18+ | NSFW | FKA GrowingGuys | queer male fantasy erotica—if you don’t like seeing it, then just block me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ | no pedos, transphobes, or right-wingers ❌
Hey guys! I know several others have done this, so I figured I’d jump on board and get one of these posts done myself.
Any tags I’ve used can be found in the tags of this post too! I’ll update this as time goes on and as new stories are posted (as infrequently as that may be sometimes 😂).
So, whether you’re new to the page (welcome!) or if you’re looking for something specific I’ve posted, grab a drink and let this be your guiding star.
Enjoy!
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Riding Shotgun
GrowingGuys + Redux - Hick Revenge | Body Bundle | Guy’s Weekend | Calvin and Danielle | Becoming an American | Growth Spice | Fest Prep | Booty Call | “Borrowing” Clothes | Agency Experiment | Testosterone Potion | Bringing the Spark Back | Confidence Cocktail
I can't believe I proposed to this idiot. So, my fiancé Carmen is pretty slim, and lately he keeps bringing up how he wants to get jacked like... well, like me. So THEN, he tells me he's been having dreams where he's bigger than me. Little does this doofus know, but he's fucking hulking out in bed every goddamn night. He's back to normal by morning so he doesn't even believe me, which like, seriously? I'm like, whatever, pecs can stand-in for a pillow I guess. It's a good thing I love him so fuckin much.
still alive, still writing—with what scarce time I have—still working, still waiting for the government to militarize the city i live in (stop threatening and just do it! shit or get off the pot bitch!), just overloaded with work. i’ll work on getting something out soon!
You read the text over and over, and stared at the pic below. It was totally out of character for your intellectual, anxious boyfriend to send you a text like that out of nowhere, even at the gym. And the picture he had sent with it…
You couldn’t quite put your finger on what was different, but he looked incredibly sexy. The coloured hair, the tattoos, even the way his shirt clung to his body, it was somehow different than what you expected but you still knew it was him. His eyes were just the same as always. Fuck, did he really want to get dirty right now?
Another text popped up. “Bro, my pits are fuckin rank, cum 2 the last stall”
This must be some kind of surprise roleplay. You were both into those dumb, musky jocks and fantasised about public sex, even though you'd never tried it. And you could feel yourself starting to chub up in your gym shorts, too.
Fuck it. “On my way, baby.”
“Call me dude, bro.”
A moment later, you pushed open the door to the bathroom. It felt so dirty to walk casually past the urinals, watching yourself in the mirror as if your body was moving on autopilot. Were you walking differently than normal? Could people tell? The air itself felt different, pregnant with horny anticipation.
You knocked gently on the last stall, and the latch slid open.
“Hey bro,” said your boyfriend, pulling you into the close space. Was his voice deeper, more smokey? He looked even bigger than he had in the picture, his eyes full of desperate lust.
“What’s up dude?” you replied, using the nickname like he’d told you. “How’s the lift going?”
“Oh, you know me,” he crowded you against the wall, raising one arm so all you could see was the tangled, wet hair of his armpit, “I got too fuckin’ horny and had to call my bro in to help.”
This was really happening. You had your boyfriend’s fresh, musky pits right in front of you. Five minutes ago he’d been on the elliptical, and you could still feel the heat of his exertion radiating onto you. You angled your head forward, straight into the dense, sweaty forest, and took a deep whiff.
Your boyfriend stifled your moan with his pit as he crushed you against the flimsy stall wall. “Let it in, bro,” he ordered you, his free hand reaching down to fondle your cock straight through your shorts.
As you started licking, you felt something like a finger reach down the back of your shorts and tease your ass. You gasped at the intrusion.
“Shhh,” your boyfriend told you. “Keep quiet, bro. Let it in.” One hand was behind his head, the other beginning to undo the drawstring of your shorts.
You pulled back, looked up at his face. You trusted the expression in his eyes. It felt so good to lean back in as your boyfriend started to stroke your cock and the something behind you ran a cold finger around your rim.
