condition. He heard through Jackson's bedroom door what he was doing and while disgusted, promised himself that Jackson would come around some day.
Grandpa Louis decided to go through some of his family's antiques to see what he could sell. After all, they had sentimental value but what good was that when you are barely able to pay your food bills? He wished Jackson could be less selfish. What could possibly give the younger man some humility?
Digging through an old chest, he found something unexpected. His great uncle had been an archaeologist in the early 20th century. Finding tablets with cuneiform, an ancient amulet covered with old writing thousands of years old, he realized he had something that might be very valuable! Surely they wouldn't ever let an archaeologist take this home with him. His great uncle must have sneaked these items out of the Middle East. Maybe they would sell on the black market. Maybe Jackson could tell him about someone in the underworld who could sell them. He thought bitterly to himself how he just expected his grandson would be able to do something immoral and that he could connect his grandfather with the sort that would do anything for money, but...he was getting desperate.
The glow came just as unexpectedly, filling Grandpa Louie's head with knowledge.
The ancient ones who had preserved its power had received it from a warrior king who received it from some kind of immortal deity that used it to suck the strength of his enemies into his own body! He suddenly could read the writing that just looked like gobbledegook just moments before!
He rushed downstairs, or rather slowly made his way downstairs since he couldn't rush anywhere. The glow of the amulet. The thoughts rushing through his head. Visions of god kings with thousands of men bowing at their feet walking through ancient cities filled with wonders. Magical energy erupted from the amulet just as Jackson walked through the door to scream "Grandpa, what the fuck are you doing??"
Jackson, for his part, didn't want to lose a cash cow. He knew Grandpa Louis needed someone to look out for anything weird happening to his body or some asshole trying to sell him some faggy solar panel scam or some shit like that. He promised his parents as such. The light was nearly blinding. He shielded his eyes.
"I...I don't know...I can't stop it! Please help me!" Grandpa Louis begged, his hands frozen on the tablet.
Jackson made his way forward and felt like he was going to vomit. What the hell was happening!?
"Grandpa! I don't feel good," he slurred the words, slowly as if he was in a dream where time was moving differently. Suddenly, there was no sound. Before there was a pulsing that grew louder and louder and now there was nothing. The amulet was floating in midair. Jackson looked over at Grandpa. Time was flowing between the two of them. Jackson understood what it was without understanding how it was happening. Something was changing in his body. His bodily functions were progressing somehow. He felt a return to the timestream and then there was sound. Horrible horrible sound.
It nearly shattered him. He felt his grandfather's astral body gliding over to his and he resisted it. He took on only the worst aspects of his body. His skin sagged and jutted out, became fleshy and doughy and then puffy. His gut began growing. A little at first. No, not my abs! No! NOOOOO! He screamed internally. He couldn't move now. He felt like falling down but he was in a constant feeling of freefall. He looked up at his grandfather, who was now thin by comparison. Grandpa was having a different reaction.
He felt his son's astral power glide inside his own, merging with it. His body lost all its illnesses. His Parkinson's disease, the thyroid disorder, the arthritis all flowed away from him and into his grandson. His body became filled with a virility he had never experienced. It flowed into him, Flowed like a mighty river of masculinity that filled up his body with muscle. His legs at first felt it, tensing up and then in an orgiastic level of pleasure, his penis came to life and became hard as a rock, which hadn't happened in quite a while. His body retracted and then grew, even his bones felt themselves growing thicker and healthier. The healthy aroma of sweat and pheromonal orgasms, a lifetime of working out, all flowed into Louis. He knew all about athletics now. He knew about exercise and nutrition to a degree he had never known before.
A presence examined them, laughing at them.
"You should have been a better grandson," it growled in Jackson's ear. "I will give the old man all of your strength!" It laughed at him cruelly.
Grandpa Louis felt his pecs and shoulders burst upwards, lifting up his shirt. His arms began to double and then triple in size, mutating muscle like he was some kind of Marvel cartoon character. His shirt ripped and he couldn't unbutton it so he began to shred apart from his sheer size as well as the energy burning his flesh in the best way possible, remolding it into youthful vitality and muscular stature. His back was next; it felt like they were ballooning with cement. He had never felt this way in his life.
