MonkeyBoy19

[the-toy-boy]

[itstransformingtime]

Marc and his boyfriend Alex had been so excited for this holiday. A relaxing week in the sun, plenty of time by the pool, and lots of private time together. They booked the “Lads Holiday Package” because it was the cheapest all-inclusive option and they were on a tight budget.

They had no idea what they were getting into.

The moment they checked in at the resort desk, the receptionist gave them both a big grin and scanned their booking.

“Welcome to the Lads Holiday Package, boys! Enjoy your transformation.”

Before they could ask what he meant, a warm wave washed over both of them.

Their bodies changed first. Muscles swelled and hardened. Their chests pushed out into thick, defined pecs, abs carved themselves in, arms and shoulders grew bigger and stronger. Both of them turned into the perfect, athletic lads.

Then came the mental shift.

Their memories of being a gay couple blurred and rewrote themselves. Dates, anniversaries, and intimate nights together were replaced with gym sessions, footy matches, pulling girls, and getting pissed with the lads. Their attraction to each other vanished, replaced by a strong, straight-bro bond.

By the time the changes finished, they were no longer a gay couple, they were two cocky, straight lads ready to destroy the holiday.

The week that followed was pure chaos and the best time of their lives.

Mornings were spent in the gym flexing and lifting heavy. Afternoons meant shirtless pool days, getting pissed, playing loud music, and chatting up girls. Evenings were even more wild, hitting the local bars on the strip, pulling fit girls, shagging them in the toilet, and high-fiving each other the next morning while swapping stories. They felt unstoppable.

On the last night, as they sat on the beach with beers in hand, Alex slapped Marc on the back.

“Best holiday ever. We need to book this package again next year.”

Marc grinned. “100%. Lads on tour forever.”

When they checked out the next morning, the same receptionist smiled knowingly and scanned their room keys.

“Ending the Lads Holiday Package now. Safe travels, gentlemen.”

Another warm wave hit them.

The reversal was gentler this time. They were back to their original selves, their memories and orientations shifted back. The straight-lad mindset faded, replaced by their original personalities and love for each other.

Marc blinked, suddenly looking at Alex with familiar affection. Alex looked back at him, eyes softening as the realization hit.

“…Did we just spend a week as straight lads?” Marc asked, half-laughing.

Alex grinned, pulling him in for a kiss right there in the lobby.

“Yeah. And it was fucking hilarious. I can’t believe how much fun we had pulling girls and acting like complete tools.”

They both laughed, still buzzing from the experience.

As they left the resort, Marc turned to Alex.

“So… same package again next year?”

Alex squeezed his hand, smirking.

“Absolutely. Best holiday we’ve ever had.”

[merryy3dbhsjsk]

Not All Witches…

If you spend enough time driving through old American towns during the summer, you start believing they're all the same. White clapboard houses with peeling paint with front porches draped in flags that barely moved in the humid air. Elderly couples rocking in wooden chairs, waving at strangers as though they'd been best friends in a former life. Everything smelled faintly of fresh-cut grass, charcoal grills, and sunscreen. These where places that just felt wholesome and safe, like stepping into a postcard.

But this was where I met her.

She wasn't hidden away in the woods brewing potions over a cauldron. She wasn't ugly nor was she frightening. If anything, she looked like the sort of woman your grandmother might invite over for lemonade. Neatly curled silver hair and a pastel cardigan despite the July heat. White sneakers that were so clean they looked brand new. She complimented my manners after I helped her carry groceries onto her porch, insisting I stay for iced tea because, in her words, "It's nice seeing a polite young man again."

I figured she was lonely and humored her. We talked for nearly an hour, and she knew pretty much everything about me by the end of that conversation. She asked where I was from, what I wanted to do with my life, whether I'd ever thought about settling down somewhere quieter. Every question sounded innocent, but looking back, I can't remember answering any of them. I only remember how comforting her voice became. Like she'd already known every answer before asking.

When I stood to leave, she disappeared inside for only a moment before returning with a small paper bag.

"My grandson never wore these," she smiled. "They'd suit you much better."

Inside was a pair of brown leather flip-flops that looked quite expensive. I tried refusing, not really my vibe. I was more the opposite of the all American boy, working towards a journalism degree and an amateur climate activist, but I try not to think of that now. Anyway, She insisted I take the shoes. When I slipped them on they fit perfectly.

I didn’t notice anything amiss as I headed towards my motel. The sandals slapped against the pavement like flip-flops normally do. They molded around my feet so completely that after a few blocks I genuinely forgot I was wearing them. It wasn't until I took them off that evening that something felt wrong.

My bare feet looked weirdly cleaner, odd since I had been in my dirty car and walked through the motel. They also seemed younger? The calluses I'd built hiking were gone and old scars had disappeared. Even my toenails somehow looked neatly trimmed and healthier than they'd been that morning. I laughed it off at the time, chalking it up to vacation doing weird things to my brain.

The dreams started that night. In them, I was standing on a long front porch overlooking a quiet suburban street. Everything was painfully clean, not a thing out of place, no weeds, no cracks in the sidewalk, the flags all fluttering in perfect rhythm despite there being no wind. Children rode bicycles on the paved roads without making a sound. And at the far end of the street, she sat watching me.

I woke before sunrise. In case you're wondering, I don't wake before sunrise, ever. But that morning lying in bed felt lazy. The room looked messy. My suitcase hadn't been unpacked properly and the shirts inside were probably wrinkled. That bothered me, like really bothered me.

So I ironed everything, then folded each shirt into perfectly even stacks, then arranged my toiletries by height. I spent nearly fifteen minutes making the motel bed before leaving, halfway through I realized I'd never cared about any of this before. Odd, well it made me feel good seeing everything in its perfect place. 

I kept wearing the sandals. The sandals were comfortable, they felt nice, reliable, and proper on my feet. In contrast, the thought of sneakers felt heavy and cheap. 

Later that afternoon I found myself wandering into clothing stores I'd never normally enter. Walking past the graphic tees and sneakers. Finding the section of neatly folded polos, Khakis, and light sweaters in the back. The sort of clothes I'd once joked only country club dads wore, in poor taste.  Every time I looked in the mirror wearing them they looked right. I felt like I'd finally dressed the way I was always supposed to.

By the third day of my vacation I noticed people treating me differently. Older women smiling at me and older men nodding approvingly. The store clerks called me "sir." Children instinctively moved aside as I walked past. It made me feel important, but I was slightly confused, I wasn't doing anything different? Was I?

Then I caught my reflection in a restaurant window and saw my hair. It wasn't my hair anymore, I usually wore it messy, long enough to fall into my eyes. Now it sat neatly combed to one side. I rushed to the restroom and soaked it under the sink. But thirty seconds later it settled back into the exact same style. What?

The changes became impossible to ignore after that. The stubble I'd spent years growing because I hated looking younger simply stopped coming back. Every morning my face looked freshly shaved despite never touching a razor. The tiny scar beside my eyebrow disappeared and the circles beneath my eyes faded. I even felt myself smiling more, no matter what. 

Then my memories began disappearing. Nothing dramatic at first, at least that I noticed, just little things. The name of my favorite band, a restaurant I used to visit every Friday, tye password to a game I'd played for years. But then came the larger things, friends' birthdays, college memories, and inside jokes. The apartment I'd lived in for three years slowly dissolved into vague impressions.

And every time one memory faded something replaced it, making caring about the spots impossible. Proper etiquette, recipes for casseroles, and the correct way to fold polo shirts. The importance of maintaining appearances, how to greet neighbors, how to stand while holding a drink, and how to introduce myself with confidence. This was knowledge I'd never learned, it all just appeared, perfectly organized and ready to use.

I returned to her house on the fifth day because I couldn't stop thinking about her. Part of me wanted answers, but another unspoken part wanted approval. She opened the door before I knocked.

"I was wondering when you'd come home."

Home, this wasn’t my home, the phrasing should have terrified me. Instead it filled me with strange warmth. She invited me inside, the house smelling like fresh pie and furniture polish. Every room looked frozen in time with family photographs covering every wall. 

But looking closer, they weren’t family photos, no, they were dozens of young men. The photos spanned every decade, from the seventies to now. All of the clean cut young men proudly standing next to her, smiling, different faces but the same type of man. Over and over and over again, some even looked vaguely familiar.

She noticed me looking at them and smiled wildly. 

"You thought witches turned people into monsters," she said as she adjusted the collar of my shirt, her fingers cold on my thicker neck. 

"So many stories get it backwards.The clever ones don't make beasts, they make gentlemen. So much easier to keep." Her hand rested against my cheek.

The next couple days passed by in a blur, I could barely remember why I'd been afraid. Every time panic surfaced it faded beneath a comforting certainty that everything was finally in order.

I spent the afternoon repainting her porch railing. I don't know how to paint, yet somehow when I finished, it was painted perfectly. The neighbors waved and they all knew my name. At least the new one, even though I couldn't  remember the old one anymore. She doesn't call me that, so no one does.

One morning I found an old driver's license in my wallet. The picture wasn’t mine, The boy staring back had messy hair, dark circles, and a crooked smile. He looked uncertain and aimless, I knew that, though I’m not sure how. I kept staring at him for several minutes, trying desperately to remember who he was. Eventually I decided he must have been someone I'd known years ago. I threw the license away, It felt dishonest keeping someone else's identification.

My sandals have become part of me now, my favorite part to be exact. I don't remember my first day wearing them anymore, I don't remember owning other shoes. I contemplated this on the porch, sipping on a glass of sweet tea, my new sweater draped over my shoulders. I watched the neighborhood with quiet satisfaction, there’s always young travelers passing by in the summer. Some stop to ask for directions, Some compliment the flowers, and Some help carry groceries. When they do stop, Mistress smiles, then asks me to fetch the extra pair of sandals from the hall closet. They're always the right size and they always fit perfectly. Every time I watch someone slip them on l chuckle inside, they’ll be surprised to learn not all witches are green, some are red, white and blue. 

(This one was so fun, requested ideas was a witch’s cursed objects, I took this and made it summery. I hope you enjoy! Only too left!)

[salmonskinrolltf]

Quick and Dirty Idea: Two boyfriends trying to spice up their sex life with a role playing game find that they've role-played a little too well into completely different lives.

[This Quick and Dirty story was written by a human (me), to combat overuse of AI in TF storytelling. I wrote it in one uninterrupted stream-of-consciousness flow with a hard time limit of 20 minutes. It is not perfect. No edits have been made, except to correct typos. Feel free to use my asks to send me more prompts!

All characters depicted in this story and in these images are 18+.]

It had taken Jerry (right) a long time to feel comfortable in his skin. He’d been bullied a lot in high school, and he’d carried a lot of that baggage with him into adulthood. It had taken him an even longer time to admit to his loving partner, Troy (left), that… it turned him on a lot to think about that time.

He’d had such a crush on his bully, Victor, in high school. The dude was awful. Horrible. But he was so muscular. So hot. So masculine, even at 18. Everything Jerry wanted in a man. Minus the constant verbal abuse. But every time that awful Victor had poked, prodded, or shoved him, all he could think about what what a thrill it was to be touched by him.

Troy had helped him come to terms with this through liberal use of role-play. They had separated out the BDSM elements of Jerry’s fetish from the bullying he experienced. At first, Jerry played the helpless nerd, recreating his high school days. Knowing that Troy loved him and cared for him, even if he was briefly pretending not to, helped him feel safe in exploring his fantasies.

But tonight, they were going to switch things up. Jerry was going to play the bully this time and see how he liked being the dominating partner.

Because it was a special night, they added a twist to the proceedings. Troy was a high school gym teacher, so he had the key to the locker room. The school was completely empty past 8 PM, so the men would have the whole place to themselves…

When they slipped into the dark, empty locker room, cocks throbbing, they both immediately started coughing and choking. The room had been empty for hours, but it still smelled distinctly like Axe body spray. It made them both feel slightly dizzy, but they didn’t care. They were ready to experience the night of their lives.

The second they stepped over the threshold, the role-play began. Troy stripped to his underwear and turned on the shower, stepping under the spray. He held his hands tightly across his chest, like he was a skinny 18-year-old who was nervous to be showering around other boys.

Jerry took a brief moment to admire his husband’s beautiful body before imagining a skinny, nervous teenager in his place. He took some deep breaths and hopped up and down, hoping that he could tap into his adrenaline to allow him to properly play an angry high school bully.

He cracked his neck and took off all his clothes, except for his jock strap, which would be coming off soon enough. In their story, Troy was too nervous to be fully naked, but Jerry wasn’t. And he would lord that fact over his prey.

Jerry pounded his chest and did his best strut over to the shower.

“Hey there, wimp,” he said. “What’s with the tighty whities? Too scared to let the rest of us see your shrimp dick?” He smiled cruelly. Wow, he thought to himself, that was a pretty good improv.

“I- I- I’m not s-s-scared,” said Troy, shivering and looking nervous. He was doing a great job. Too good, actually. Was he actually uncomfortable? Jerry decided to break character and check.

“What’s the matter, pipsqueak?” he asked. Oops. That came out a little too in-character.

He tried to make his voice sound nicer. It came out in a mocking coo. “Let a real man show you how it’s done.”

Fuck, that wasn’t what he meant to say at all. But the boner tenting Troy’s underwear did all the talking for him. Jerry decided to just stay in character.

He rubbed his hands down his body, tucking his fingers into his jock strap and wiggling the strap teasingly. As he did so, he felt a cold shiver run through him. Maybe that same shiver was what he had sensed in Troy. It really was cold in here. Whatever. He soldiered on, running his hands down his body again, not noticing as most of the fat drained away from his chubby torso, the remainder hardening into firm muscle. His beard fluttered to the floor as his follicles released their grip on his hair. The back and sides of his blond hair similarly fell to the wet tile as his remaining hair darkened.

He tore off his jock strap in one swift movement, his dick springing out and bouncing. It felt heavier than usual. And was it an inch or two longer?

“You don’t got it like I do, pipsqueak,” he said, running his hands over Troy’s body. Troy’s own fat sloughed away, but it wasn’t replaced with anything, leaving him a skinny beanpole. His beard also fell to the floor, his brown hairs mingling with Jerry’s blond ones as they swirled down the drain. The hair on his head didn’t go anywhere, though. In fact, it got even longer, forming messy bangs over his forehead and an awkward, feathery mullet at the back. His lips plumped up, giving him an innocent, bitable mouth.

Jerry glared at his newly skinny partner, grabbing the skin on his hip between his thumb and forefinger.

“No meat on them bones, pipsqueak,” he said. “But a hole’s a hole.”

He glared like he’d never glared before, the action forcing his face into a new shape. Literally. His jaw widened, his eyes grew more sunken, and the slight wrinkles around his mouth and eyes faded away.