The sensation quickly slipped into your ass, and you barely held back a keen as it massaged your prostate. You felt so full all of the sudden, but all you could focus on was the pleasure and the sharp, musky stench overpowering all your senses.
“C’mon bro, keep going, you’re almost there,” came your boyfriend’s voice as your rock-hard cock started to fill your shorts with precum. “Fill up so good.”
Your belly felt swollen now, and so, so cold, even enveloped in the warmth of your boyfriend’s body. Suddenly, the cold clawed upwards into your chest, and you looked down in shock.
Your belly was overfilled, and your pecs were bouncing of their own volition. They were bouncing and growing, thick dark hair covering them as the areolae expanded. “What’s-“ you gasped, but then your boyfriend’s hand shot to your new muscle tits. His callused, wide, masculine hand. The pleasure of his touch shot through your brain and your voice cut off in a choked gasp.
Suddenly, you could see what had happened to your boyfriend. The tattoos, the hair, the muscles, the voice. They weren’t him, they were something else inside him. Something dumb, musky, and perverted.
“C’mon bro, you’re so close, let my bro and me play a bit,” the thing in your boyfriend rasped in your ear. Meanwhile, you felt your lats jerk wider, hair growing wild in your armpits as the intense scent of your musk began to fight with your boyfriend’s.
You looked into his eyes and realised they hadn’t changed. Your boyfriend was looking out, watching your biceps thicken and your neck widen, and he was loving it. Every motion, every touch, every hushed gasp in the public bathroom, was exactly what he had always wanted but never been able to actually do. And you wanted it too.
Your arms, out of your control, pushed your shorts down your thickening thighs, letting your massive cock flop out. One massive, thick-fingered hand pulled out your boyfriend’s hard cock and put them both end to end, stretching your foreskin over his cockhead and starting to stroke. Now it was your boyfriend’s turn to stifle his yell as you lost control of your face to the thing inside you.
“Fuck yeah, dude,” your mouth said, the voice deep and slow. “Found such a good body for your bro. He’s so fuckin’ happy in here, lettin’ me flex and bate him and givin' into the musk.”
Your boyfriend grunted and grabbed your lips in a bruising kiss. “So’s this guy, bro,” he purred. “Fuck, I can’t wait to make you smell these feet, bro.”
A moment later, your boyfriend hissed and you felt his hot cum flood your foreskin, tipping you over the edge. Foreheads pressed together, you rode out the orgasm with ragged breaths and shifting feet, flexing muscle on muscle to prolong the pleasure. When you finally released your foreskin, your boyfriend cupped his hands to get both your loads as they spilled out, and met your eyes as he tipped it into his mouth. You felt a shuddering aftershock as your boyfriend looked out past the thing possessing him, delirious with pleasure.
“Let’s crush the rest of the workout, bro,” he whispered, giving you one last cummy kiss.
“You’ll smell me from across the gym, dude,” you said, lifting one arm and sticking your tongue out.
You didn’t know how long you and your boyfriend would be passengers in your own bodies, but you were ready to settle down and enjoy it.
@idesofrevolution sent a pic of him and his boyfriend at the gym and this is my response. Your move, Frost ;) Good boys will go check out his Ko-fi.
I tossed my ginger curls out of my face, looking up at the fellow detainee across from me. ‘Red...’ such a dumb fuckin’ line, everyone drops it thinking they’re the cleverest person in the room. I have red hair, hardy har, so people call me Red, tee hee, give me a break.
He’s short, maybe a hair over 5’6”, but a fireplug of a man. Sure, darker blonde, but a fireplug. Even in his baggy clothes, I could tell that he was pretty beefy, like in a got a little too into juicing after high school kind of way.
“What’ll it be, Yellow…” I mumbled back.
He shoots me a weird look. I mime at my hair. He narrows his eyes and shakes away the confusion.
"Give me 50 pounds!"
I shot him an even weirder look than he gave me, and he just gestured back and forth to me and himself excitedly, with both of his wrists tied together with the thick, industry standard zip ties that the pigs always carry around by the dozen at protests.