His grandson now looked unrecognizable. A fat blimp stood before him, tears streaking his fat face, miserable and his youth all lost now. His body filled with disease and stress, obese and disgusting looking. He still had his young face but it looked slightly older from the sheer stress now placed on his body.
Something fell on the floor with a thud and a crash like a vase shattering. The energy dissipated.
"No! No! This can't be happening! I can't be a lardass! Grandpa, help me! Give it back, you have to!"
"I don't know how," Grandpa Louis said, his words sounding a lot more masculine now. His voice had dropped several octaves. He sounded much better, he thought. He tested his new muscular legs. It felt great to walk around now! I bet I can even go running, he thought. I haven't been able to do that in ages!
"Grandpaaaaa!" Jackson jiggled his giant gut now, rolling like a waterbed. "Nooooooo! No please God I'll be good just make this dream stop. This has to be a dream! This has to be a nightmare!"
But the nightmare was just beginning for Jackson. For Louis, it was an incredible day of relief. He wasn't bombarded with pain. He had the body of a muscular god. Every muscle he had now was brimming with power, control, and yearned for the release of exercise.
"I think we need a change of clothing," he finally said. Of course, most of his clothes were much more snug now as his muscles bulged, well, everywhere. Jackson couldn't fit into anything he owned except for a pair of sweatpants and even those were strained. He found his fat feet could fit into sandals more easily than shoes, which hurt to wear now. He found an old shirt of Grandpa's that was stretched out enough to wear.
After Grandpa explained what happened, Jackson demanded they get another tablet but Grandpa Louis tried reasoning with him he had no idea where to get another amulet. The one they had was now nothing but fragments and dust.
"Doug and Matt's Cigar Adventure: A Mr. Cachimbo Story" PART 1 OF 2
Matt was a happy man. It was the year 2004 and he had just gotten a job with MorphCorp. He had never heard of the company before the interview and he had to move to the Midwest to a small town. A recruiter had actually come to him! Crazy! For someone that had only a few years of barista experience under his belt after graduating, it was a dream come true. MorphCorp had an office that was indistinguishable from any other. It was bland and it paid well. It was perfect.
He had found kindred spirits in Douglas, who was a little bit older than himself. Douglas was nearing 30 and the two of them were just happy to be employed. The work was fairly dull accounting work with some data analysis but with room for advancement according to the recruiter, whose name he couldn't even remember anymore.
"Matt, I need you to do these spreadsheets again. You confused two different companies," Mr. Scott admonished. He had been working for MorphCorp. for less than half a year now.
"I'm...so sorry, Sir. I'm so sorry. Oh my gosh, I can't believe I did that."
"Well. These things can happen. Relabel them. You mixed up the data so just make sure it's accurate. I went through your recent work and the rest is solid."
"It won't happen again. I am, again, so sorry. I apologize."
Matt was falling over himself trying to make up for a small mistake. He was desperate to keep this job. It was after all his first real job, the first job that ever paid him close to a living wage. He could even afford his own apartment! It had all fallen into his lap. He didn't think it would ever happen to him. Finding a job in a professional setting had been nearly impossible for the first few years after he graduated.
One day, they were called into the manager's office. Mr. Scott was a no nonsense kind of guy. A sturdy, classic handsome dad type in his early 50s.
"Alright, let's see...I have a proposal for a new project for you two. You will get a bonus if you accept. The project is for a cigar company in Nicaragua that is looking to build a base of operations here in the US. We are handling the logistics. You'll meet with the American representative of the company later this week should you accept."
Doug and Matt looked at each other. Doug was smiling. Matt was more curious.
"I...don't really know anything about cigars," he admitted. "I don't smoke."
"Well, it's not a prerequisite, of course. But you should know that it will pay you triple what you make now for as long as you are working on this project."
They both raised their eyebrows to that.
"Will I have to actually smoke the cigars?" Matt enquired, hesitantly.