He ripped down Troy’s underwear, enjoying the blush on Troy’s face as his hard dick, which looked smaller than it used to, was exposed. Troy's ass was just as large as ever though, which Jerry gleefully noted as he pounded his hard dick in between those pillowy globes, grabbing handfuls of Troy’s new mullet as the nerd squeaked and groaned, eventually shooting cum all over the white tile wall.

————

“What are you looking at?” asked Troy’s friend Eric in the cafeteria the next day.

“Nothing,” said Troy. “Nothing.”

He looked back down at his lunch, blushing furiously. He couldn’t believe what had happened in the locker room. He had waited to shower until all the other boys had left, but he’d had a visitor… He always thought he’d hated Jerry, and he still did, he supposed. But wow… That body. That dick. He’d never experienced anything like it. Well, that was literally true. He’d been a virgin until last night. But whatever that was, he hoped it would happen again.

As Jerry strutted through the cafeteria, he noticed that geeky Troy guy staring at him. Ugh. Virgins. They always wanted more. Something in the back of Jerry’s mind poked at him, making him feel like he owed Troy some kindness and gentleness now that the sex was done. Good joke, voice.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” asked Jerry, planning out the most embarrassing possible ways to torment Troy in the future, in retaliation for being so goddamn needy.

[alphajocklover]

Discord TFs #12

You know I have a lot of depression and anxiety both about the world and my life . I sure wish I had an easy and carefree life where I didn’t have any worries and couldn’t think at all.

Huhuhu, yeah bro. I don't get what those big words you said at the beginning are, but having it easy and carefree is where its at! Who wants to think about sad shit when you can be young, dumb, and full of cum?! Huhuhuhu Fuck yeah bro.

---

Saw a shooting star and just wish I could be a confident strong man's man. My siblings see me as a wuss and all the guys at my college walk all over me. I just wish for a change

It’s time to thank your lucky stars because it looks like your wish came true! You’re not sure how it happened, but the day after you made that wish, you woke up in the body of a muscular, macho, manly man of a man! Your younger brothers, who used to mock you, now look up at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and the college jocks who used to bully you now follow you with a mindless, feverish loyalty. It seems your wish to be a “man’s man” may have been taken a little to literally, because you are definitely gay now, but on the bright side you have twinks literally throwing themselves at you, so you’re getting a lot more tail than before

---

I love my boyfriend so much he is so sensible and so nerdy and so cute, so when he was forced to move out into his straight dumb jock big brother's frat house, I was very sad. What's worse is that he moved out last week and he hasn't replied since he arrived there, I hope they are getting along and he is not getting bullied. Should I visit?

You can’t seem to find your boyfriend anywhere! It’s been a week and you haven’t heard anything from him since he moved into his brothers frat house. You went over to visit, but his brother said he hadn’t seen him for a while. Or, brothers, I should say. You had no idea that your boyfriend’s older brother Chad had a twin named Brad, but your boyfriend never liked to talk about his family, so that wasn’t that surprising. Chad and Brad were surprisingly nice too. They saw how depressed you were and invited you to drink with them. It’s good beer too. Makes you feel all warm and dizzy inside… makes you forget your troubles… make you forget…. Forget….

Huhuhuhuhu

---

Me and my husband just bought an amazing house that we somehow managed to afford, just when we were unpacking, the hottest suburban preppy muscle daddy and his gorgeous hunky preppy son appeared at our door welcoming us and offering some help, so while we are doing stuff the son is really excited for some reason to help my husband while I’m with the dad talking which is weird because it would be the other way around as I’m the younger and more chaotic of the couple.

You weren't expecting the rich hunk next door and his frat boy son to suddenly burst in on you and your husband well you were unpacking, but you figured that maybe this was one of those neighborhoods where people felt comfortable entering someone elses house. You had always lived in cities, where that kind of behavior would get someone shot, but you knew that some more traditional towns worked like that, and Befton was definitely a more traditional town. All your friends back in the city said the guys in Befton, or as they jokingly called it Beef-Ton, were big, rich, traditional, and homophobic, so you had been somewhat worried that the two muscular strangers who had come over were going to run you out of town or something, but they were surprisingly nice. The frat boy, whose name you learned was Sterling, quickly got into a conversation with your boyfriend, who smiled politely as the jock talked about the upcoming football season, well you and his dad, Preston, got to know each other.

As the two of you talked, you could feel your attention drift off. You didn't want to be rude, but you couldn't keep your eyes off Preston. His expensive, showy clothing, his perfect tan, his toned muscles…. something about them spoke to you. Something about him, about his pressence, made you feel… wrong. Like you were wrong. You weren't supposed to be like you had always been. You had to be… like him. You felt your body tense as lean muscles appeared across your body, pushing against the fine fabric of an expensive polo you hadn't been wearing before. You grinned at Preston, a charming, plastic grin that felt so perfect on your now flawless face, before looking out the window. One of the reasons you had moved to Befton was the beautiful beaches, and it looked like your son Ambrose and his new friend were already enjoying the sun. You knew he'd fit right in at his new college. Everyone who moved into Befton fit was a perfect fit after all. Everything was perfect. it had to be.

---

Some days like this I wish I humored order and structure to my life so I could become not only successful but powerful and elite. I also hate how alone I am feeling lately and would love to be surrounded by other people who not only enjoyed my company but could help make me the best me I could be. I just recently got an ad in the mail for Preppy-Tory Academy that basically promised it can help make friends and fix my broken life I just attend one of their seminars. I really hope they can help me become my best self.

Welcome to Preppy-Tory Academy, a specialized school for turning regular joe-shmoes into true elites. See, these days the read men of the world are harder to find than ever, so instead of trying to hang on to the few true elites in the world, we just make more! Soon you'll have rippling muscles, a cocky smirk, and expensive clothing you only wear to show off your sculpted body and audacious wealth. Welcome to a life of looking down on people and partying with your fellow beautiful rich people. I'm sure you'll love it

[merryy3dbhsjsk]

I'd love to see your take on a monkey's paw wish :)

Fit Camp to Frat Camp

The summer he was fourteen, Ethan's parents sent him to Camp Cedar Ridge.They called it a "fitness retreat." But even the sign in front of the camp said “Fat Camp.” 

Honestly, it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd expected. The food wasn't completely terrible, the counselors at least tried to be encouraging, and after a week of hiking, swimming, and pretending dodgeball counted as "team-building," he'd somehow made two good friends.

There was Owen, who could turn any conversation into a lecture about fantasy novels or some bizarre science fact, and Miles, whose social skills were almost impressively awful. He never meant to be rude—he just had an uncanny talent for saying exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong moment. Together, the three of them had quietly become the camp's resident weirdos.

One afternoon, while wandering through the woods behind the cabins, Ethan came across an old storage shed that looked like it hadn't been opened in decades. Most of it was junk, piles of broken lanterns, moldy boxes, rusted tools. But tucked inside a dusty wooden chest was something that was different.

It looked like a dried-up monkey's hand. The leathery fingers were curled into a fist, and somehow it felt warm despite being covered in dust. As he turned it over in his hands, a half-forgotten story drifted back into his mind.

A monkey's paw and three wishes, maybe he had seen the movie but he barely remembered. He knew it was just all just an old superstition. Even so, as he stared at the shriveled paw, he found himself wondering what he would wish for. 

He took it back to his cabin, obviously, it was a shriveled animal part and he was a fourteen year old boy. He also wanted to show it to Owen and Miles, who were in the cabin's small kitchenette when he arrived, loudly debating the integrity of a real life alien invasion. They didn’t even notice then come in, only looking up at the slam the door. 

“Yo, look what I found.”

Owen glanced over. “...That's either a preserved primate paw or the world's least appetizing beef jerky.”

“I found it in the old shed,” Ethan said. “I think it's supposed to be one of those monkey's paws. You know, the wish thing.”

Owen snorted. “Magic violates several fundamental laws of physics.”

Miles looked up. “Also, if it grants wishes, why'd it end up in a dusty shed?”

Ethan frowned. “You two are no fun.”

“I wish you guys were cooler”

Their clothing instantly began to change, replacing their old outfits with a new wardrobe that hung awkwardly off their still-scrawny frames. Owen now wore a pair of khaki shorts and a navy hoodie, while Miles stood beside him in matching shorts and a fitted black T-shirt emblazoned with the logo of a sports team neither nerd recognized. Both sported baseball caps, carelessly turned backward as though they'd been wearing them their whole lives.

The oversized clothes looked ridiculous on them, like toddlers playing dress-up in their fathers' wardrobes. They still had the soft, slightly pudgy bodies they'd always been embarrassed by, and neither boy looked comfortable in the new clothes. Glancing down, they watched their hands begin to change. Their fingers lengthened, palms broadened, and knuckles thickened into large, rough-looking hands as a healthy bronze tan slowly spread across their skin.

The color continued creeping over their bodies, replacing their pale complexions with the sun-kissed glow of boys who spent every free afternoon outdoors. Their feet stretched in tandem with their hands, widening and lengthening until Owen's size eights became solid tens while Miles' pushed all the way to elevens. At the same time, muscle began swelling beneath their skin. Miles instinctively flexed, watching his biceps rise into firm, rounded muscle with an awestruck grin.

"Bro... you're hot," Owen blurted, staring at his friend's rapidly broadening physique. But the changes didn't stop there.

The soft bellies that had always been a source of embarrassment suddenly tightened as though an invisible vacuum were pulling inward from beneath the skin. Every trace of fat vanished, sculpting defined pectorals and sharply cut abs across both torsos. Miles was already convinced his were an eight-pack, even if anyone else would call them a six.

The soft bellies that had always been a source of embarrassment were sucked inwards, like a vacuum sucking from beneath the skin. Every trace of fat vanished, leaving only identical sets of pectorales and immaculate six packs, although Miles would always claim to have an eight pack.  Owen’s khakis became noticeably tight as it filled with a plump bubble butt while miles backside remained tight and muscly. Their entire builds broadened, shoulders widening, chests thickening, and arms filling out until both looked like they had spent years in the weight room rather than behind computer screens.

Both their dicks expanded, flooding their minds with a sudden rush of pleasure.

"Fuck ya, bro!" Miles shouted, his voice dropping into a deep, relaxed drawl that carried no trace of the nasal, awkward nerd he had been only moments before.

Owen laughed, his own voice sounding lower and brashly confident. He absentmindedly scratched beneath his backward cap as dark hair pushed outward, growing longer until thick curls spilled from underneath the brim.

Their faces shifted into place as the final pieces of the transformation settled. Miles' nose broadened, giving his features a stronger, more rugged look, while Owen's jaw sharpened into a broad, square shape that seemed carved from stone. Their cheekbones became more defined, their eyes settled into relaxed, self-assured expressions, and even their smiles took on an easy arrogance. The two boys looked at each other and couldn't help but grin like the narcissistic jocks they had become. 

Ethan stared at them, waiting for one of them to crack the facade of bravado. 

"...Owen?" 

The curly-haired boy frowned. "Who's Owen?” He asked. "My name's Oz, dude."

Ethan laughed nervously. "Very funny. You were just talking about aliens," Ethan insisted. "And fantasy books."

Oz looked genuinely confused. "I don't read, I don’t even know how, lil bro.”

Miles shrugged. "Books are kinda for geeks."

Ethan's smile slowly faded. "But... you guys are geeks."

At that, both boys burst out laughing.

"Good one," Miles said.

As they talked, Ethan noticed the cabin wasn't quite the same anymore. A battered mini fridge now sat beneath the window where a bookshelf had been. Empty pizza boxes rested on the counter. Someone had tossed a hoodie over a chair, and a pair of muddy cleats lay in the middle of the floor like they'd been kicked off after practice. The room felt messier every time he looked away.

Oz grabbed a bottle from the fridge. "Dude, we're almost out of protein shakes."

"We'll grab more after conditioning," Miles replied.

Ethan stepped toward them confused. "Guys... what's going on?"

Oz looked him over for a moment before recognition crossed his face. "Oh, what do you want Ethan?"

"You remember me?"

"Sure," Miles said with a grin. "You're that weird kid."

Ethan blinked. "No... we're friends."

Oz exchanged a glance with Miles before both of them laughed. "Dude," he said, "why would we hang out with you?"

"You seriously need to chill," Miles added. "Maybe spend less time indoors."

The two of them wandered back into the kitchenette, still chuckling to each other. Ethan backed away slowly before hurrying into the bedroom. slamming the door behind him, he immediately started digging through his backpack until his fingers found the monkey's paw.

It was warm in his hands, One finger had uncurled. Outside, Oz and Miles laughed as another loud thud echoed through the cabin, making Ethan look up.

“I wish I had my friends back”

His shoes vanished instantly leaving the portly teen barefoot. His clothes had also shifted, camp tee becoming a white tank and cargos becoming black sweatpants, every piece of clothing fit him completely wrong.  But he didn’t notice, as looking down, his feet seemed to be moving? His toes grew thicker and longer and his feet became long and broad as they resized to a meaty set of 11s.  Simultaneously a dark tan spread across them and hard callouses formed on the bottoms.

In the span of a breath his whole body gained a similar tan, though he was noticeably paler than the other jock bros. His hands expanded to match his feet and grew into meaty mitts. He stared as veins began to pop out from his skin, starting from his hands and continuing up his arms and throughout his body. 

“No, I don’t want this” he shouted, desperately trying to reach the monkey's paw that had fallen off the bed. 

But the changes didn’t stop there, happening too fast now to stop. A large pectoral shelf jutted out, nipples standing erect in the cool air of the cabin.  He lightly tweaked one with his meatier hands, his brain failing to register the movement. His hands moved down the usual curve of his stomach replaced by rigged abs covered by a light treasure trail. His body began to emit a strong odor, a mix of dried sweat and hormones, helped by the much larger bulge in his sweatpants.

 He grabbed it roughly, feeling the extended length in all its glory. A deep sound coming from his throat, a far cry from the voice of a fat nerd yet to go through puberty. The newly minted bro felt a small pressure in his ears when a small pair of studs appeared and his hair became dark and well groomed. His face got wider and his jaw became square shaped giving him the typical looks of a dumb jock. He wondered why in the world we wouldn’t want to be one as he grabbed his phone to pull up his favorite porno, wanting nothing more than to try out his new equipment.

After finishing Ethan flopped onto the couch, his sweats still sticky. He absentmindedly scrolled through his phone, looking for another, maybe to watch with his bros. Speaking of his bros, Oz and Miles stood in the kitchenette shotgunning diet Pepsis. He shook his head in silent laughter at them before something poked against his thigh.

"Huh?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out the shriveled monkey's paw. "Yo, check this out."

Oz looked over from the mini fridge. "Dude... what the hell is that?"

Miles immediately sauntered over, eyes lighting up. "Bro, no way. Is that an actual monkey's paw?"