“What?”
“Jss—Fuckin’ give me 50! I’ll get us outta here!”
“… Pounds.”
“Yeah, c’mon!”
I scoffed, “You can eat 50 lbs of shit.”
“Dude, just—ARGH, just say it, man! Trust me! You can spare it, you’re a big dude! Look, I promise I’ll get us out of here.”
He wasn’t wrong, I probably weighed the same as him. Sure, on a frame easily half a hoot taller than him, but I’ve paid my dues at the alter of vain size building. Anything to at least minimize the amount of ginger jokes I had to endure in school. Thanks a lot, South Park… Wait, 50 lbs of…?
“50 lbs of what then?”
“You, dude! Muscle, size! C’mon dude, we gotta be quick!”
Great, stuck in holding, again, with another horny tweaker, again. It’s like I’m a magnet for this type of shit.
“You want 50 lbs of muscle from me, huh? What, you’re gonna Superman your way outta here?”
“W—I mean, kinda,” he chuckled and shrugged as I rolled my eyes with a grin. I had to admit, Yellow was charming, in a dorky, too much adrenaline kind of way. “And ‘our’ way outta here, man!… C’mon, I’ll give it right back! Trust me, like, we were at the same protest, we’re already on the same team?”
I chuckled behind my grin, “Even you gotta admit that turned into a little more than a protest.”
He shrugged again behind a smirk, “No justice, no peace.”
I outwardly laughed this time. I scratched my knee with my wrists bound together, feeling my forearm graze against the slight chub I was forming. This guy’s clearly got a few screws loose but his charisma was undeniable. Was it because he was built to exactly my type? Whatever, may as well play along, we were likely going to be spending the next few hours together in holding.
He caught me studying him, and opened his palms upwards and raised his eyebrows in a game show host imitation.
I snorted, “Fine, Yellow. You can have 50 lbs of my muscle. Now, how a—!”
My breath caught in my throat and my jaw shot open as I sucked a whooping gasp, my fists clenching and my shoulders tensing up, my abs knotted up and my hips thrusted forward like I was yanked by lasso.
The moment the words left my mouth, I was instantly, fully, throbbingly rock hard. My dick was pulling like an iron rod towards him, making my sweats tent in a way I didn’t know the fabric was capable of handling. In my dizzy, star-spangled vision, I could see the same was true for Yellow. He was similarly tensed and flexed, but smiling widely and dumbly with droopy orgasmic eyes and seemed to be experiencing it much more relaxed way than I was.
He panted quietly, “Don’t worry, dude, it’s just the connection being made, you’re gonna love th—HOOOOOO!!”
It must have hit him the same moment it hit me—it felt like a massive, pillowy, slobbering set of lips smooched down onto my mushroom head, tightly forced itself down the length of my shaft, and began thirstily sucking me off! I continued with my shuddering gasps as he gritted his teeth and hissed with his eyes pinched shut, shushing me as he did, so as to… what? Not alert the pigs making calls and typing up reports? I felt like I was going zero to ten in seconds, on the very verge of busting!
Then as I was gonna bust, the wildest sensation imaginable hit me. It felt like thick, oozing, orgasmic energy like mound after mound of warm, lubricated meat was being sucked directly out of my shaft. I looked down at the throbbing tent in my sweats to get an eye of what was happening, but I would only see my mushroom head flaring over and over again, catching an eye of Yellow’s doing the same through the fabric of his pants.
As the energy shot out of my shaft towards him, I could feel what could only be described as levitating. It felt like my body was becoming lighter and lighter and lighter, with pulse after orgasmic pulse. I rolled my eyes back with lustful, dumb laughter, feeling like I could float away. With each pulse, I could feel my clothes breathing gusts of air out around my neck, arms, waist, and feet as they settled loosely on my smaller frame. As I felt my height shrink considerably, I looked down with a dumb giggle as I watched my cock throb, then thin, throb, then shorten, throb, throb, throb, then—
I pinched my eyes shut and yelped involuntarily as finally came. And came. Shit, and came some more! I swear to god I’d never had an orgasm last as long as it did. Plus, judging by the warm soupy feeling in my boxer briefs, I shot more than I think I ever had!