"You will. At least to break bread with the client. His name is Cachimbo. He'll be meeting you at the Rusty Nail tomorrow evening should you accept. And if it's your first time, don't worry. He indicated that he wanted at least one team member who had zero cigar experience. I already know Doug here likes to have a stick every now and then."
"Really. Why?" Matt was confused.
"Because he wants men just like yourself with no cigar experience and welcome them into the cigar world. He considers it a challenge. Triple pay. I need to know yes or now right now."
"Yes. I mean, sure. I just..."
"I'll teach him how to smoke one. Don't worry. You'll love it. You might get a little bit sick at first when you start out but it goes away quickly. Totally worth it once you get the hang of it. Cigars feel amazing. Way better than cigarettes," Doug gushed. He really wanted to help Matt out here. This could be a big break for both of them!
Matt shook his head and shook his manager's hand.
The following day was fairly routine. They received an itinerary for the next week. Mr. Cachimbo had arrived days earlier and was eager to meet them the next day. The Rusty Nail was an old saloon at the edge of town. A place for local men to unwind. Smoking was allowed, which is why Matt never went in. He was a California boy sensitive to his own health but this job did pay a lot...
Doug spent about 30 minutes talking about cigars. He talked about nicotine levels, different tastes, gauges and shapes. He even had printed out a guide on cigar shapes and types for Matt to learn.
A man's shadow crossed over them.
"From the look of those stogies, I'm guessing you're the boys from MorphCorp." The friendly man smiled. He looked European Hispanic, with the slightest bit of a Columbian accent. He was ridiculously handsome and introduced himself as Mr. Manuel Cachimbo, dressed in an expensive suit and carrying himself with absolute certainty and poise. Matt was instantly mesmerized. This guy was like a walking poster for masculinity. The man's muscles bulged underneath his tailor made suit. His sparkling eyes and insanely good looks made him stand out in a bar full of ordinary Midwesterners.
Matt listened carefully as Mr. Cachimbo explained he wanted to target men Matt's age who were new to cigars with an underground campaign to spread word about his company: Abuelo Fuerte. It translated as "Strong Grandfather". He would introduce his cigar brand across America from his new headquarters. Already, his sales agents and lawyers were handling the legal paperwork and ground work had already been established in Florida.
"I actually own a store in Florida but I wanted a base of operations here because I want to buy property in state. I'm interested in owning farmland." God, his voice was so casual and natural and sounded so good, Matt thought. Matt was mesmerized. He sounded so right about everything. He could listen to that voice all night, he thought. This guy seemed like he really knew was he was doing...
"Now, I brought with me some samples of our products. I want you both to try this blend. I'm very proud of it. It's called the "Abuelo Fuerte: Sudor de Caballero".
"Sounds fancy!" Doug chimed, handling the proffered cigar in his hand with gusto. Matt was less enthusiastic and lacked the confidence of the other two men. Doug clipped the tip with the cigar cutter that had appeared on the table and sucked for dear life on his stick, puffing almost right away. Doug released the smoke from his mouth with a near moan.
"It's been over six months since I had a cigar. But damn, that is smooth." Doug's eyes rolled back in his head.
"We know what we're doing. I know my business. I made some of the best cigars in the world. Matt, I want you to follow our lead. Just don't breathe the smoke in. Release it by puffing. Watch me and Doug and how we do it." Matt was mesmerized. He felt himself fascinated by the smoke. He inhaled it has it came out of the men's mouths.
"Smells...soooo good. Wow. Is this why rich guys smoke cigars?"
"Oh, you'll find out." Suddenly, Matt was learning to clip the tip and hold the cigar in his mouth. It felt so right. Nothing had ever felt more right than this moment. Smoke erupted from his mouth. He was...smoking! He had been shaking with nervousness. All the times his parents had told him to never go near tobacco, his friends who looked down on smoking all faded away. He wanted this, he realized. He had always wanted this. He had always wanted to be a cigar man, to smoke cigars with other men. It had been buried deep within him. The secret desire to look cool and feel smoke billowing from his mouth.