Ethan shrugged. "Found it somewhere, I think."

Oz carefully took it, turning it over in his hands. "This is sick."

"Isn't this one of those things that grants wishes?" Miles asked with a grin. "Like, three wishes and all that cursed magic crap?"

"Probably fake," Oz said, still unable to stop staring at it.

"Even if it is," Ethan laughed, "it's the coolest thing I've found all summer."

The three crowded around the tiny shriveled hand, tossing out increasingly ridiculous wishes and daring each other to try one, none of them realizing two of its fingers were already uncurled. Ethen looked at it, wondering what to wish for, then it hit him.

“I wish everybody here was as cool as us”

The wish had barely left Ethan's lips before the monkey's paw grew almost too hot to hold. He instinctively dropped it onto the couch, where it landed with a dull thud. For a moment, nothing happened. The cabin remained exactly as it was, with Oz and Miles still arguing over whether they could organize a volleyball tournament before dinner.

Then a strange sound rose somewhere outside, like a chant or cheer shouted in deep voices. It wasn't especially unusual at first. Campers were always yelling about something. But another voice answered it from farther down the path, then another from the lake, then several more from the athletic fields until the entire camp seemed to hum with too loud laughter and shouted conversations.

Across the grounds, subtle changes rippled through Camp Cedar Ridge. The campers transforming all at once, awkward postures straightening, Self-conscious expressions melting into easy confidence. Conversations about calorie counts and homesickness drifted naturally into plans for football games, lake competitions, and which cabin was going to dominate the end-of-summer tournament. Everywhere you looked, baseball caps had somehow become more common, camp T-shirts fit broader shoulders, and groups of boys who had barely spoken yesterday now greeted each other with effortless familiarity.

Even the camp itself seemed to adjust around them. The nutrition posters lining the dining hall walls quietly disappeared, replaced by faded championship photos and intramural banners that had hung there for years. The recreation lodge gained battered sweat stained couches and a pair of old refrigerators stocked with sports drinks, while the all of cabins gradually accumulated the sort of clutter that came from dozens of teenage frat boys sharing the same space, duffel bags left open, footballs under bunks, hoodies draped over chairs, protein bars scattered across countertops.

Bodybuilder legal huge counselors walked the paths smiling like it was normal, greeting campers with casual fist bumps instead of reminders about weigh-ins or meal plans. The schedule posted outside the dining hall had changed too. Hiking and nutrition seminars had quietly given way to tournaments, lake relays, and evening socials. 

Oz leaned against the doorway where Ethan stood and looked outside.

"Whatca looking at?" he asked.

Ethen looked at him, his thick brows scrunched up like he was trying to sort though his meager thoughts. "Just thought this place was…different, ya know,"

Miles laughed at this, shouting loudly from his place unto the fridge, “bro, it’s always been like this. Welcome to frat camp!”

A tall blonde guy wearing a holey hoodie and basketball shorts stopped at the steps of the boys cabin. He set down several cases of cheap beer and leaned against the railing, tossing a football up and down.

"Is this cabin six?" He asked. "Heard y’all was having a big party tonight."

"Yeah, bro come on in," Ethan replied, remembering him and Oz telling some of the other cabins to come around tonight.  

Word had seemed to spread on its own after that. As the sun dipped lower behind the trees, more boys drifted toward Cabin Six in small groups, some bringing snacks, others carrying speakers or folding chairs they had borrowed from somewhere. A camp wide party quickly forming, the cabin filling with conversation that spilled loudly out onto the porch and into the clearing beyond.

Watching everyone arrive, Ethan reached into his pocket and absentmindedly felt the monkey's paw. It had gone cold and when he pulled it out, all three fingers were tightly curled once more, looking like nothing more than an old, dried curiosity. He stared at it for a second before tossing it into the back of a drawer, where it disappeared beneath a pile of forgotten odds and ends. He had a rager to throw, this was frat camp after all.

(The next in the summerween series, inspired by a photo comic I saw. Also quick shot out to dmears1994 who suggested a similar idea(be careful what you wish for) more summery spooks to come, enjoy!)

[occamstfs]

Astroturfing

Four friends debate the latest gay dating app to hit the market. Four friends inevitably become walking advertisements for the very same app. Remember, What’s Good for the Gandr is Good for You!

Here's one for all you droney himbo fans! Average gay friend group into four Adonises literally molded to be the perfect men for Gandr’s supernaturally expanding user base. Hope you enjoy! -Occam

(L to R) Sven - Blaine - Clint - Guy

“It’s called Gandr! I’ve heard nothing but good things! Besides, I’ve been obsessed with the founder since he guest judged on Drag Race!” Clint held out his phone showing an ad for the newest dating app to hit the mobile store. “And it’s not even just for dating! It’s for the lifestyle!”

His friends are nonplussed. Swirling a drink in his hands, Blaine rolls his eyes. “Have you heard anything about it that wasn’t from an ad? I mean- Girl. Obviously it’s not made with guys like us in mind? Like, fuck look at those guy, they wouldn’t seven give Sven a second look unless it was to laugh at him!”

Clad in his usual deep v-neck and squinting at the screen, Sven shrugs in agreement before speaking up himself. “Dunno about this one Clint, something about it feels off? But you know me, I’m not really about apps and shit.”

Huddled around the phone in their favorite haunt, a lowkey gay bar-cum-brunch spot, the group continues bickering about their interest in reality star Chad Gleeson’s latest venture. Taking little part in the chatter, while his cohort debates whether or not this is a cash grab or a genuine attempt to build community online, Guy is simply staring blankly at the disembodied oiled up torsos still scrolling past on Clint’s phone. 

Quick to agree with Blaine’s appraisal that the four of them would certainly be less than popular on the app if this is the clientele, Guy certainly sees the benefit in downloading it for a constant stream of eye candy if nothing else. He’s halfway to drooling at dancing bodies when Clint turns the screen off, the debate apparently having come to a head without his input.

Blaine’s unsure if he’s arguing against the app for Clint’s own good or if he’s just jealous that his friend has the confidence to throw his hat into a ring of men who live in a different bracket of existence. Either way, he swears his friend is going to regret trying to sign up. “Look babe, I just don’t want you to be hurt or embarrassed if they don’t take your application to ‘join the Gandr’ or whatever the fuck their little tagline is.”

For the first time hearing anything of substance about this app, Guy shakes out of his horny stupor. “Ohh, so you need to be approved or something?”

Blaine and Clint respond at once, the former squinting in irritation while the latter nods peaceably. 

“Girl have you just been mindlessly ogling at those probably ai-generated PNGs??” 

“And agree to their terms and conditions, but you need to do that before literally going into, like, a Claire’s these days.”

Sven nods along sagely while nursing his second drink and the group devolve into their more standard shenanigans. Discussing board games, reality tv, and the ongoing petty grievances from their everyday jobs, no one watches as Clint taps away at his screen applying to make a profile on Gandr. 

When at last brunch ends and they go their separate ways, none are the wiser as Clint’s rushed application launches a series of events that are to land all of them slots on that app he’s so eager to join. The first of which goes to who else but himself. By the time he arrives home there is an invitation sitting in his inbox.

Clint Darwin thank you for your interest in Gandr! We can’t wait to like, share, and spread your profile! To finally join your fellow gay hunks in this online paradise there are only two final easy steps!

Ecstatic to be accepted and welcomed into an exclusive community alongside men so hot they boggle his mind, Clint agrees to the terms without giving them a second thought. Sure they can do whatever they want with his biometric data and obviously he’s more than happy to recommend three of his friends to join!

Typing each of his variably disinterested friend’s contact information into Gandr, Clint impatiently clicks more than a few boxes signing off on whatever the app asks of him as he rushes to finalize a profile. When he finally reaches that fabled grid where he can add the five or six expertly curated pictures of himself, he sits up straight and grins before a large error sign fills the screen.

We’re so excited to welcome you into the Gandr! Last thing’s last- Our expert team needs to make a few subtle changes so you can fit our desired user base. The better you fit in the more you can show everyone else what they’re missing out on! Remember: What’s good for the Gandr is good for you!

And so the second shoe falls. Self-confidence shot, Clint placidly assumes this is them calling him an uggo. It seems Blaine was right all along and the app is just going to take his application fee and leave him high and dry. Clint reassures himself that at least his friend won’t try to apply so Blaine won’t even know to rub this in his face. 

Reading the message again, his eyes latch onto the final motto: What’s good for the Gandr… Clint feels the tagline sink slightly more in to his wounded ego. What’s good for the Gandr. Wondering what ‘a few subtle changes’ even means or how the stupid app even knows what he looks like. Seconds away from closing the app, he believed in for good, his eyes shoot to a swirling loading symbol and half a second later, the screen flashes red.

Unblinkingly staring into the swirling symbol as a thin line scans his face from chin to thinning hairline, the doubt he had of Gandr only seconds ago is forcefully yanked from his mind. How could he ever doubt the app! It wants what’s best for him and he it. When at last his vision recovers from the blinding scarlet light, he sees a small little animation of Gandr’s founder giving him a thumbs up.

Smiling at the chibi man, Clint doesn’t even read the short message explaining the process he is about to undergo to more align with Gandr’s mission. Instead he sees the screen refresh to a profile already fully made and filled with pictures of an almost impossibly buff young man. Perhaps a decade younger than the pushing late 30’s Clint, the man prepares to scroll away and find someone more fitting for his lifestyle before he realizes his name is attached to the profile.

Clint Darwin

Cooper D.

Yeah. Yeah that’s his name. But, that’s not a picture of him, is it?

Slightly woozy as a few of Gandr’s catchier mantras begin to trickle into his mind, Cli Cooper tries to shake off the stupor and nearly falls over. Leaning onto his kitchen counter, the delirious man struggles to pull himself onto a kitchen stool.

“Man… When did it get so, uhh, hot in here?” Reaching to fan his shirt, Coop suddenly realizes how heavy his arms are as even the slightest movement feels like he’s lifting weights heavier than he can conceive. Every twitch is a workout as he tries to wipe sweat from his forehead before it can run down into his stubble. Furrowing his brows, unaware as they begin to bleach and lighten, Cooper’s confused to find his facial hair thinning. Would’ve sworn he had a full beard?

Looking to a mirror he stationed in the corner of his studio for fit checks, Cooper watches as the last of his scraggly beard is sucked into his jawline as his skin tightens and shifts rosier. Lips plumping as his surly brown eyes speckle green like seafoam, Coop can’t help but smile as his dark brown hair starts to bleach into the sunday blonde of a man who lives at the beach.

“God I look good~” 

His smile continues to widen as his mind asserts ‘of course I do! Everyone on Gandr is a stud.’ And then he begins to grow. Still clad in the cardigan he went to the bar in, the stitches soon strain as his arms lengthen before beginning to bulk. Bicpes the same size as his needly forearms balloon into meaty weapons earned from countless sessions at the gym.

Seams tear at the first sign of Cooper’s bloating body, buttons begin to fly off his cardigan as his upper body expands into that of a man whose sole concern is looking hot. Feeling the discomfort of fabric holding him back he attempts to wield his bulging arms to remove what is now more scraps of fabric than clothing. Even beginning this movement tears the rest of his shirt to ribbons. 

Freed to the air in spite of his pathetic attempts, two massive pecs burst onto his chest as rows of perfect abs pound onto his torso below them. Back widening as his waist tapers into a figure that will always cause needy men to double take, Cooper rubs his sweaty abs and chest as his previously scratchy hair softens into little more than a few blonde curls that may as well leave him hairless.

His hands crack wider as they follow his changes down. Suddenly able for his much larger feet to rest on the floor while sitting on the high stool, his longer legs bloat into heavy thighs as the package in between them throbs into a rod that a jock top like him demands. More rips tear into his skintight pants, leaving a handful of alluring holes for his tasty thighs to catch eyes.

All the while, in between hungrily watching and feeling the power and beauty amassing in his new body, Cooper’s mind has been pushing Gandr’s mission and ideals more to the forefront. Hobbies and work that once belonged to a bygone man are simply washed away so that Cooper may throw himself into recruiting more men to join him on the platform. 

After all, who wouldn’t want to be here with a man like him.

Posing in the mirror, what was once just a subconscious desire to get more men on Gandr becomes his driving purpose. Even as Cooper feels his cock throb while flexing his new massive bicep, he knows he would feel even better if he had his gang with him. He needs to usher them into what is going to be the best place for gay men on the internet. In the world.

● ●

While Sven and Blaine may be trickier marks, Guy is an incredibly easy sell. Having received the preliminary invite from Clint’s invitation, Guy was already scrolling through the promo material himself, eyes thirstily taking in every shirtless man thrown his way. Though, even he was hesitant to make a profile as he’s not overeager to beef up his left-swiped statline.

No, he’s happy to just be a lech from the outside. At least that's what he tells himself. Each new sexy hunk chips away more at his resolve. It wouldn't be so bad would it? To be a Gandr Man. But he- He doesn’t really want to be on a dating app. Gandr’s not a dating app. It’s for everything. It is everything. It’s just a place for men like him.

“Oh shit.” Shaking free from his stupor, unwilling to acknowledge the strange almost-ads playing in his mind, Guy looks up to see his bus peeling away. The idea of decency finally returns to the man as he stands to just walk home, adjusting his pants to hide that he has a semi from gawking at men.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, he tells himself. They submitted these pics to be used in advertising, they want to be looked at. Shoot he would too if he looked like them. You can look like them, you just need to join. This sends a shiver up his spine, he remembers all these studies about subliminal messaging from way back in undergrad. Must be something like that. Pupils quiver as he wonders if he even minds.

Swearing to himself that he’s written off the idea together, his surely impenetrable self-control immediately crumbles when he gets a text from Coop. Guy double takes at the name, feeling like it should be in his phone as something else. Cooper probably? The slight confusion pales in comparison to the message sent

Accompanying a brief text asking that he go ahead and join is a picture of Coop that Guy can’t help but drool at. The shreds of memory of the man who existed before Cooper are blasted away along with whatever hesitation remained as he stares at his friend’s massive thighs and an upper body so built it can’t just be natural.

He’s been right by his friend’s side as he built that killer bod though! All the while building up his own so he can show off and get some with his sq- uh? Guy takes a beat to look at his unimpressive body and is confused why he thought he had a body anywhere nearly as impressive as Cooper’s. All he needs to do is sign up.

Making sure he’s walking in the vague direction of home, Guy returns to his phone to sign up only to find he has already clicked the link sent by Coop and is well on his way to being a Gandr Man. Scrolling past walls of text including diversity statements and waiving application fees for AAPI applicants, Guy clicks every agreement without a beat; As if his hands already knew exactly where every dotted line was.