Then—and at this point I knew I had to be going insane—because then? Yellow was… changing.
He kept his breaths heavy but his volume low as I watched his entire body pulse, and pulse. With each consecutive pulse, his stature stretched taller, his frame stretch wider, and—
“Hhuurrrrrnnnnngg…” he arched his back with a gurgling, euphoric growl, clearly also involuntary, since he’d been such a nag about our volume, as he continued to pulse like a giant heart, only this time his muscles appeared to be joining in on the action. They swelled thicker and broader under his increasingly tightening clothes, the ones that were seconds ago basically hanging on him like a tent, making them audibly stretch and become deliciously tighter. I heard the leather of his boots creak and I watched as they appeared to inflate from within as his thighs and claves rounded with size. He gurgled again as his torso, chest, and abs widened and grew and his throat thickened, making each button down his henley pop, pop… pop pop pop down to reveal his chiseled cleavage.
He seemed to hurry now, his breath quickening, as he rushed his bound hands down to his buckle. As he did, his job was made more difficult by his expanding, bulging arms, each snaking with angry chords of veiny muscle, as he frantically undid his belt. He threw his too-tight zipper down, quickly dug in, and liberated his throbbing boyfriend cock. Ah, so he clearly knew what was coming—the sexy fucker could’ve at least warned me.
“MMMPFF, MMPF, MMMNuuhh…” he lightly moaned behind tight lips as I watched his dick bloom outwards and upwards, encouraged by his bucking hips, lifting higher and thicker into the air like a flower searching for sun, until he—! He gasped in a quick breath as he leaned over, making his bench groan under his new weight, as he erupted thick squirting volleys of cum onto the floor adjacent to us.
Splat, splat, splat, splat, splat… Splat. I watched each load shoot out of him in disbelief. Both obviously at the quantity and also what had just been shared—or exchanged—between us in… Well shit, now that the haze from my orgasm was clearing, it couldn’t have been more than 10 seconds since those last words left my lips to now! Now we were both left in a panting fog, the room saturated with our stink, as he finally started to tuck away his fresh donkey dick.
He glanced over at the splatters on the floor he’d made, “Sorry about that,” he muttered, struggling to zip up his pants. “Didn’t want to… y’know, soak my shorts.” He nodded at my sweats—not overtly soaked themselves but threatening to start showing signs, if my overflowing briefs were any indication—and laughed a bit, wincing as he slowly forced his zipper up, doubtlessly strangling his now-sizable package.
I huffed out a laugh along with him, “What—..” I swallowed dryly, hearing the cracks in my voice. “What did you d—?”
“No time, we gotta bounce,” he grinned with a rich, cocky baritone.
He stood up. And up, and up, towering over his former stature. Yellow’s face pinched with effort as I watched his arms flex angrily.
“RRRNNnngg,” Yellow grunted with an animalistic huff. I swear I could hear his guns tightening like rope! With a sharp “NTCCHuuuh…” and an accompanying defeated *SNIP!* the industrial strength zip tie broke like it was made of cheap plastic. He looked down at where it’d landed and glanced back up at me with another cocky grin.
“Well shit,” I remarked with a chuckle, panting out the last of my exhaustion from my sudden transformation. He popped his firm pecs with that cocky grin as he kneeled towards me.
He sniffed as he leaned in, “Woof! You really made a mess didn’t you?” He grinned up at me, slipping a finger then two under my zip ties. I must’ve blushed a little at the comment, because he chuckled back up at me, “No sweat Red,” He tilted his head back to the creamy puddle on the floor. We both huffed a laugh.