In and out. I'm smoking! Me! I'm really smoking! I'm smoking a cigar! He had never felt happier. The warmth spread throughout his body. God, this really DID feel amazing! Cigars made you feel great! No wonder so many real men smoked cigars. Real men smoked cigars. Mr. Cachimbo was telling him this repeatedly and it made sense. Everything Manuel said made sense. He was so smart.
"Let's take a photo of you guys. This is Matt's first cigar but not his last, am I right Matt?"
"Yeah," Matt said, barely able to control his voice. He was so happy he could cry. He was a cigar man now.
Mr. Cachimbo bought them many drinks and time seemed to slip. Not slip away. They could remember him saying things to them. It was all locked inside their minds. They had to remember because it was so important. It was important for everything to go as he had planned.
The next day at work, Doug and Matt had never felt better. Their attitude had shifted. They felt really really good.
"Those were some amazing cigars last night."
"I know. I keep thinking about them," Matt said. "It felt so right. I think I'm going to be a cigar smoker."
"Yeah? Fuck yeah, man!" Doug was so happy for Matt. Being a cigar smoking man was a dream come true, really. It made him feel so powerful being with Mr. Cachimbo the night before. He barely remembered going home at all. Did they spend all night with Manuel? When had he gone to sleep? Oh well. It didn't matter.
They got called into Mr. Scott's office. Things had changed in that it looked a lot nicer than it had before. Things weren't so drab and gray now. It looked like someone had redecorated. It felt like a welcoming place for respectable men.
"I have a few gifts for you two. Cigars from Mr. Cachimbo. We have a box for each of you and you can share of course. We have a box of Imperial Blend for you, Doug. Matt, for you we have some Regal cigars. Both of them of course mean kings. Mr. Cachimbo wanted me to relay how happy he was with your ideas for distribution last night.
"Oh yeah," Doug agreed. "We had a very beneficial discussion last night." We did? A voice deep inside him asked. I didn't even have time to form any kind of distribution plan. But I must have. I think I said some really smart stuff last night when time started slipping. It was a blur. Mr. Cachimbo could be the best thing that had ever happened to him. No. He looked at the box of Imperials. He was definitely the best thing that had ever happened to him. Doug was filled with confidence like he'd never been before.
Matt was grinning. He felt so free. This was the best he ever felt.
"You two have letters addressed to you. Open them at your cubicles. You will receive instructions for your duties today inside. You're dismissed."
"Thank you, Mr. Scott!" they both gushed. They couldn't contain their smiles as they headed back to their desks. Wow! Free cigars! Matt was giddy. He had never even wanted to smoke cigars before yesterday. No. Wait. That wasn't true. He wanted to as a boy. He idolized Arnold and Stallone. He loved the smell of cigars. That time he was on the beach and there was a man smoking a cigar. And the time in the park when he passed a man smoking. The smell had been intoxicating. He remembered every single instance where he had come across a man smoking cigars in public. He had been mesmerized every time. He had fantasized about smoking cigars from an early age. He had been guilted in his teens and throughout college by friends who really weren't very good friends. They couldn't have been good friends if they persuaded him not to smoke cigars.
Matt and Doug both set their cigar boxes (They looked so expensive!) on their respective desks and tore into the envelopes left for them. Inside was a memo that stated:
"Dear Matt/Doug,
Congratulations! Welcome to the Abuelo Fuerte family! I will be sending you assignments via email. There is a survey I want you to fill out. That is your first task. You will answer as honestly as you can.
I am sending you a pdf file for the spread of my company's influence. Your ideas have already been included in the document. I am most pleased by your ability to articulate exactly what your experience growing up in America was like in regards to the attitudes regarding cigars. We are going to be reshaping young college aged men who are ready for the cigar experience. Colleges will be a big part of our game plan. Thank you for your ideas regarding how to reach out to fraternities and organizations off campus that can draw in young men who are unsure about their life goals. We plan to pair our own company's goals with issues of male empowerment and the search for prestige and status. We are excited for the opportunity to welcome you on this project. Enjoy the cigars included today. Please take the time to enjoy one of each of these cigars and submit a review for each. Your manager is aware you will need time to go outside and smoke. This is perfectly fine as you will be on the clock. We will be looking at your writing skills to best determine how much cigar education you will require over the course of your time with Abuelo Fuerte.