Before he rounds the block, Guy is already well on his way to being just like the countless men on Gandr he’s been obsessing over. Agreeing to help create promotional material and for them to algorithmically create the perfect profile for him, Guy submits his application and is immediately approved. Seeing the confirmation, he feels a tickle in his chest that he at first mistakes for his usual anxiety.

Brimming with excitement at the idea of meeting his perfect partner and joining a crew of like-minded (more importantly, like-bodied) men, Guy doesn’t notice as his attention is drawn to a loading symbol that fills his mind with algorithmic tricks and the perfect strategies for getting ahead on social media. Head suddenly heavy with far more knowledge about soliciting clicks with a body he doesn’t have yet, Guy’s too absorbed in planning his upcoming deals as his hair lengthens into a dark, trendy middle-part befitting a younger man.

With a twitch his whole head compacts for a far twunkier effect as his baby-blue eyes stain to a shade as dark as the black screen in his hands. The discomfort in his chest only continues to rise as two heavy pecs begin to bounce with every clumsy step homeward. Soon enough he feels two pert nipples, dragging uncomfortable against his shirt.

Need to get a pump on for some pics. No question in his mind, Guy Samlain starts jogging down the street. Hair retracts on his forearms as they brown and glisten under the afternoon sun. So too does his chest begin to tan with his splotchy new skintone as his pecs bulk large enough to pop off a few buttons.

Feeling his hitherto heavy gut tighten and smooth with every strutting step onward, Samlain smirks as he imagines how hot he’s going to look on the profile Gandr makes for him. Getting a little too excited about all the men he’s going to convince to join him on the app, he needs to adjust his gait as his little Samlain starts to help hold up sweatpants starting to sag on his thinner waist. 

Panting as he sweats through his shirt, it’s not long before he realizes there’s no need to be wearing one at all. As he yanks it off and bares his muscled up new body, Samlain grins as immediately he starts catching eyes. Reaching up to tousle his hair he realizes he should be catching this on camera for the app!

Setting up his phone on a tripod, like he’s done so a million times, Sam feels his sweaty pits scratch between his bulging biceps and bouncing chest. It’s the only place body hair remains on him and he’s gotta show it off, Gandr knows what its users want and all. 

Sam steps back and plays with his hair again, expertly performing cutesy twunk realness despite every move being carefully calculated and controlled. He can practically see the men frothing at their mouths as he tilts his head and plays with his pec. Knowing it’s not long at all before his oversized underwear falls to his feet, Samlain finishes his journey home and takes a quick selfie to send to Blaine. Gonna be all hands on deck to convince that whiny stick in the mud to give in.

● ● ●

Only a few blocks away, Sven is sobering up from their sloppy brunch before a quick shift at a plant shop down towards the beach. Sun shining on his still merry face, the man doesn’t even notice the first few notifications sent to him by Gandr and the man formerly known as Clint.

No, happy-go-lucky as he always is, Sven simply enjoys the morning and reflects over the more pleasant conversations from the time with his boys. For obvious reasons this does not include even a moment of their chat about Grando or whatever that dating app was. At least, not until he sees a massive poster for the platform being actively pasted onto a wall. 

Taking a breather to inspect it and relearn that the app is apparently named Gandr, Sven is shocked to see Cl- Cooper’s familiar, gleaming smile looking down at him. He doesn’t know how his paper teeth can even look so shiny. Snapping a pic, for a moment he thinks Cooper looks far more musclebound than he usually is and starts to excitedly text that he saw his in an ad.

But then he remembers just how commonplace it is for him to see Cooper or, uh, Samlain when he’s scrolling or walking the pier. As the thought strikes him Sven sees a similar poster of Sam going up. Scratching his exposed chest as he frowns slightly, Sven deletes his half-typed message and at last finds the texted invite from Coop.

Well shoot, it would be rude not to check out his friend’s whole thing. He’s gotten them to show up countless times to buy pothos or succulents or whatever plant he accidentally over-ordered. And he’s just a clerk! Obviously Coop must be way more involved in Gandr, why else would he be so obsessed with pushing it. Constantly explaining their goals and quoting metrics. It’s so annoy-

“Ah… That’s not very nice…” Sven mutters to no one as he guilt trips himself into starting an application for a dating app he assumes he’s never going to open again. As if he were atoning for this slightest slight, Sven continues down the same digital road oh so recently travelled by his dear friends.

Decidedly the least online of their little coterie, Sven okays the first few boxes before stowing his phone. His intent to join has been taken by Gandr however, and this is more than enough to begin the grand work of user assimilation onboarding! 

There’s a shiver down Sven’s spine as he is struck a little woozy. Taking it in stride the beanpole of a man shakes off a slight headache as the closer he gets to work, the closer he finds himself to the earth. Powering through a tightness in his back greater than he felt even after his most intense and draining days from his time as a younger athlete, Sven stretches and staves off overwhelming pressure in his limbs.

Memories flit through his mind of having a group, a crew far larger than that he has now. As his back compresses and his long legs thicken from the sheer half a foot in height lost, the weight quickly shifts upward towards his ass, never a muscle-group favored by the friendly top, causing it to thicken into his main attraction. 

Bared to the world, Sveb’s messy patch of chest hair begins to retract into a chest bulking as it bronzes from the afternoon sun. Still blearily stamping towards work as his pants fall over his feet. Sveb- Sveb? Seb starts sweating up a storm, causing his short hair to sag with sweat over his forehead as it darkens and curls into a look far less intentional than he usually prefers.

Shaking his curls as his woozy headache begins to give way to a contented delirium, his lips twitch into a grin as his permanently clean-shaven upper lip darkens with peach fuzz. When it immediately thickens into a trendy mustache, his smile widens further to show off his gleaming pearly whites. 

V-neck halfway to exposing his toned abs, Seb takes it off and just stows it in his back pocket as he nonchalantly course corrects to head towards the beach rather than work. Full upper body now exposed to the world, Seb pays no mind to all the aimless eyes caught by his aesthetically maintained body.

None of his body hair remains save two mandatory patches in his pits and his newly paltry happy trail. The latter of which he fingers mindlessly as he steps onto the sand and feels at home. And with every physical change Gandr’s mission sinks in deeper, hiding just out of conscious thought, eager for its newest vector to begin his unique work. 

Emanating an aura of thoughtless friendliness, it’s not long before the shirtless man is approached by a couple and offered some trunks to replace his jeans. Headily agreeing, Seb has no modesty at all as he changes then and there, paying only the slightest effort to make sure his loose briefs stay on in the in between.

No modesty in sight, part of him is unaware as the pair of friendly beachgoers blush at his exposed ass and trimmed pubes. Performatively stretching as he feels the trunks hang, some previously hidden aspect of him sees an opportunity to strike “L- let’s get a pic bros!” The words fall from his lips as he throws an arm around one of them and awaits the other to snap a picture of him and his new friends.

So too does his tongue spill out of his mouth like it never has, as if he’s panting like a dog, Seb flirtily smiles and awaits the snap. This is what it’s all about, building community. Community. Helping Gandr Grow. His hand trails down the back of his new friend as his eyes shift far sharper. Still maintaining the effortless appeal of a beach bro, one seemingly focus grouped to lower defenses, Seb sinks his teeth in to do his favorite brand’s dirty work.

“Heyyy, you guys know what? Have you heard of Gandr?” His other hand moves to the back of the other’s neck where he playfully draws circles on his soon-to-be cohorts traps. Both men await his explanation with hunger. Shit this Gandr stuff is just too easy! Feeling his attention span waning, Gandr’s newest ambassador quickly does his plug before getting back to doing this the proper way, being a walking advertisement for the greatest social media app there’s ever been.

● ● ● ●

Elsewhere Blaine is fed up. Anywhere he turns there just seems to be more ads for that shitty app Connor wouldn’t shut up about. His eye twitches as he thinks of his friend, something feels off but he hasn’t the toolkit to even begin to unpack what. Since breakfast he’s received so many texts and DM’s from the ass suggesting he chill out and just give it a try that he’s ignoring the man all together.

This leaves Connor’s tried and true tactic of thirst trapping his friend onto the app of little use as by the time he sends his first selfie Blaine has already muted his friend’s number. He’ll check back in with Connor when the jerk’s done shilling for that stupid shitty app. Like the world needs another platform for conventionally attractive gym-gays to hold themselves as the pinacle of queerdom. 

Scowling as he sits in the dark at his desk, Blaine reflects over their time at lunch wondering if he might be acting a tad too dramatic. But when he thinks back now his friends were even more adamant about the app than he had thought. Even Sven- er, Seb and Sam were all about it.

“C’mon bro, it’s such a sweet gig! Just hop on and hang at the beach with me~ Gandr just wants to spread good vibes~”

“You’ve always wanted to be a smokeshow right B-babe?”

Refrains of their arguments bounce through his mind to a point it’s almost difficult for him not to start agreeing. But, powering through, Blaine shakes them off and rolls his eyes, “Multi-level marking dating app bullshit… An MLM MLM heh.” 

Letting his guard ever so slightly down as he chuffs at his own joke, Blaine finds no harm in checking just to see what his friends are spamming him with. It’s not like there’s any harm in reading their messages, he’s not some paranoid maniac. They’re just text messages. When he at last grabs his cell however, he finds a video call ringing from Sam. Maybe Samlain has already realized the error of his ways! Assuming as much, Blaine smiles to himself and picks up.

The self-satisfied grin immediately falls to open-mouthed shock as his eyes can’t help but stare hungrily at his friend’s bouncing pecs. Atop rows of abs twitching with his slow breath, his chest is a bulky capstone that almost causes Blaine to drool. Playfully grinning himself as he watches any higher thought vacate Blaine’s head, Sam at last speaks up.

“Yo! Seems like you’re just about on board huh? Gandr’s happy to have you little buddy, just gotta accept and you can finally reach your pinnacle. Help the Gandr Grow.”

The words send a throbbing pang through Blaine’s chest as stray thoughts of ‘how bad could it be’ and ‘could he really get a body like that?’ rise in volume. Then his eyes drift to find the cocky smirk on Sam’s face and he scoffs. “Ugh fuck off! I’m not going to sell-out just because you flexed your pecs at me you ass!”

“Soooo..? This doesn’t turn you on then?”

With a grunt Blaine tosses his phone to the floor and walks away, unaware of the quick-track application sent by the man who did indeed turn him on. Eager for a distraction to get his semi the rest of the way down, a knock at the door provides just that. Or it would have, had yet another shirtless friend not been awaiting him on the other side. 

Traipsing into Blaine’s home as soon as the door cracks open, smelling of sex and the beach, Sebastian stretches as he looks around Blaine’s place. “Heyyy babe, feel like it’s been forever!”

“It’s been maybe 6 hours, Seb.”

Looking into the middle distance, Seb starts to think back to six hours ago and gets too bored by the prospect. Shrugging as he instead searches for the perfect light in Blaine’s apartment to highlight his figure, the sunkissed Seb posts up in a doorway and tries to do what he does best.

“You seem out of it B? Something up?”

Clenching his jaw, Blaine tries to make any sense of his situation. Seb is his friend. Seb has always been his friend. Why shouldn’t he trust Seb? God. Seb is so fucking hot. 

“You need a hug Blaine?”

Before the man answers Seb already has his arms around him. Body as warm as the midday sun, Blaine’s breath catches in his throat as he smells the heady dried sweat on Seb’s neck. The hunk’s defined arms hugging his thin back. It feels so right to be held by him. He needs this. He needs to hold others just like this. Hesitantly reaching around, Blaine feels Seb’s burning back, the individual muscles twitching as he can only imagine the man’s strength. He feels his friend’s breath on his shoulder, the scratch of his mustache and the soft kiss of his lips. Seb turns his head to whisper in his ears, “Do you really not want this B?”

Irises twitch in his eyes as he tries to think of any reason to not want this. To not want to offer this to others. To not give in.

“I- Of course I want to join Seb!? I-”

Confirming verbal contract. Welcome aboard Blaze J. Thank you for aiding Gandr’s Diversity objectives and remember. What’s good for the Gandr is good for you!

“I no- Thas not my…” he tries to push free from Seb’s arms but his captor hugs him even tighter, bleary smile on his face. Shaking his head, the man who can already only think of himself as Blaze puts everything he’s got into escaping what was moments ago a friendly hug.

Everything within him strains as he pushes. Blaze’s weary arms burn as his chest twitches with muscle awakening. Eyes forced shut to focus on escape, Blaze opens them to find himself suddenly looking down at a peacefully smiling Seb. Shaking his head in shock, he then shoves Seb away with ease and looks down at his hands.

He can see bones twitching underneath his skin as his forearms tighten and the span of his hands cracks wider. The buttons on his polo pop off as his pecs put on weight at an unfathomable rate. Nipples immediately showing through his shirt as his chest grows with every shaky breath, he moves to feel the muscle and hears his sleeves tear from the slightest movement of biceps bloating into serious weapons.

Sitting nearby, Seb just watches as Blaze’s blond hair begins to darken and curl. Sideburns that never even grew thick enough to be considered peach fuzz race down his cheeks as a stubbly goatee circles his puffier lips. Seb playfully bites his own lip as the newest Gandr  user’s shirt suctions against his growing body, his fuzzy treasure trail exposed as his adonis’ belt firms to a degree almost inhuman.

Catching a glance of his own reflection, Blaze can’t believe it, he looks like a model. Like a statue of some divinity. His pale skin begins to speckle darker as his lips continue to plump and his vaguely chubby cheeks sharpen. His foppish updo tightens into a fade as the whole of his lower face is covered with perfectly trimmed stubble that will never leave his face again. 

Wandering to his nearest mirror, the effort of moving tears away what remains of his shirt as his chest and shoulders stretch wide enough that they could never be contained. Neck thick with amassing strength joined by traps and an athletic wingspan to support it, when Blaze at last sees his full sexy new self, he can do nothing but smile. 

He is a Gandr man. Why did he ever foolishly resist? 

Flexing his bicep just to see how high it peaks, for the first time in his life Blaze sees the world as an Alpha does. What sense is there fighting against natural order? Thick fingers trail down his abs carved from stone as his pants struggle to contain a heavy package growing ever-larger. 

His legs struggle to put on mass as he keeps inching taller, drinking in his reflection as he stares at individual strands of muscle dancing across his veiny arms and curl-speckled chest. Stepping back to gauge Seb’s reaction he already knows his friend will be all about his new look. His eye twitches at the idea, guess he has a pump from the gym but otherwise he’s always looked like a king. Like the stud he is.

Putting on a show and flexing for Seb he watches as his friend gets visibly more excited, pants a size or two small do quite a poor job hiding one’s erection and all, Blaze delights in his first of many partners on Gandr. Pouncing, when the pair begin making out Blaze’s mind fills with all the proprietary knowledge that every Gandr man needs to perform his mission. 