My “cuffs” had loosened from the transformation quite a bit. Still not enough to slip out of, but enough for him to slip two of his thick fingers through. He grunted again and pulled until mine snapped too. He tossed mine to the floor with his and held out a hand to help me up from the bench. I accepted and he lifted me up, making me bounce on me feet a little once
I felt… Hell, I looked pretty sick actually! Had a little bit of the look I remember when I was going straight into undergrad! Minus the nubbier but wickedly more sensitive hog I was now sporting. Used to get laid constantly back then, at least way more than now. But now with gig jobs, keeping a steady gym schedule, taking care of my siblings for my deadbeat folks… Who’s got the time? But… fuck! Yellow had really worked his magic… on both of us!
“You just gonna stare?” He snapped me out of it, “Or should we get out of here?”
“Y-you lead, I guess,” holding up my sweats and briefs (being sure to clutch the briefs tightly so none of my spunk dribbled out, couldn’t handle more embarrassment) the with one hand.
He approached the door to our holding room, grateful that it was some cheap office door with a shitty lock, and quickly but forcefully pushed outwards with his boulder-like shoulders. He and I both huffed out a satisfied laugh as it gave with little of his effort, uttering only a small *crack* as the lock gave up its measly effort inside and swung open.
We hurried it to the end of the long corridor of other holding rooms until it T-intersected with another hallway, and we looked both ways. On one end of the connecting hallway, we could hear the click-clacking of keyboards, the cacophony of calls coming through too-old landlines, and the hubbub of the chatter coming from the station’s staff. On the other end, a fire exit door, with the trademark red illuminated EXIT sign over it with the machinery connected to the door that would set off the alarm once the door was opened.
He leaned in to whisper to me, “We’re gonna have to split up once that alarm goes off. You know Francisco’s?”
“The diner?” I replied back. Good old Francisco’s Diner, always there late at night when you need a ton of carbs after a night of binging. “Waaay too well, yeah I know it.”
“Let’s meet up there. 7 o’clock? Gives you about an hour to get more, uh, decent?” He chuckled back at me.
“Fuck you,” I laughed back, “Ain’t my fault I need to clean up.”
“HEY! What the hell you think you’re doing?!”
We both looked down the other end of the hall, where some fatass pig was moving towards us. Both of our hearts jumped.
“Remember, 7 o’clock, Francisco’s!” Yellow grabbed onto me and shoved me in the direction of the door. I stumbled forwards, making my way to the fire exit, looking back behind me to see Yellow give the pig a linebacker’s shove, forcing him to the floor and knocking the wind out of him, then turning to sprint the way I was going.
I pushed out of the fire exit door, momentarily blinded by the afternoon light and deafened by the accompanying ring of the alarm and bolting to the right, out of the parking lot. I only looked back once to see Yellow sprinting out of the building too, laughing out loud as he ran away from the three cops uselessly chasing after him, tripping over themselves. Thankfully with all of their attention on him, the last thing I saw before I turned the corner was him effortlessly hopping the stone fence on the other side of the parking lot.
I continued running—gliding honestly, the lighter size feeling totally abnormal but thrilling—block after block after block, until I made it to the courtyard of my building. What spunk hadn’t dried against my crotch had spilled out of my briefs and down the leg of my sweats creating a sticky, cool sensation. I checked the time on the ornate courtyard clock. 5:45. Still plenty of time to get cleaned up!
Cleaned up, plus a little exploration. Damn, I felt the same way looked: svelte and sexy as hell. My nubby cock was already greedily throbbing before I unlocked my apartment door.
———
The bell hanging above the door of Francisco’s Diner jingled as I walked in (a fashionable 20 minutes late—what the hell, I got, uhh, distracted). Of the things that would’ve fit me in my closet, I settled on a skate brand tank top I hadn’t worn since college and a pair of gym shorts, drawstring tied extra tight. All of it still hung off me, I must’ve looked emaciated.
“Ay, Red!” Yellow waved over at me from one of the booths along the window. He sported an undershirt and vest along with his own pair of gym shorts, except all of his looked way too tight, compared to my way too loose apparel. What a pair we made!
I slid into the booth, grinning and sighing, “Sorry I’m late, I—”
“Had to give it all a test run, huh?” He chuckled into his coffee mug. I shrugged with a grin. “Don’t sweat it! Meee too, man, me too. I only got here like 5 minutes ago.”