Your reviews will be due by the end of your work shift. Feel free to look up cigar reviews and study them as well as the list of cigar vocabulary terms to memorize you will find in your email.
I look forward to speaking with you again.
Sr. Manuel Cachimbo, CEO of Abeulo Fuerte Cigars."
"Dude. How many days have we been smoking at work and getting paid for it?" Doug asked, suddenly.
"I don't know. This is the best job I ever had!" Matt gushed. His sudden newfound energy was inexhaustible. He had been plowing through his assignments. He had been so diligent on advertising, networking, pitch meetings, and he had been killing it with every assignment Mr. Cachimbo had sent them. His review writing skills for cigars was phenomenal now.
"Dude, I know. It feels like I can't remember what it's like to NOT have a cigar every day!"
"Fuck that! Cigars are life, brother! Cigars make me so happy. I can't believe I ever lived my life without them!"
They walked around the various nondescript buildings. A woman walked up and complained to them about the smell. They ignored her and kept walking, smiling to each other. When they encountered men in the parking lot, they struck up conversations with them about their work environment and offered to sell them some cigars at a very low price. Each and every single time, the man in question would stare blankly and then agree he'd like that. They would get business cards and information. It was almost too easy. Men loved to talk to them now. They were working for a cigar company. It was basically the coolest job in the world.
One strange thing was how little Doug and Matt were thinking about girls. They had both spend their whole lives trying to date the hottest women possible. They didn't have girlfriends at the moment but they had been so busy working, smoking cigars and time was just slipping. They couldn't describe it any other way.
Matt thought about high school and all the girls he had to date. Had to? Like it was a chore? All their perfume and dressed. I mean, it was nice for some guys. They were pretty. Nothing wrong with pretty women. They made him good meals sometimes and that was nice. But...it just was so...lacking. Sex was okay but wouldn't it be better with cigars? He kept thinking about it. Imagine getting a blow job while smoking a cigar!
"Are you two working out? Looks like you're gaining a few pounds of muscle there," Mr. Scott told them one day when they came in to talk cigars.
They received their weekly boxes of cigars with excitement. Each week was a different box. They smoked contentedly outside the building and hat home and between assignments, Matt and Doug both found themselves looking up exercise regimens. Doug bought some bodybuilding magazines. It was strange how he had never thought to actually really make a push to gain muscle before. What was he thinking? He was a man. A man should be muscular and pungent. A man should smell like a man, he thought proudly. It made him hard. Being a man with muscle getting attention in public. Imagine walking down the street smoking a cigar and every woman was looking at your muscles. Or men. It was good for men to look at you, too. Jealous of my muscles. Yeah. He drooled and got hard.
Matt and Doug talked about going to the gym but there was something they had to do first, they knew. They had to try...the blend. They had been waiting for it. The first cigar they tried with Mr. Cachimbo had been the best, they both knew. They had been smoking Cohibas and Macanudos, Padrons and Montecristos. Several a day. As natural as drinking water. Funny how Matt hadn't gotten sick at all like Doug said he might. No, if anything...cigars helped him feel much better all the time! But nothing compared with Mr. Cachimbo's special blend and they had been waiting for it. Finally, the day came when they received the boxes.
When Mr. Scott brought them in, they celebrated with some drinks. Mr. Scott was also helping himself to cigars given to him by Mr. Cachimbo. He was doing real well these days, he told them. Even thinking about taking a trip down to Columbia, he said.
Abuelo Fuerte: Sudor de Caballero
Even the words sang in their heads as they lit them, inhaling their incredible odor. The smoke filled Matt's nose and lungs. He had begun experimenting with inhaling the cigar smoke fully. It was such a rush! He felt like even more of a man knowing that many cigar smokers didn't inhale. Probably because he wasn't a pussy, he thought. He was a real man and now it was time for the world to see him walking down the street smoking cigars, showing off his big muscles to the world. He had to get big muscles, he thought.