To ensure everyone finds what they're looking for. To grow their user base and show any detractors what they’re missing. To have the time of their lives just as Gandr’s founder envisioned. If perfection is on the table is it not the only right thing to do to spread it as far and wide as possible. Blaze certainly agrees.

Within a day Blaze is on his own beat working to show every gay man what he’s missing out on. Newfound strength and impossible need guiding him like a carrot on a stick, Blaze lures a too-critical influencer home and easily finds his way into the bedroom.

“You know you’re missing out, Hal. You could have all this, just need to say the word.” The twink even whinier than he was but a week ago stares at Blaze’s beyond muscular body, honed for this and this alone. Rationalizing begins to give way to unadulterated lust as he sees the Gandr man’s thick eyebrows raise. 

It’s just a quick fuck, he’s slept with worse. Is he above a man putting out for some beyond bizarre brand activation? Why the fuck should he be!? Look at him. Harder than he’s been in years staring at the fuzzy cleft between Blaze’s prodigious, bouncing pecs, Hal feels any scruples just melt away. 

Somehow knowing he’s agreed, Blaze walks over and straddles him in bed. Mouth hanging open with need,showing his perfect gleaming teeth above traps thicker than any lesser man’s shoulders. Sticking out his tongue ever so slightly, he raises his head and looks down. “Just need to say the magic words and then you’re all mine.”

Raspy voice like a siren to his ears, Hal would say anything to get this man on top of him. “Please God, whatever you want! I’ll do it!” Blaze smiles down as another job well done begins to form, and now he’s to enjoy his own handiwork as Gandr’s new world grows ever wider. 

[lilbabyprince]

[mind-wiper]

Finals were a week away and Matt was beginning to realise he’d made a mistake spending all those nights hanging out playing poker, watching movies when he should have been studying.  He couldn’t afford more bad grades or his parents would be very angry.  Who wants to deal with that shit? Nope, it was time to pull a few massive all-nighters and cram like crazy.  

The first night Matt downed a couple energy drinks and kept a steady supply of coffee on hand to keep him up and focused. Unfortunately that left him pretty jittery and absolutely wiped out the next morning. It was pretty obvious he wouldn’t be able to do that again without making himself very sick.  But there was another solution, his room-mate, Josh. 

“C’mon man, just a few Adderall to get me through to finals,” he begged. “I know you have plenty to spare and I can pay you pretty well.”  

Josh looked at Matt with absolute disgust. “I have those pills because I need them, not to be a drug dealer,” he told him briskly. 

“Oh come on!” Matt begged. When he found out his room-mate had ADHD he’s immediately thought, jackpot! Weren’t hyper kids supposed to be impulsive and easily led? Well Josh may have been a fidgety speed-talker but he sure wasn’t a push-over. Kid had absolutely refused to sell a single one of his pills. As far as Matt was concerned the guy had no entrepreneurial spirit. 

“The answer, as always, is no Matt.”  

“If I fail these exams my parents will kill me. You’d be doing me a solid, no one would ever know and I’d owe you, big time.” 

Josh frowned but at least seemed to be considering it. Finally he said, “Okay, I’m not selling you my Adderall, that’s a schedule B controlled drug and we’d both get jail time if anyone found out…” 

“But…” Matt urged. 

“But my doctor did just prescribe me a new medication, one that is supposed to really help improve focus without the danger of addiction amphetamines carry. But it is still a bit experimental…”

Matt didn’t care about the rest, all he needed to know was it improved focus. If it could make a twitchy kid like Josh sit still and study it would surely make him into a cramming machine.

“Thanks so much dude!” Matt gushed. 

Josh nodded, retrieving a pill bottle. “It’s called Avertomin. The starting dose is 10 mg twice a day. The side effects to watch out for…” Josh began, pulling out an information sheet. 

“I’ll look it up myself, don’t worry,” Matt assured, holding out his hand. 

“Don’t take more than 20 mg a day,” Josh warned, handing him the bottle. 

“You have my word,” Matt promised. 

**

After dinner Matt secluded himself in his bedroom, books laid out before him. He grabbed the little bottle of pills and downed two 10 mg ones at once. There was no time to build up to a therapeutic dose with exams this close. Now it was time to cram. 

Half an hour later Matt felt the meds kicking in. A sort of giddy elation settled over him and the whole room seemed to grow crisper, brighter. Time itself appeared to slow down as the pleasant sensation built into a full euphoric high. Wow, this was some gooood shit! Matt made a note to remember to take some more when he didn’t need to study. This would be awesome at a party. 

For the next six hours Matt sped through his books. The outside world ceased to exist and his brain felt like a sponge absorbing every word perfectly. Then it began to wear off. He could feel the euphoria slipping away, the world losing its shininess. And then came a wave of fatigue, of absolute exhaustion. Matt yawned loudly, putting down his book and leaning back. He needed to rest his eyes for a moment. Just for a few minutes. He was asleep almost instantly.  

When Matt woke up it was morning.  He had class in an hour and he felt really strange. He wasn’t exhausted like the morning after his coffee binge. No, he felt well rested, refreshed. But his head felt foggy, felt spacey. He couldn’t shake the sensation as he got dressed, got ready for class.  

It was like internal thoughts kept interrupting him, kept distracting him from what he was meant to be doing. Next thing he knew he was already running late for class. He hurried out the door, then realised he’d left his notebook and pens sitting on his desk, so had to rush all the way back to get them. 

It was embarrassing getting to class late, making people stand up so he could get to one of the empty seats at the centre of the lecture theatre.  Matt was always on time to classes, to important things. But not today.  And once he was seated things only got worse. The lecture wasn’t particularly boring but other thoughts kept popping into Matt’s head and suddenly he’d realise he missed the last minute or two of the professor’s notes.  It was very annoying. 

That wasn’t the only issue though. He felt really restless, like he’d had way too much coffee. The harder he tried to concentrate on the lecture the more intense the sensation became. He was actually starting to feel anxious, like he physically needed to stand up and walk around a bit, but he couldn’t. He was trapped in the middle. He could feel every movement of people in his row, it made him dizzy, like his senses were all turned up to eleven. 

The guy next to him suddenly gave him a nasty look. For a moment he was confused, then he realised his knee was bouncing up and down furiously, knocking against the desk and he’d been clicking the end of his pen against his notebook over and over. In fact others were glancing at him too now. Ugh. 

Matt managed to stop fidgeting, though that made his internal thoughts only rush faster. He gave up on listening to the lecturer, instead rifling through his bag, looking for the fact sheet Josh had given him the day before. Mercifully he found it amidst the mess of what was normally a well organised bag. 

At first nothing much jumped out at him under side effects. Dry mouth, headaches, nausea, tachycardia, hypertension, all the normal stuff. But then came the one he feared, “Increased symptoms between doses.”  

Fuck. The pills were basically giving him ADHD. It had to be temporary of course, but how long would it last? If this didn’t wear off soon he’d really be screwed for the exams. But it only said increased symptoms between doses, so that meant there was still hope. Should he risk it? What a choice. 

Sitting on his bed that evening Matt contemplated the pill bottle. The last few hours had been shit. He gave up on hanging out with his friends on campus because he kept tuning out in mid-conversation when they were talking, then jumping in to finish their sentences to get to the point, so he could talk. He knew it was rude, it was annoying as hell, and he couldn’t stop doing it. He had to leave before he lost his friends.  

He’d tried just going home and watching a movie to unwind, to calm down. It turned out to be torturous to try to sit through a movie, made him even more wound up until he gave it up halfway through.   

It was obvious the symptoms were not lessening. There was only two paths from here. Accept likely failure this term and hope the side effects went away with time, or double down, pass this semester and use the term break to detox. 

Matt popped two more pills, glad the decision was made. Half an hour later he felt the twitchy sensation subside, his thoughts calm down, focus returning.  But there was no euphoria, no super-focus. He just felt normal again, like he’d never taken the pills. And that just wouldn’t do. Matt popped two more. 

His body soon felt warm and wonderful.The time slowed down and his brain was once again a sponge. This time eight hours passed in a flash as Matt studied like never before. It was amazing.  And then came the crash. It hit harder and faster than last time. A wave of sleepiness from out of nowhere and Matt basically slumped back on his bed and passed out, pen still in his hand. 

**

Matt awoke to two very strange sensations. One was cool, clammy wetness in his bed, the other was that something was in his mouth.  Opening his bleary eyes Matt looked cross-eyed down at the thumb jammed between his lips. What was that doing there? And why was he still suckling on it? He knew that he shouldn’t be, that only babies sucked their thumbs, and yet, it made him feel better, made him feel safe. 

He sat up in bed, thumb still in his mouth, looking down at his shorts, stained dark all around the crotch, his notebook, left lying on the bed next to him, now also soggy, the ink runny.  

Matt frowned around his thumb and suckled harder as he grew nervous. Something was very wrong. He knew that. But he couldn’t exactly explain it, even in his own head. He’d done tinkles, that was clear. And babies made tinkles in the bed. But he wasn’t a baby, was he?  No, he was clearly much too big and old. He was… he was…. Matt sobbed quietly as he found he couldn’t recall his age. 

Matt tried to think of other numbers. He looked down at his free hand and thought, one, two, three, four and five.  He couldn’t take out his thumb, he needed it more than ever. So he looked down at his toes instead, wiggling free on his feeties. He counted them: six, seven, eight, nine, ten…. What came after ten? Matt’s stomach flip-flopped as he drew a blank. 

He got up out of the bed, trying to sort out what he needed to do. In his fuzzy head one thought won out. He had to go to class. Yes, he went to school. He was a big school boy. But he needed to change first. He couldn’t go in icky wet shorts and undies like a baby. 

Matt opened his closet, expecting to find a school uniform. But there wasn’t one. He frowned around his thumb again. He wanted a big boy uniform! He wanted to stamp his feet, he was so angry. But that was a baby thing to do. He peeled off his icky wet clothes instead. He was good at getting undressed. He wanted to go show someone, show how good he was at taking his clothes off. 

Matt charged buck naked out into the kitchen and living area their bedrooms adjoined, his pee-pee jiggling about nice and free. But Josh wasn’t home to see. That was okay, he’d tell him later. Now he had to get dressed. 

His clothes were all so boring, but he had no choice. Matt put on a simple t-shirt, some plain undies and board shorts. He packed some books into his school bag and put in on too. He smiled with pride. He felt so big with his bag on, going to school. It was like Elmo in the book Mummy used to read him when he was just little. 

He stopped at the door to put his sneakers on. But which one went on which foot? He tried one and it was very uncomfortable, very ouchy. He tried it on the other and it fit. Why hadn’t he realised that? Shoes were confusing. But there was only one left now. That fit his other foot just fine. And out the door he went. 

It wasn’t usually a long walk to school, but today was different. There were big trucks driving by on the road and Matt stopped to wave at them all. Then he noticed a beetle on the footpath and he dropped down to his knees to study it, to poke at it. That was funny! 

But not everything on the walk was fun. His shoes were very uncomfortable because he’d forgot to put socks on with them. Then he tripped on the untied laces and got a boo-boo on his hand from landing on the footpath. Even though he was a big boy Matt couldn’t help but cry. It really hurt! And there was a little blood and Mummy wasn’t here to kiss it better! 

Other grown-ups just walked past him while he cried, avoiding eye-contact. He tried to show one nice looking lady his boo-boo, held his hand up and told her, “Id huwts!” But she just passed him by, walking faster. 

Finally he dried his tears and yanked off his stupid shoes, throwing them away into the bushes. He hated the dumb shoes for making his hand ouchy. Then he was back on his way and feeling much more comfy. The footpath was actually nice under his bare feet now and he even started to skip and run a bit, forgetting all about his boo-boo. 

But then he reached another obstacle. He needed to cross the street. Matt’s heart-rate ticked upwards and he began to suck on his thumb again to calm himself. He just knew he wasn’t meant to cross the street all by himself. That was dangerous, and naughty. 

He stood at the crossing, watching the green man blink on and grown-ups cross both ways. But he didn’t budge. He couldn’t, it was too scary with all the vroom-vroom cars zooming about. He started to tear up and sniffle again. All was lost, he’d never get to school. He was too little after all. 

A warm hand touched him lightly on the arm and he looked over to see a concerned looking woman with dark black hair.  

“Are you okay dear? Are you lost?” she asked, noting his thumb-sucking, his glassy eyes and bare feet. 

He shook his head. “Not wost. Can’t cwoss da woad,” he explained. Why was it so hard? His tongue felt all heavy. 

“Why not?” she asked kindly. 

“Need a gwown-up to cwoss,” he told her. 

She smiled now. “Well, would you like my help?” she offered, reaching out her open hand. 

Matt felt instant relief, taking her hand and nodding. When the green man flashed again Matt let the lady guide him across the street with the other big people.  On the other side he even remembered to say, “Tank you!”  

“No problem sweetie,” she assured him. “But where are you going now? Do you know?” 

“Uh-huh! Bambawy Hawll,” he announced. 

“Bramburry Hall,” she translated. “And you know the way?” 

“Yeth!”

“Okay, but be careful you don’t hurt your feet. There’s a lot of glass around,” she warned. 

Matt nodded seriously. “I will. Shoes was ouchy,” he explained. 

She smiled. “I understand, my little brother is the same way, walks barefoot to school every morning. Just watch where you walk.”  

Matt nodded and hurried on, careful to follow her advise. He didn’t get any more boo-boos and made it to the lecture only a little bit later than yesterday. 

Once there though he wasn’t sure what to do. The professor was writing stuff on the board and Matt didn’t understand any of it. None of the symbols even made sense to him. He pulled out the text book he’d brought, opening it up to a random page like the other students seemed to have done. He got out a pen, gripped in his fist and, feeling bored, began scribbling drawings in the book, swinging his legs back and forth so the carpet brushed his bare soles. 

He didn’t even notice when the class ended, he was too busy drawing and once again sucking his thumb.   

“It’s Matt isn’t it?” 

Matt looked up from his scribbles to see the professor looking down at him with deep concern. Was he in trouble? Matt felt instantly worried, but nodded in answer to the question.  

“Are you feeling okay mate?” the older man asked. 

Matt sucked harder on his thumb, squirming. “I dwawed dat,” he answered, pointing to the wild scribbles all over the text book page. 

**

The campus health clinic was busy and Matt had been left alone since the professor man brought him here. The lady behind the big desk gave him a lolly and some paper and crayons and he sat on the floor in the corner of the big waiting room scribbling and then playing with some of the toys they had in a big box. There weren’t too many, really they were just there to entertain the little children of some of the older students while they waited.  But it was better than nothing. 

Finally a hand on Matt’s shoulder got his attention and he looked up to see Josh was there, smiling down at him. “Hey mate, you feeling a bit silly now, eh?” he asked. 