“That was crazy how you got us out of there, man. Any trouble?”
“None! Actually, once I was over the fence around the parking lot, they’d basically given up. You?”
“Not at all. Thankfully all of their attention was on you!”
“Not surprised! Can you imagine what a prize it would be for them if they caught all this? I’m lookin’ like fuckin Superman now.”
He punctuated his cocky brag with a tight flex of his guns, bursting with both his and my combined strength.
“Gotta say,” I shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee he’d ordered me. “Looks fucking good on you, dude.”
“Hey, yeah?” He raised an eyebrow with a grin, bouncing his pecs at me. “You’re looking pretty good yourself there, Red.”
We sat for a few moments sipping our mugs, the obvious horny mist between us simmering and the unspoken recognition of each of our hard-ons adding to our admiration of one another’s bodies. I had to admit, Yellow had one me over. Whether it was because of his charm, his solidarity, his magic, or his bod, the short time we’d come to know each other had caused some kind of spark to ignite.
At the moment I was going to quietly ask that we go somewhere more private, he piped up, stretching and arms and back behind him against the booth.
“Well, a promise is a promise. You ready to get your size back?”
I smiled, “That would be great... Wait, here??” I remembered the mess we made at the station. Surely a mom and pop diner like Francisco’s wouldn’t appreciate a display like that in their establishment.
“I think the bathroom might be a better option. After you,” he gestured his arm out of the booth.
I sauntered over to the bathroom located behind the counter of Francisco’s open kitchen, looking back to see if Yellow was following. He’d left a $10 on the table for our coffees plus a generous tip for the staff and was already close behind me. I opened the door to the single use bathroom, while he held the door, slapping my ass inside as we both chuckled.
I heard him click the lock of the door as I turned around, “So how are we gonna d—”
Yellow had me pinned against the sink before I could finish my question, his hard body pressed against me as his lips and tongue danced against mine, pausing only to shuck his vest off with his undershirt, as I lost my tank top. We grinded our bodies together, feeling our hard tools poking into each other’s hips as we made quick work of liberating them from our shorts. Once we were both completely of our clothes, we resumed our intense make out, each of our hands ravenously feeling up the others, gripping firm mounds of muscle here, sliding fingers down cascading backs there…
“I should thank you properly for helping us both out,” Yellow panted.
He forced me down onto the toilet seat by my shoulders, then slid his hands down my torso, then gingerly tugged at my raging nubby boner. I could see that his was a throbbing, eager railroad spike as he knelt down in front of me and leaned in to swirl his tongue around my mushroom head.
“Fucking hell, Yellow, where you been all my life?” I panted with an exhilarated gasp, running my hands through his stiff dirty blonde hair, feeling his head bob up and down on me.
He released me with a sucking *pop* and grinned up at me, “I’m Doug, by the way. Douglas, but call me Doug.” He continued his greedy assault on my cock while I gasped a few more orgasmic breaths.
“C-Curtis. I’m Curtis,” we both laughed, having only just exchanged names while his mouth was around my dick. His deep laughter reverberated splendidly inside of his mouth against my leaking glans, stuffing his mouth with my pre, without a doubt.
Releasing me once more, he looked up at me. “Hey?”
“Yeah what’s up?”
“You can have your 50 pounds back, Curtis,” he grinned then quickly buried his face back into my crotch.
It happened just as quickly and just as intensely as it did the first time. I felt the same electrifying jolt of energy shoot through me, making me groan and arch my back as I felt waves of pleasure crash into me. Now fully nude, I could see the transformation affect both of us with delicious clarity. I watched my perspective grow taller and taller, seeing and feeling my legs, arms, and torso stretch back to their normal size. “Fuuuuck yeeeeaaah,” I couldn’t help but moan as I watched my arms, legs, thighs, pecs, feet, hands, abs, fucking everywhere, throb and swell with dull, increasing pressure, flexing everything as my size returned to me. Then, feeling my balls pulse and sag, I dropped my hands to his head, gripping fistfuls of his hair, as I animalistically bucked into his mouth, feeling my meat throb, lengthen, throb, thicken, throb, lengthen, throb, thicken, deeper and deeper and deeper into Doug’s throat. He gripped my rounded, swelling ass as I gripped his head, finally feeling the dam burst as I flooded his guts with another massive serving of my seed, only causing him to gag just a few times, but still swallowing it all like a champ.