Mr. Cachimbo and Matt walked down the street that night smoking the special blend together. Matt was dizzy with joy. He told Mr. Cachimbo over and over again he'd never been happier. Mr. Cachimbo smiled knowingly. He would chomp the cigar in his mouth or take it out and slowly exhale clouds of delicious woodsy spicy aroma: pepper and earth and cacao and the scent of his Montblanc cologne overpowered Matt's senses, sending him into overload. The taste of his tongue burned as Mr. Cachimbo slipped his own tongue into his mouth. To feel another man's tongue who had been smoking cigars! To taste his mouth! The smells of his sweat and his perfect voice whispering in his ear! The taste of days old stubble prickling Matt's tongue has he licked his perfect handsome cheeks. The stubble, all the grain sized hairs that prickled his tongue combined with the richest tobacco on the planet. Soon he was deeply kissing the taller man, who gripped him in an alleyway. They held their burning cigars in the dark shadows, kissing and smoking alternately, blowing smoke in each other's faces.
Matt's face became one of longing. He'd wanted this his whole life. And now he finally had it.
The Abuelo Fuerte was beyond good. It filled him with happiness and relief. Matt found himself with Doug at the Rusty Nail.
"You're my best friend, man. I'm so happy we're both smoking the same cigars, brother!" Matt gushed. What a time to be alive! It felt so freeing! "I've never felt so free!"
"Man, this is the life. Cigars and booze and uh...there's only one thing that would make this better."
"Oh fuck yeah. Fuck yeah." Matt moaned.
"Fuck yeah," Doug said back to him. "Fuck yes. I love you so fucking much."
"We're probably attracting attention."
"Let's get the fuck out of here. Now."
Time seemed like it was slipping.
"Just a little bit more. I don't care if people stare. Let them." Matt kissed the man he loved deeply. "We're fucking hot, dude."
"Why don't I take a photo of you two?"
The boys turned to their benefactor, the man who had introduced them to a whole new world of pleasure.
The posed for the camera. Muscular cigar smoking hunks who only barely resembled the two former straight men who had originally met him oh so many months ago.
"Say Churchill!"
"Churchill!"
"So Mr. Cachimbo, when are we gonna take a tour of America, huh?" Doug asked. "Go to all those college campuses full of hot studs just waiting to become cigar men, huh?"
"All in good time, men. All in good time."
"I'm more interested in visiting the factory down south of the border!"
"Again, one day you will. Soon. You boys have been doing better work for me than you know." The two hunks smiled at each other.
Can't wait to fit my big dick inside him, Matt thought. My man. He thought back to the days where he was pretending to be happy with women. Disgusting. They didn't like cigars or whiskey. Sex was a million times better with cigars and booze at the same time. Not to mention he was a lot bigger now. He had discovered the gym. How long had it been? It felt like he'd always been a muscular hunk.
Doug was never popular with the ladies. They had gravitated to Matt in college but he had been so shy and apologetic and fell over himself. It was a turn off. Now that they were both real men, it was different, though. Doug thought with disgust over the women he'd been with. Boobs? What was he even supposed to do with a woman's breasts? He needed firm pecs. Strong pecs. Big fuckin' strong pecs like Matt had! Fuck yeah! Big fucking muscles and big fuckin' cigars! That's what life was all about!
"I'm very happy with your progress, boys. Pretty soon, you'll be helping my business spread across the country. We're going to send you to a university two weeks from now."
The two smiled. This was going to be what they had waited for so long. Imagine all those hot jock boys strutting their stuff. Imagine all the would be jocks just waiting to be unleashed. They just needed someone to free them from their lives like Mr. Cachimbo had with theirs. Before daily cigars and becoming packed with muscles, what had their lives been? Almost nothing compared to what their lives were now. Now things were much, much better.