Matt blinked in confusion, then held up the toy truck he was playing with. “They got twucks,” he explained simply. 

“That’s nice,” Josh replied, smiling. “How about we get you home now?” 

That sounded really good. “Uh-huh! I hungwy,” he complained, rubbing his tummy. He’d totally forgotten to eat anything that morning. 

“Well, we’ll fix that, don’t you worry,” Josh assured. 

They got up and Matt was glad to have Josh take his hand, take charge. It felt so much better to know a grown-up was in charge.  

“I’m sorry, but you can’t be leaving with him yet, the doctor hasn’t seen him,” the nurse at the desk warned as they began to leave. 

“Oh, so sorry to bother you like this. Matt’s pledging Kappa Alpha Theta and they made him do this stupid stunt. But obviously it’s gone too far and we’ve wasted enough of your time,” Josh explained. 

Matt didn’t understand a word of it, and he didn’t like the cross look the nurse got either, so he sucked harder on his thumb and looked at his toes. 

“Ugh, fine, get him out of here then. I’ve had all I can take of these stupid hazing rituals.” 

Once they’d left the clinic Josh muttered, “That was easier than I expected.”

“What’s hazing?” Matt asked. 

“Nothing you need to worry about buddy,” Josh assured. “So what happened to your shoes?” 

“Threw ‘em away. They was stupid,” Matt explained. 

Josh laughed. “Okay, nothing wrong with a barefoot little boy I guess.” 

“I’m a big boy!” Matt insisted. 

“Course you are dude, I didn’t mean to call you little,” Josh apologised. 

Matt smiled with vindication, letting the man lead him back across campus by the hand.  

**

Back at home Josh went to work preparing some dinner. Matt was glad, he was very hungry. But in the meantime he went to play more in his room. He didn’t have many toys though. Why not? Why so much boring adult stuff? He looked at a photo of him on the wall, of him on holiday in Europe, on his own, all grown up. 

And it hit him that he was a grown-up, same as Josh. In fact he was supposed to be smarter than Josh wasn’t he? Yeah, Josh was all hyper and struggled in school. Matt was a smart kid, he got good grades when he actually studied. So why was he walking around barefoot and sucking his thumb and letting Josh be in charge? He was acting dumb! 

Matt noticed the pill bottle on the desk. Those were the smart pills. They made him extra super smart. He needed to take more so he could be smart again! He took the bottle and tapped out a handful of pills. How many? He didn’t want to count. That was too tricky. He swallowed them.  

**

“Dinner’s ready Matty!” Josh called, placing a bowl of pasta on the small table. 

Matt emerged from the bedroom, looking upset, looking focused and determined. His eyes weren’t glassy anymore, his demeanour was not meek. 

“What the hell are those pills doing to me?!” he snapped in perfect diction. 

Josh stepped back. “Sorry mate, but I told you to read the warnings.” 

“I looked at the side effects list,” Matt snapped. 

“You obviously just read the common ones, if you’d read it all you’d have seen that it has very different effects on people who don’t actually have ADHD. Your brain is different and the effects of this medication are somewhat more extreme and long-lasting for you.”  

Matt paused, his stomach sinking. “Long-lasting?” he asked. 

Josh nodded. “It’s making permanent changes to your brain structure. The higher the dosage, the bigger the changes. I did tell you not to go over 20 mg. I don’t think you listened to me then either did you?” 

“I… I…” 

Josh chuckled. “And I’m the one with the attention deficit. At least I know to listen when someone warns me about dosages of a powerful drug.”  

“So how do we reverse it?” Matt demanded. 

Josh shook his head. “How much did you just take? It had to be a lot to make you this lucid again.” 

Matt looked even more worried. “I honestly don’t know.” 

“Well in that case I think what you should do right now is write down any last directions you want to make for your care, and messages to your family.” 

“For my care?!” Matt snapped. 

Josh nodded. “Yep, you’re going to need round the clock supervision from now on buddy.”

Matt shook his head. “I just need to keep taking the meds, they’re still making me normal while on it.” 

“You’re already over the maximum dosage buddy, next time the dose needed to bring you back could kill you. I’m afraid I’ll have to get rid of those pills after you drop back to baby land. Don’t worry though, you won’t even know they’re gone.” 

Matt was beyond terrified. He didn’t even feel high or anything, just normal. And the prospect of losing all of that, losing all his education and intelligence, scared him to death. It was such a high price to pay for trying to take a little short cut. 

“Shouldn’t we go to the hospital?” he asked. 

Josh shook his head. “And tell them what? I didn’t notice you stealing my pills over several days? Sorry but I’m not getting expelled and dragged into court over this.”  

“Fuck that, this is my brain at stake!” 

“It’s already a bit late for that buddy. You don’t want to transition back to babyhood in a big scary hospital, getting poked and prodded with needles. Better to just let it happen here. I’ll make sure you’re comfy.” 

Matt was ready to tell Josh to get screwed, he was going to the hospital on his own. But a wave of dizziness and fatigue hit him all at once. He shook his head, swooning. 

“No, it can’t be. I just took them,” he said, slurring his words. 

“The positive effects get shorter over a certain dosage, and obviously you’ve crossed that line,” Josh explained. 

Matt tried to fight it, he tried with all his might. But he ended up collapsing into Josh’s waiting arms, the last thing he felt as the world faded away was his room-mate patting his head softly, whispering that it would all be okay. 

**

Matty woke up in the morning, lying on the floor of the living room. There was something in his mouth, something rubber. He suckled on it, mmmm, it was soothing. He looked down at the nice soft onesie he was dressed in. He had no memory of being dressed in it, but it sure did feel good. And underneath it was something extra soft and fluffy around his pee-pee and bum. It made silly noises as he squirmed. 

“Looks like someone is awake,” Josh cooed, walking into the room and grinning down at Matty. “You like your new outfit buddy? I figured a diaper was a good idea after I saw the state of your bed yesterday.”

Matty didn’t understand a word of what Josh said, but he liked the gentle, happy tone. It made him smile around his binkie. He made happy noises and wriggled on his back. 

“Yes you are a happy little baby aren’t you?” Josh cooed. “I don’t think you need to be worrying about smart pills anymore.”  

Matty blew a raspberry around his binkie, spittle dribbling down his cheeks, then grabbed at his toes, pulling at them with curiosity.  

“That’s right, play with those tootsies Matty. Play toesies like the silly widdle baby boy you are. I’m sure your Mummy and Daddy will find it just adorable when I bring them over to see you in couple days.  I think they’ll completely accept that you’ve had an irreversible breakdown when they see what a silly little toe muncher you’ve become, don’t you?” 

Josh chided Matty, leaning down and plucking out his big binkie. Matty gaped slack-jawed up at the man who had helped wipe away his brain, then pulled his feet right to his face and jammed several toes in his mouth, slurping loudly away at them and drooling all over while Josh stroked his hair and nodded in approval.   

(Edit: Just thought I should add that I don’t mean for the characters’ views of ADHD people to be insulting. I have ADHD myself and based Matt’s views off of my own experience of how some people see it and how some people try to buy prescription drugs off those with a diagnosis.)

[doggybabyjr-deactivated20141216]

[mind-wiper]

“Hello, hello! Anybody here?” Steve called as he walked into the house. Weird, he thought, there didn’t seem to be anybody home at all. Yet he’d just received a text from Justin asking him to come over. 

Steve walked further into the house, looking for a sign of life. He was about to head back out when he heard something, a giggle maybe, from upstairs. Maybe Justin was watching Family Guy with his flat-mate, Tim, again.  He headed upstairs, hearing more giggling now. It was weird though, it didn’t sound like dudes laughing, it sounded like a little kid.  

As soon as Steve walked into the bedroom where the sounds seemed to be coming from, he knew something really strange was going on. Sure enough Justin and Tim were in the room and it seemed their buddy Ethan had joined them too.  But all three young men were kneeling on Tim’s bed, wearing nothing but thick diapers, bouncing and giggling.  Their clothes were scattered around the floor, abandoned.  

“What are you guys doing?” Steve asked, feeling really confused. 

It was Ethan who twisted around, looking at Steve with this really dumb open-mouthed grin. His whole face just looked so wrong, so stupid. But Ethan was studying medicine, he was no dope. Yet now he looked idiotic, like he was retarded or really high on something strong.  

“Daaa! Ptthhh!” he babbled and blew a raspberry at Steve before returning his attention to whatever had the others so intrigued. 

“Tim, Justin, what the fuck is going on here?!” Steve demanded. 

The two other men spun around, both smiling brightly. Justin’s chin was shiny with drool. Tim’s eyes were clearly blank, just so empty of recognition, of thought. And both young men sported obvious erections in their diapers. Now at least Steve understood what was so interesting to them, even if it horrified him further.  

“Guys, what are you doing?” Steve asked, more quietly, concerned. 

Justin and Tim hopped on the bed, giggling and babbling more nonsense. He was getting nothing out of them.  They clearly needed help, professional help. But as he prepared to call triple one for an ambulance he noticed something. There was one fresh diaper, sitting on the end of the bed.  Why just one clean one, he wondered.  

Carefully Steve walked to the bed, watching the nearly naked young men, his mates, suck on their fingers and stick their hands in their diapers to play with themselves shamelessly in front of him.  What had happened to them? And did the diaper have something to do with it? He picked it up, to see if there was anything unusual about it. 

It was like an electric shock. The second his skin made contact pleasure rippled through his body.  He knew instantly that the diaper had done it. The diaper was some kind of magic. He needed to put it down right now. How strange that he brought it to his face instead, rubbed his cheek against it, moaned with pleasure.  

He needed to put it on. He needed it up against his cock. He knew it was a bad idea, but he needed it, he physically needed to do it. He took off his clothes, finding it hard with only one free hand, but he had to hold the diaper. He couldn’t put it down for a second. Off went his shoes and socks, his shorts, his t-shirt and finally his boxers. The other men grinned and hopped on their bottoms, eager for a new play-mate. 

Steve tried to stop himself then. He saw their eager looks, he knew this was what happened to them. He needed to have more will-power. He looked down as he felt his erection building. Oh God, it was so big, so good. He needed this. He couldn’t deny it! 

Steve dropped to his bottom and pulled the diaper underneath him. As the soft material contacted his bottom he moaned with instant pleasure. God he needed release! He pulled the diaper up between his legs and taped it shut. His erect penis brushed against the material. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced. 

He managed to stand on his shaky legs, fighting to keep his eyes from rolling back in bliss. He could still think though. He was still him. He just needed to get control of himself. There was still time. 

But something else was telling him that it would all be better if he wasn’t still him. It would be twice as good if he was just like them, like the others. He needed to turn off his mind, stop thinking about anything but his nice, soft, warm diaper.  And he needed release, so, so badly. 

Steve grabbed the front of the diaper with both hands and thrust into them, feeling the soft material slide perfectly across his lengthened shaft. Up and down, up and down, so perfect until…

“Ugh! Mmmm! Ohhhh!” 

Steve came into the diaper, squirting out his load and feeling a sensation beyond sexual release. It was a mental release, the freeing of all his other worries and thoughts, letting them go, letting it all disappear. 

Steve finished his sticky squirts. The other boys smiled at him and he grinned back. What lovely fun! He climbed onto the bed to be with them.  They babbled silly sounds at him. Steve made silly sounds right back. He could make noises too! And his chin was all wet and icky but that was okay, that was just fine. And he didn’t even see his phone powering up, sending out a text message all on its own as it lay on the floor in his piled clothes. 

Twenty minutes later Liam walked into the bedroom, seeing four young men nearly nude on the bed. Steve twisted around to see him, wiggling his bare toes, pushing warm pee-pee into his lovely special diaper and smiling as he dimly understood they’d have another playmate now! 

[next-gen-men]

December 4th - Age Regression - Ricky

Curious about what's happened to Ethan and what's coming next? Check out the master post here!

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

The season is laced with a joyous hunger, And laughter fills those hearts that feel younger.

“Seriously, dude. I feel like you should forget all about that sorta stuff and just come over and lift with me! Getting a pump on at the gym always clears up my head, and there’s nothing better than growing these bad boys a little bigger,” Ricky sang as he showed off his physique in the video. The younger man grinned at the camera one more time, offering up another flex for Ethan to watch. “Anyways, gotta run. There were these two girls that kept lookin’ up and down at me, and I think they wanted a piece of this. Next time you’re around, let’s go lifting together! I bet all the women will be begging for us to go home with them!”

Ethan stared at the video message, watching it again for the third time. Never in his life had he thought things could get this crazy, but at the rate things were going, he was starting to accept that nothing would ever be the same again. It was better that he just accepted whatever strange and wacky things happened, right? After all he had witnessed, was he really surprised to see his grandfather aging back into a younger, more fit, and sexually active stud in the prime of his youth? How else could he explain the call he had gone through just earlier that day?

—------------------------------------

Several hours ago

After finally managing to get Leo out of his room, despite the other man’s protests to have a taste of him this morning, Ethan finally had a few moments for himself in private. Things were already busy enough with two other housemates and his pet dog, although his housemate Trevor didn’t seem to have any problems with Leo sticking around. That was at least one less thing Ethan had to worry about, thankfully. His moment of quiet and self-reflection was interrupted by the soft chime of a notification, and for a moment, the grad student froze. He didn’t want to look at his phone, fearing that whatever came next was something that he wouldn’t be able to handle.

But after mustering up enough courage to take a look, Ethan’s shoulders slumped in relief to see a message from his mom, reminding him to call his grandfather today to wish him a happy holiday. He usually called monthly; it was nothing too crazy. Ethan wouldn’t say he was particularly close to his maternal grandfather, but given how busy his life was with school, his job, and exam season, the young man was grateful for the reminder. If he forgot, he was sure he wouldn’t hear the end of it from his mom when he went back home. And he did enjoy listening to his grandfather’s stories when he could; Ethan could always appreciate learning more about what life was like back then, as it was the origin of his family. His Gramps was no longer in a condition to travel, and since Richard was living internationally with one of Ethan’s aunts and some caretakers, seeing him in person was a rare opportunity. The family had settled for calling instead, with only his mom and dad flying back when they had time to do so.

Even so, Ethan knew he had a responsibility to show respect and gratitude for the elders in his family. And with Leo out bothering Trevor instead of himself, the young man figured now was as good a time as any to give him a call. After hearing the call dial for a few seconds, he was greeted by the sight of his old man, seemingly in the middle of watching his television. 

“Hi, Gramps! How’s it going? I just wanted to wish you a happy holiday!” Ethan called out, smiling widely.