"So are we gonna show these boys how to be men, huh boss?" Matt asked, his voice now dripping with masculine energy, grace and confidence.
"Oh, yes. Yes, Matt. You're going to be changing lives everywhere you go," Mr. Cachimbo said, smiling. And then he lit up his own stogie. "Now," he puffed a giant cloud of heaven their way, "Let's go home and fuck."
"Yes, sir, boss!" they both chorused, smirking as they left for a nice of utter pleasure beyond anything they had ever known when they had been straight.
TO BE CONTINUED
Like a God
I've known that I was a Swapper since middle school, but I couldn't exactly use my power at all. Usually, people would have to agree to a swap for it to work- but I found a loophole. I found out that i could get them to pseudo agree if I agreed to do something on my end-- they didn't have to know about it.
"I'll do your homework" for 5 pounds of muscle.
So of course I made myself a target for the frats, and that didn't take much. All I had to do was offer to help out with homework once, the rest would funnel to me through word of mouth.
At 2 weeks I had gained 50 pounds of muscle, and nearly a foot in height. Seeing abs on my scrawny ass body for the first time was intoxicating. I felt unstoppable- like a god. If I wanted to I could just "trade" my services for a bigger amount- but I want it to be gradual. I want to feel my muscles pulse bigger with each guy. I want to see the frats losing life as they slowly become dweebs. It's more fun to drag out their torture.
You could tell the ones that would come to me more, Jackie– he would've killed me if i called him that a month ago- is now a 5'6" hyperfeminine twink. And boy can that boy take a dick.
Of course I'm the one who controls the transfer, so I started changing the way I stole. Some guys that were late to the party got lucky. I would let them keep their muscle, but I'd drain their dominance and an inch or so off their dick. This guy for example used to be an asshole, now he begs for my cock, just like the rest of my cumdumps.
I know that deep down they remembered their past selves. They remembered that they used to be taller, straight. -but that's the thing about us Swappers, once we've imprinted on you, there's no going back.
The days passed by and I admit, I got a little overzealous. Right now I'm 7 feet tall, 350 pounds of pure muscle, swinging around the biggest dick you've seen in your life. Most of the fags I drained just hangout around me now, I think they think of me as a god of some kind. A god that took away their suffering, giving them pleasure by fucking them with the dick i stole from them.
The boys didn't know that the frat wanted men...real men. The testosterone increased with every puff of their cigars. Their follicles weakened as they became more virile. The testosterone surged and their hair receded more and more until they had the same hairlines as their fathers. Now they looked like real men. It was all thanks to the special blend of cigars sold to the frat by their supplier, Mr. Cachimbo. They loved their new look. It felt sexy to be going bald at the age of 18. They would never be carded again. They would have no end of sex now that they had no desire for women. The frat became a place of perpetual sexual release, cigar induced orgasms and physical affection between all four men. They had never experienced so much sex. The frat offered constant sexual satisfaction and the glow on their faces whenever they looked at their new balding faces, reminders they were boys no longer.
An alternate universe "Screech" Samuel Powers, after he became a musclehead bully like the kind of asshole that liked to push him around in high school. After making Zach Morris his little bottom bitch, he gained confidence, becoming a muscular giant that didn't let anyone push him around.
Post high school Samuel Powers aka Screech from Saved By the Bell after he becomes vice principal.
Big badass Leonard from Big Bang Theory in an alternate universe where he became a biker thug to gain confidence.
Just another day at the office...
welcome to the small town Midwest ! There's not a lot going on but hey, plenty of free time maybe?
LOL I will have plenty of time to get used to trees and grass again.
Looking for new friends
I'm an American gay male who has spent several years abroad. I'm returning home to the US and I find a lot of my online friends have dried up lately. I'm moving to a very small town in the Midwest so I'd like to hear from you if you're an American man who enjoys my stories and you'd like to get to know me better. I also want to write more and hopefully I can find time. I would love to talk about male tf and I am especially interested in making friends with men around my own age (I'm a few years away from the big 5-0). I have been avoiding apps and please for the love of God don't ask me to join Telegram.
PS I have tried to find chat sites online and I have found exactly zero with real humans.
Future Stories
I've been working overseas in the Middle East for several years now and I'm finally heading back home to America. I want to celebrate by getting back to story writing if I can. I have just so many ideas, but I've had zero time to write of late. Some of my more pressing ideas include:
The King of the Beach - a BDSM historical erotic thriller inspired by the original muscle comic by Charles Atlas but with a muscle theft twist.
A Weird Science story with several episodic chapters based on the 90s TV series featuring an incest/BDSM themed plotline between Wyatt and Chett (not to mention lots of transformation scenes and wishes gone wrong) as they slowly but surely fall in love after a lifetime of competition and bullying.
The Heavy Spurs - this is a series I began years ago but didn't continue with and I regret that. The idea is a magical diner takes liberties to change its customers (gender, size, age, blue collar/white collar, cowboy, muscle) for karmic reasons. Karma is a big theme of my work overall. I have many ideas for different decades/eras (from the 1920s all the way up to current day). The staff is magical/immortal and they appear in different times and places across the US.
MK Ultra Love Stories - A domination themed story idea I've had for a long time. A lead mind control scientist has a side project where he turns straight men gay, gay men straight, dominant men to submissives, submissive men into dominants, etc. He changes entire personalities. He creates a harem of men devoted to him, including his old childhood nemesis and high school bully, who he molds into the perfect manservant.
A Peter Parker/J. Jonah Jameson daddy/son story where in an alternate universe, Jonah becomes Peter's adopted father after Uncle Ben dies and becomes his biggest supporter when he discovers Peter's powers. The reason I like this idea is because Jonah always took out his son's death on Peter in the comics, which was totally unfair as he had nothing to do with it. Jonah just used him as a narcissistic scapegoat. But I love the idea of them working together as a daddy/son team because just imagine the fireworks. Can you imagine them? I can imagine them.
A Jimmy Olsen/Superman story where Jimmy and Clark in some alternate Metropolis are happily bonded boyfriends living together when Jimmy suddenly and accidentally absorbs all of Clark's powers, size, height and muscle mass. How would Clark deal with becoming an average runt sized human nerd? How would Jimmy deal with his sudden overwhelming size, not to mention his guilt? How would their relationship progress as Jimmy has to use his own skill set to defeat criminals and supervillains while Clark stays at home and creates a Jimmy Olsen Fan Club?
These are all on my list of things to write.
AI generated posters for imaginary adaptations of "Vice Versa" from the 50s, 60s and 70s. I tried a prompt where the father is a construction worker and a navy officer.
Clint Eastwood if he were a roided up gay muscle daddy.
Muscle morphed Neil Patrick Harris. The top image is a morph I made a long time ago with photo manipulation. The latter two were made with AI from that first image.
Your buddy Chris brought you a bottle of hair tonic. You saw his yesterday clean shaven and today he had a mustache. He knew you’d always wanted to grow out a beard but found yours to be slow-growing and patchy. Chris said the tonic would be your ticket to a rocking beard. He told you to give it a go and pass it on. Chris didn’t give you directions so you applied a couple droppers to your face. Within a few seconds you were amazed to see stubble start to fill in and grow out.
At this point you were loving your new look. The hair continued to lengthen and thicken on your face making you look older and more mature. “Don,” you thought to yourself, “you’re going to be the newest hit on campus!”
“That’s the perfect length” you thought. Maybe you should have asked for some dosage directions because the hair keet growing making you start to worry. When would this stop?!
After a few more seconds, which felt like an eternity the hair stopped growing. You ran your hand through your new thick beard and admired the handlebar mustache that puttered out at the very end. “WOW,” you thought “I did want a rocking beard but I didn’t assume I’d have a ZZ Top level of rock!” Guess it’s time for you to invest in a new beard trimmer…or maybe some hedge clippers.
My Youtube Channel
I have been experimenting with AI to create short clips with body swap, AP/AR and other male TF themes.
Male transformation scenes, male TF, male body swap, muscle growth AI videos