“Ah, Ethan! It’s good to hear from you. How is school? Your mother had mentioned you were studying chemistry? Or was it engineering again…? You know, I was just thinking about you the other day…” The old man rambled, his gaze darting between the phone screen and the TV that he had yet to turn off. Ethan chuckled fondly, knowing that figuring out how to handle two screens at once could be challenging for his grandfather without his aunt around to help. “Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt, Grandpa. If you want to keep watching your show, I can call back some other time,” he offered politely.

Richard huffed as he finally managed to set his eyes on the TV remote, reaching forward to grab the stick and forcefully pressing the button. With no more background noises, Ethan could see and hear the labor that the old man was exerting just to move around. “Oh, nonsense. I want to hear about you. It’s been some time since we last talked. I was bragging to my friends about you. How my grandson is going to grow up and change the world. Your mom was talking about this report you did, and how much everyone liked it… Now what was it about again…?” 

As he listened to Richard continue recounting his tales about Ethan’s supposed work, the young man was greeted with another drop-down notification. Idly thinking that it was his mom texting him once more, he tapped it without thinking. And in that moment, he was greeted with two plain lines of text. Just another daily reading for the calendar. And something about hearts feeling younger?

“...and it was David who brought it over for me. Or Melissa. I’m not sure again, but the people around have just been so lovely helping an old man like me out. It’s not easy, you know. It can get lonely if you don’t have good company.” Ethan’s gaze returned to the video call, quickly sliding the Advent app out of the way. Perhaps he was supposed to learn lessons from these kinds of experiences, and the app was helping him figure out how to live his life to the best of his ability. Ethan wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to come across as uninterested or uncaring towards his grandfather if he ignored him.

“I’m glad you have such kind people around, Gramps. I think you mentioned a new walking group you were considering joining last month. How did that go? Were you able to make some friends there?” Ethan offered a small smile as he propped the phone up against the tissue box on his desk to get a proper view of the video feed.

“Ah, I did! They were so welcoming to me. You know, I didn’t think I could keep up, but something about meeting them and walking with them made me feel like I had all the energy in the world again,” Richard hummed as he thought back to his past excursions. “In fact, it’s similar to how I’ve been feeling today. Something about talking to you must have really cheered me up and given me more energy,” he chuckled as he rubbed at his jaw in thought.

“I’m glad to hear that, Grandpa. Having energy is good, and I know exercise can be beneficial to help with the mood,” Ethan agreed. “And your medications aren’t making you too tired for that sort of stuff, right? You don’t have to push yourself too hard if it ends up being uncomfortable.”

Richard nodded in agreement, smiling back at Ethan with a bit more luster and sparkle in his eyes. “Oh no, nothing like that. Thankfully, this new batch seems to be working.” The old man sat a bit more upright, as if lengthening and stretching out his usually bent, spent. “You know, today’s the best that I’ve felt in a very long time. I wish you would call and chat with me more often. I feel like I could take on the world,” he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his head. “You know, I wonder if people have been trying to help me out some more just because I hurt my back last week at the gym. The nice, young ladies next door have been so insistent on bringing over their baked goods for me that your aunt’s been trying to fend them off now. Not good for my heart, she says,” Richard chuckled, his broader shoulders shaking with each laugh.

Ethan’s brows furrowed for a moment, his head tilting as he processed what the other man was saying. “Oh, I… I didn’t know you went to the gym, Grandpa. I thought with your condition it would… be hard to do that.”

“Didn’t know? My goodness, boy. Do you hear yourself? Going to the gym once a week is a common occurrence for me. How else do you think I built up this muscle?” Richard said with a deeper and more hearty laugh. Through the screen, he sounded louder. Healthier. Like he wasn’t even aware of his own voice’s volume with his bellows. The older man leaned in close to the screen, throwing his arm up to show Ethan a firm and strong flex of his biceps. “And you know I’m not that old yet to be a grandpa. Just uncle is fine. Trying to keep me humble for all my years, huh?” he chuckled, clearly amused at what he thought was a joke that Ethan had made.

The student could only stare back at the call, rubbing his eyes in confusion. He was so sure that he had been talking to a rather frail and helpless man before, so why did he mistakenly call his uncle Richie “grandpa”? Of course, he’d been working out; his uncle always liked to show off his muscles for the ladies. His dad was always envious of how Richie managed to keep his body in good shape. But before he could offer up an apology for his mistake, the older man continued on.

“And you know that running club I was telling you about? I’ll let you in on a little secret. It’s actually the best place to meet all those hot, sexy ladies. They get one look at me, and they know I can give things to them that their husbands can’t,” Richie teased as he wiggled his brows at the camera. “I mean, I know I’m practically the same age as them, but it helps that I don’t have any kids to worry about when they come over to mine instead. Some of them have just gotten married and are already looking for someone better to spice up their bedroom. And what’s even funnier is their husbands are into it! One of them even paid me to let him watch as I went to town on his wife.” Ethan could feel himself wincing a bit at the other’s words, only noting just how strange it was to see his middle-aged uncle talk so openly and freely about his sex life. While Richie was close to his mom’s age, Ethan really wished that the other man wasn’t so willing to share these things with his nephew over a video call.

“I…I see. I don’t think I should, um, hear about this sorta stuff though. I was actually just calling to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

“Oh, c’mon, man. What’s a little locker room talk between two buddies?” Richie said as he flashed a wide-toothed grin at Ethan. His uncle was showing off his perfectly white and aligned teeth, his “secret weapon” to make people blush and weak in their knees, or so he had told Ethan last month. “Here, I’ll even show you some of the pics I was sending them after my daily workout at the gym. They go nuts over it.”

Ethan’s phone buzzed as his uncle texted him pictures, although the images inside seemed to be of someone younger, almost his own age. Did Richie accidentally send him photos of his younger cousin? He glanced up in confusion, only to be greeted by the sight of the younger man in the pictures, beaming back as if he had won the lottery.

“I mean, obviously, those ladies were just looking for some fun with someone younger and hotter than them. Someone who can really appreciate those mommy milkers of theirs, am I right?” Ricky laughed as he flicked his tongue out in a lewd gesture. “Of course, the dudes here at the gym always want a piece too. And since I’m the hottest, youngest stud around, they come crawling on their hands and knees, just begging for a taste of me. I don’t usually swing that way, but for the right guy and the right price, I could really make their night,” he snorted.

“But… I thought you went to the gym once a week?” Ethan managed to choke out dumbly as he tried to filter through the whiplash of everything that was happening. Never mind the far more crass and lewd personality of his… younger cousin, Ricky. The younger man simply didn’t have a role model in his life to look up to, and with his brain filled with all the alpha male content on social media, Ethan wasn’t too surprised by his behavior. Or shouldn’t be, if he could just wrap his mind around it.

Ricky laughed at that statement, rolling his eyes once more at the other. “Dude, seriously? Once a week? Try twice a day! How else do you think I built up these babies? You can tell all the ladies get a bit jealous when I’ve got the biggest chest, but they always want to feel after I give them a little one-two bounce,” he laughed as he popped his pecs. The younger man began to grope and squeeze at the two heavy mounds, practically pushing them up against the camera to the point where Ethan could almost feel them through the tight, form-fitting tank top.

“Obviously, I don’t just let anyone feel it, though. Nah, the ladies gotta be worth my time, man. Between lifting and all the posting I do on Instagram, I can’t just fuck any cunt. They gotta be the sluttiest little whore out there, ready to pig out on my cock and last through the fucking they can take from me,” his younger cousin bragged as he puffed out his chest. “Yo, next time, see if you can come with Auntie and Unc the next time they swing out here. We gotta get you to the gym with me, man. I bet you could get all the ladies if you got some fat muscle tits like me. Normally, I’d charge for all the training sessions, but since you’re family, I guess I’ll let it slide this time,” Ricky laughed. 

Ethan could only stare back blankly as he nodded slowly in response. What more was he supposed to say to this riled-up young man? What was strange was that, out of everyone in the family, Ricky only cared about his own opinion and thoughts. It was why his mom had asked him to call his younger cousin from time to time, since he didn’t have a father or any other older role models in his life. But the last time Ethan had tried to bring up something more serious, like his research projects, his younger cousin constantly whined about how boring it was and how much better things were if he could just lift and pump iron 24/7 to bulk up for the next “session.” 

Ricky grinned once more at Ethan, picking up the phone as he began tugging off his tank. The younger man had no concern about doing this all on camera anymore. In fact, as far as the grad student could tell, his cousin seemed to love putting on a show now that he knew Ethan was watching. Showing off his muscular yet lithe body all in frame, Ricky made sure to take his time, slowly sliding into that black compression shirt. He even made low, lewd noises of grunts and groans as he slid it over those particular tits, only smirking and bouncing them once more.

“Anyways, I gotta go to the gym now. But it was great chatting with ya! Tell Auntie and Unc I said hi and all that happy holidays stuff. I can’t lie; every time you call, I feel all fired up afterwards. It’s like you’re my own personal pre-workout drink,” Ricky laughed as he reached down to grab his gym bag off the floor by his feet. “Maybe I’ll send you a vid later if I hit a PR or if I get a good pump going. Or you can always just check my feed later. I know my fans always get excited if I post a post-workout pic. You wouldn’t believe the amount of DMs I get from all the gays asking me to sell my used clothes to them after. Maybe I should think of that as a new business…”

Ethan, in his stupor, managed to open his mouth to stop the other man from trailing down that particular route. But the call was quickly cut off without a simple goodbye, leaving him staring at the “Call Ended” screen. At least he did what his mom had asked him to do, right? But he thought he had been on a call with his grandfather before… Closing out of the app, he took a chance to flick through Ricky’s Instagram, surprised to see that Ethan was already following the other’s account. His eyes widened at the first picture he saw, though, already seeing the popularity spike with all the likes and comments on it. Was this really the same person who had barely been able to figure out how to work a television remote?

stayin’ strong. stayin’ focused. 🖤🔥🤍 #obsessed #alpha #stayjealouslosers

[dreamertf]

Uncle, Roommate?

/tw incest, in a way

My uncle, roommate- wait. No- fuck I don't know anymore I'm so confused. There used to be this person that Jace used to be. I swear he used to be older, but I'm not too sure now. The day that changes began I thought I was going crazy- I woke up to him in the kitchen making breakfast. Instead of his usually short fat ugly self, he looked… normal. Something I hadn't been used to at all.

His hair was more filled in, neat, rather than the messy balding bird's nest it used to be. He talked calmly, his voice a bit lower than normal. That was just the beginning. Each day I woke up scared as he continued to morph into someone completely different, something completely different. I’m not so bad looking myself, 6’2”, muscular, definitely my fathers child. But after a few days he was taller than me.

I woke up to the sound of weights in the garage. The clanking noise followed by deep grunting. The day before the garage just held his old dusty car and a few cobwebs, but opening the door I found a complete home gym. A bit janky, but very good for a home gym. As he stood up my eyes trailed down his shirtless sweaty body. Jace looked completely different, he was my age now, about 20 years old. His shoulders broad and muscular, leading down to a narrow waist adorned with an eight pack of abs. A small dusting of hair leading downwards into his tight gym shorts. 

“You gotta learn to stop staring bud” he huffed out, smiling.

That damn fucking smirk was dangerous. His chiseled face had gained dimples in the past day, making his perfect cocky smirk even more attractive. His wavy hair flopped down as he adjusted his package– the head of his huge dick straining against those lucky pair of shorts. Stretched to its limit, what I would give to be in its position. 

“Not that I mind much” he continued, winking as he went back to working out. 

Jace was a completely different person at this point, and my memories seem to be faltering. I more just remember how I felt about his changes, how conflicted I felt at the beginning. We started texting when we weren't together at home. When we were apart I wanted to be by him constantly, I felt so needy. Like I couldn't breathe without him. Now It's been about a month since he started changing, and he knows that he can get me to do anything he wants. Who could say no to that face?

1 new text message from; Jace🤍

“Cum home babbeeee this cock misses u”

Fuck not right now I'm at work.

[alphajocklover]

Discord TF #8

I'm loving seeing all these hot guys on the football world cup. Could you make me one of them so i can try to score some goals? I'm really into a certain swedish player

So… there may have been a bit of a miscommunication

Give me a week, and I should be able to turn you into a hunky swedish football player. I really need to try and transform myself into people from different counties more often, instead of always going american. I think it's starting to mess with my head

---

Hey dude! I’m going on vacation and I would love to have a really big hot body that’s sure to get noticed on the beach. And score me some action too. 😉

Have a great vacation! I'm sure a beefy body like this is sure to get you noticed by all the right people! I have to say, I'm impressed. I never knew the pirate look could be so sexy~!

---

Hey, i need some help. I woke up today to a package at my doorstep, i didn't order anything so i was quite confused. I opened it up and the only thing inside was a balaclava mask, it smelled really weird…. sort of like musk… I don't know why but i wanna put it on….

I feel like this should go without saying, but maybe don't put on weird smelling masks you find mysteriously in the mail. Sure, sometimes you'll be transformed into a muscular hunk with huge pecs. But it also could have been, like, poisoned or something.

I'm just saying, even if it worked out well this time… maybe be a bit more careful in the future.

---

Sooo my boyfriend wants to be a bodybuilder.The mass, with the sculpt. The next Arnold, all that jazz.

Well, he recently acquired these shiny blue posing trunks. Said they will help jumpstart his career.Hes already trying them on. Should I be worried?

Calling what your boyfriend did a “jumpstart” is like calling a nuclear blast “impressive fireworks.” Your boyfriend has, as you expected, used unnatural means to enhance his body and start off his new bodybuilding career with a bang, and just as you guessed, those shiny blue posing trunks are what’s caused this. The dye in those shorts comes from a rare, electric blue fruit known as a Musdeus fruit. Found only in the Amazon, it’s said that anyone who eats it will become a god of masculine virility. Apparently wearing clothing dyed by it works too.

Your boyfriend should be fine. He is cheating at bodybuilding, but as long as hes smart about it he should be fine. There wont be any big side effects or something. Just make sure to dry clean that poser. Otherwise dye might rub off on some of your other clothing…

---

So I was at the gym and this guy came up to me and called me Brody. It’s not my name but he insisted that it is and says he needs to see me tonight. Do you know what he’s talking about?

I'm sorry, I'm a little confused by the question. Why would it be weird for him to call you Brody? Thats your name, right? I mean, I know you said its not your name but… it is your name. I've never met you before and I can just tell your name is Brody. You look like a Brody after all. All tall and blond, ripped as hell with a cocky look on your stupidly handsome face. You look like a total bro, a total Brody. And I bet you act like a Brody too. Act like a dumb, cocky gym bro who only thinks about fucking and lifting. Thinks like a guy who says 'bros before hoes' unironically and kisses his own biceps. Yeah, I bet you act like a Brody. cause you are. You're a Brody, and always have been. I don't know why your own boyfriend calling you your name would confuse you, but I guess you're not the smartest guy, are you Brody?

Anyways, I'm sorry I couldn't help you out. Hopefully your boyfriend will be able to clear up whatever was confusing you when you see him tonight.

Oh, and, could you please stop calling me Chad? Thats not my name…

[alphajocklover]

Hey man! I'm an average guy who works out a lot and is trying to get some muscle on his body haha, I've recently heard about this Jock Studies thing and I was curious what it was all about and why are so many other guys enrolling into it all of a sudden.. I've also been feeling like someone has been watching me the last few days as I was working out.. but I didn't today close attention.. maybe it's a talent scout.. hmm... Who knows..

I’ve got to say, I’m impressed. Not to stereotype, but not many college athletes are as perceptive as you. Not only did you notice that something was up with Jock studies without immediately getting hypnotized, you noticed one of their assistant coaches following you! Assistant coaches do that stuff a lot, since they’re subservient to the main coaches, but still smart enough to not get caught, unlike the jocks who’d probably get distracted by their own pecs. Now, sadly that perceptiveness doesn’t seem to have come with any common sense, because the fact that you noticed you’re being followed and don’t seem to be at all worried means you’re basically already doomed. I’m guessing by the time you get this you’ll already be a beefy, dumb, slutty gay jock who loves to gargle his coaches' hairy balls. So, I don’t think I’m going to be able to help you much… but at least I can use this as a way to warn other people! So, I’ve talked about Jock Studies before, about how they systematically infiltrate colleges around the country and brainwash students into being slutty, sexy jocks who worship their macho coaches. But I haven’t gone much into how people end up joining Jock studies. I mean, yeah, most people end up in jock studies after taking a class out of curiosity and getting pulled in, or being hypnotized by some horny jock, or because they got too close to the truth had to be silenced, in this case by a thick cock being shoved in their mouth, but there are some other ways and reasons that people end up joining Jock studies. Rarely, certain people are specifically sought out to join Jock Studies, are ‘scouted’ just as this guy has been, and once they have been there is no escape. Once you’ve caught Coach’s eye, you’re going to end up a jock, no matter what you do to protect yourself. In the end the only way to avoid getting changed, is to avoid being noticed by the members of Jock Studies at all, which can be harder than you think. When someone is scouted for Jock Studies, it’s usually for a specific reason. In this guy's case it’s probably because of how dedicated he is to working out, since those who already have the qualities of good athletes often become the best jocks after being changed, but there are other reasons. For example, having a connection to one of the jocks or coaches is a common reason. Some jocks feel a natural urge to have some of their old nerdy friends back, and request that they get changed, and some coaches want people they’re close to to feel how amazing it is to serve Coach. The best thing to do to avoid being changed is to avoid anyone who is even remotely connected to Jock Studies, and try not to show even the slightest bit of athletic promise.

For those of you who actually want to join jock studies, which I both understand and think is absolutely insane, being scouted is actually a really good thing. Jocks who get scouted often get the most intense, amazing transformations, and get perks once they are jocks. Because of this guy's dedication to working out and his perceptiveness, I bet they’ll make him absolutely massive, and maybe even let him keep some of his brains. I’ve even heard rumors that some high performing jocks are assigned ‘cheertwinks’ as rewards for good behavior, but I can’t be sure that's true. Anyways, I hope you enjoy being a huge, dumb himbo jock who thinks only about pleasing Coach, working out, and fucking anyone remotely hot. Especially since you don’t really have a choice.

[horniestofhoes]

Hey, does anyone in this sub have any experience reverting bodily modification spells? I called some girl at the bar a fugly bitch and said that I was way out of her league, so she cast some spells and now I’m some kind of freaky manslut. I grew to 6’4 and my muscles are now fucking huge, I could probably crush some heads with my biceps and probably some melons with my thighs. My cock is now freakishly large and I’m so so so so FUCKING horny all the time I can’t even think straight, probably because she made me gay too. No guy can take this log without going to the ER so I just have to jerk it hourly. Every piece of clothing I wear now is either super short of super tight, so I just look like an attention whore all the time. Need help ASAP, if not to reverse the changes just to milk my dick. THX in advance

[misctf]

Safe Space Spray

Owen picked up his phone and dialed Jake's number as he drove along the winding country road leading to Jake's family cabin. The warm southern sun beat down through the windshield while classic rock played softly from the speakers. After a few rings, Jake answered.

“Well hey there partner!” Jake's cheerful voice came through the speaker. “How far ya'll out?”

“Not too much longer now,” Owen replied, his deep southern drawl rolling through each word, “I reckon 'bout thirty minutes tops. That fishing hole better be swimmin' with catfish like you said!”

“My mama didn’t raise no liar.” Jake replied, his hearty laugh echoing over the phone.

Owen smiled. This was gonna be the best fishin’ trip yet. As the call continued, Owen kept his eyes on the road ahead, the vast expanse of rural landscape stretching out before him. Suddenly, something caught his eye- a small figure standing beside a broken-down vehicle on the shoulder.

“Aw shucks, looks like some fella's car done gone and quit on 'im.” Owen muttered to himself as he slowed his truck, “Jake, I reckon I’ll be by later. I’m gonna see if I can lend a hand.”

Owen pulled his pickup truck over onto the gravelly shoulder behind the stranded vehicle. He removed his hat and ran a hand through his short brown hair and approached the man hunched over the open hood.

“Howdy there! Looks like you're havin' some trouble with your ride. Name's Owen, I'm pretty handy with fixin' things if you need a lendin' hand.” He called out in his friendly drawl.

The stranger, a slender young man with styled blonde hair, whirled around. His eyes widened in surprise and apprehension as he took in Owen's appearance. The twink's hands shook slightly as he reached into his pocket and aimed what looked like a small spray bottle directly at Owen.

“I-I don't want any trouble!” the blonde stammered, his voice high-pitched with anxiety.

Before Owen could react, the twink pressed down on the trigger, unleashing a fine mist across his handsome face and chest. Owen blinked and coughed, shaking his head slightly as droplets hit his face and clothes. It didn’t sting or burn. It felt like water.

“The hell was that for?” Owen demanded, his brow furrowing in confusion and annoyance, “I ain't here to cause you no harm, bud. Just tryin' to help.”

“I-I'm sorry!” The twink squeaked, “Around here, you don't know what kind of people you'll run into.”

Owen sighed heavily, wiping his brow, “Listen here, I understand yer cautious. But I promise you, I mean no ill intent. Let me take a look at yer car, see if I can get 'er runnin' again.”

The blonde hesitated briefly before nodding, “Okay... I guess that would be okay. Thank you.” He stepped aside, allowing Owen access to the vehicle.

As Owen popped the hood, he furrowed his brow in concentration, his large hands working deftly under the hood. However, he found himself growing increasingly clumsy and uncoordinated, fumbling with tools he'd handled with ease a hundred times before.

“I swear...” he muttered, his words coming out slightly slurred, “This oughta be a cinch for me...”

He fumbled with the engine components, his large hands suddenly feeling clumsy and unfamiliar. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to focus. Just then, the twink appeared at his side, holding out a bottled water.

“Here, you must be thirsty after all this work.”

Without thinking, Owen took the bottle and chirped in an impossibly high, effeminate voice, “Thanks sis!”

Owen froze, his eyes widening as the words left his mouth. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he gripped the edge of the car hood for support. Shaking his head, he tried to push the strange moment from his mind.

“Uh, thanks kindly.” he mumbled, taking a long swig of water to cover his embarrassment.

He turned back to the engine, determined to finish the repair quickly so he could be on his way.

With renewed focus (and a touch more difficulty), Owen worked to diagnose and fix the issue. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he stepped back as the engine roared to life.

“There ya go, as good as new!” He grinned at Paul, wiping his hands on a rag.

As Owen straightened up and turned to face Paul fully, he couldn't help but really notice the younger man for the first time. Paul's delicate features, stylish hair, and slim physique suddenly seemed incredibly appealing. Their eyes locked- Paul’s deep blue captivating Owen’s. Owen felt an unfamiliar flutter in his chest and his dick stir ever so slightly in his increasingly tighter jeans.

“You've been an absolute lifesaver.” Paul gushed, flashing Owen a dazzling smile. He stepped closer, the two now the same height. Owen could’ve sworn he had been taller, “If you ever find yourself in the city, call me. I'd love to thank you properly.” He slipped a piece of paper into Owen’s pocket with a playful wink.

Owen felt a flush creep up his neck at the suggestive tone. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure despite the odd sensations still tingling through his body.

“Ah, well, just doin' what any decent fella would do.”

Owen watched as Paul slid gracefully into his car, the movement highlighting the pert curve of his ass. He swallowed thickly, his heart pounding for reasons he couldn't quite explain. As Paul drove away, Owen looked down and saw the discarded can that Paul sprayed him with earlier.

“He must’ve forgotten it.” Owen frowned inspecting the strange bottle, “Safe Space Spray... what in the world...” He chuckled, “I reckon I’ll get it to ‘em when I see ‘em next.” He paused, “What the hell am I thinkin’. I ain’t seein’ him again...”

But he wasn’t sure he could even convince himself. He wanted to see him again... Owen shook his head and placed the can in his pocket before climbing back into his own truck. With a sigh, he reached for the ignition but recoiled at the sight of his hand.

“What in the...”

Owen stared at his hand in shock, noting the slight tremor and how it almost seemed to have lost some of its natural ruggedness. His callouses... gone. His nails... well-manicured. Alarmed, he gripped the steering wheel tightly and peeled out, speeding towards Jake's cabin with an urgency he couldn't explain. As he drove, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he noticed his hair looked shaggier, his facial features softening.

“What in tarnation is happenin' to me?” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly. He tried to rationalize it, blaming stress or exhaustion, but he knew it was something more.

Just then, he squirmed in his seat as his ass inflated, his previously snug jeans straining against the growing mounds. And with each bump in the road, Owen stifled a moan as jolts of unfamiliar pleasure rushed through his groin.

“No, no, no... Oh my GAWD!” He whimpered, cringing at the loss of his rich Southern drawl- replaced now by words colored by a nasally, high-pitched timbre, “Like... this is totally not okay!”

Owen finally arrived at Jake's cabin, tires screeching as he parked haphazardly. He stumbled out of the truck, trying to balance himself given his now fat ass. He can hear Jake outside, gathering wood for a bonfire and he bites his tongue before sauntering towards the door.

“I-I have to get inside... hide this from Jake...” He whimpered, “How... why is this...?” His eyes widen, “The spray!” He squealed, “I need to like... totally wash this off!”

Owen practically sprinted to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. With trembling hands, he began tearing at his clothes, buttons flying as he stripped. He stood naked in front of the mirror, hardly recognizing the reflection staring back at him.

His once broad shoulders had narrowed, his pecs shrinking into perky little mounds with cute pink nipples. Below, his six-pack had melted away, leaving behind a smooth, hairless torso. And between his legs... Owen gasped, covering his mouth as he saw the nub that had once been his proud cock.

“Oh em gee...” He whined, “I'm like... a total twink now!” Tears pricked at his eyes as he reached for the shower knob with slender fingers. Steam billowed out as he stepped under the hot spray, hoping the water might somehow reverse these changes.

Owen lathered up a loofah, scrubbing at his skin vigorously. To his horror, he watched clumps of any remaining dark body hair rinse away down the drain, leaving behind silky smooth flesh. Scars and rough patches vanished, his complexion becoming flawlessly soft and clear.

“Eep!” He yelped as his hands brushed lower, encountering the plush globes of his ass. They seemed to swell and expand with every passing second, growing rounder and fuller until they were each easily a handful. Owen couldn't resist giving them a tentative squeeze, marveling at their suppleness- imagining another man playing with them.

A breathy moan escaped his increasingly plumper lips as he kneaded the doughy cheeks, sending sparks of pleasure radiating through his core- thoughts of muscular men squeezing his ass filled his head.

“Oh fuck yes.... I wonder...” Curiosity got the better of him as he inserted a digit inside his virgin hole. It stretched deliciously around the intrusion and Owen saw stars, his neglected cock weeping steadily. He pumped the finger faster, soon adding a second, then a third, “Oh.... Ohhhhhhh....” He moaned, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head, “I'm... I'm gonna... cum!”

Owen let out a long moan as his entire body seized and his orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave. He slumped to the shower’s floor, his eyes half-lidded and glazed over. After a few moments of basking in his post-orgasm bliss, the new twink slowly stood up and exited the shower. He walked over to his bed and collapsed- the day’s events exacting their toll on him.

“What the hell!?” Owen looked up- a shocked expression gracing his cute features.

“J-Jake! I... um...It’s me! It’s Owen!” Owen stammered, his voice pitching higher than normal. He made no attempt to cover himself, proud now to flaunt his assets. And besides, why had he never noticed how sexy Jake was before?

Jake's jaw dropped, his eyes bulging as he took in the shocking sight before him. There were few, if any similarities between him and his friend. But there were enough.

“Holy shit, Owen?! What happened to you?”

Owen's eyes lit up as a mischievous grin spread across his glossy lips, “Oh sweetie, you wouldn't believe the wild ride I've been on!” He giggled.

Reaching over to the pile of discarded clothes, he fished out the mysterious spray can. Jake looked at his friend, and then to the can, and then back up to his friend.

“Wha...”

Without warning, Owen pressed down on the trigger, unleashing another fine mist straight into Jake's stunned, handsome face...

[mr-haitch-but-lewd]

Can you make a jungle boy of Cole brookstone from lego ninjago

I've been meaning to do this request for a while, ninja boys make great jungle boys

[horniestofhoes]

Camouflaged

My sister, god bless her heart, has awful taste in men. Every other month she’ll fall in love with some dickwad, then come crying to me about how he started treating her horribly, how he cheated and so on so forth. I don’t mind though, cause that means I have a target to change that has it coming anyways.

Take for example this new guy, Trevor. I can see in his file that he’s a huge, 6’2 180 pounds, misogynistic jerk from the army, coming from a long line of guys just like himself. Loves to chase ladies, pump n dump, even had a few kids lying around that he doesn’t know and probably wouldn’t care about. He’s just living his life being guided by his dick really, but I’m not gonna him walk away all fine after he messed with my family.

Just making some adjustments… and done! Now, he’s not exactly from the army anymore, cause the guys in there beat him up so hard a lot after his father forced him to go in order to “not be a faggot” that he had to leave. Now, he pursues his true passion: Dancing at a strip club, always wearing his camo uniform, of course. I also dolled him up a bit, cause since he’s not gonna be into ladies anymore, I might as well have some fun too! Smooth body, not capable of growing any body hair, blonde locks, cock sucking lips, a huuuuge butt, and I also doubled the size of his dick even though he’s not gonna be using it much now, just because. My sis is gonna love this when she sees it, haha!