Both of us gasping with exhaustion, he stood up, his cock appearing to do some king of hiccuping motion as it shrank back. He was still shrinking in intermittent spurts, his arms deflating back to their respectable size, his pecs receding back to their typically sized mounds, his arms and legs dwindling back to their normality as he shook them out. His stature had diminished back to his short king height, and I could tell my the quickening of his cock’s hiccuping motions that the last part was coming. I reached out with both hands to tug his shrinking tool and massage his balls, hearing him whine/moan as his hips bucked with my motions. Very soon after, he erupted several copious volleys at me, splattering against my arms, my pecs, and my upper chest.
He collapsed onto me with exhaustion, his thick thighs and massive ass resting on top of my thighs, both of us panting in the orgasmic fog we’d created as he leaned his smaller self against my larger. His seed squished between our heaving, panting chests as he and I wrapped arms around each other to make out again.
Doug was unlike anyone I’d ever been with… Shit, by a long shot. And it’s crazy how much, though unspoken, he and I were both into this whole size play thing. Hell, I could spend way more time yo-yo’ing with him, seeing how big we could really make him. Creating a gym schedule with him so we could both add more mass to ourselves and go even crazier with this gift of his. Tricking assholes to loan him some of their size so he could turnaround and dump it all into me.
As we made out more in the bathroom of Francisco’s Diner, the whole room reeking of our sex and humid with our effort, I knew that our unlikely but fortuitous relationship was only just beginning.
I’m really happy my roommate finally moved on from his toxic ex and is hanging out with some new friends, but I’m worried they’re a bad influence. Ever since he started hanging with them he’s gone from a sweet guy with a six step skin care routine to a cocky asshole who as he says is “embracing his natural smell”. I swear his friends are into latex or something because every time he comes back from hanging with them he smells like it and crazy enough I swear he squeaks too…
You stare at Nick from across the room, rolling your eyes as he takes yet another selfie of his new and improved form. Sweat drips from his mop like hair and onto his smooth, shiny skin. Ever since he left Randy, and thank god he did, he’s found a much needed respite in the local gym. He even found a couple of new friends, which of course you’re thrilled about. Seeing him so down and in the dumps for four weeks had you worried about Nick, but ever since the day he walked in through the door with those two giant dudes he met doing CrossFit he had a pep in his step and such a confidence boost. Cooper and Tre had doubled his size and musculature in a matter of days, which to you seemed impossible; but you were too happy for his blooming that you dismissed it as a successful CrossFit regimen.
And yet, this version of Nick that Cooper and Tre had brought out in him was something that gave you a bit of pause. For one, the smell. Showers started to be skipped a couple of times per week, clothes started to be reused time and time again at the gym… Clothes, as well, were being replaced faster than you could keep up with. Nick’s funky, colorful wardrobe had all but been emptied and replaced with athletic wear, sweats, and stringer tanks. You started to recognize your friend less and less. Standing there shirtless, in nothing more than his stinking gym shorts and rank socks, you couldn’t help but worry about him.
That isn’t to say he isn’t your friend anymore- he still laughs and jokes with you, albeit his humor is dirtier and more crass, but it’s good natured. He still goes out with you to the bars and plays wing man, though he does find himself in the bathroom with various hunky men more often than you’d like. He still happily hangs out and games with you on the weekends, though you have to light a couple of candles in the living room to drown out his scent. His scent… that heavy, buttery musk of sweat and unwashed laundry, with a hint of… oddly, fresh latex.
“Yo! Bro, I’m tellin’ you, you gotta come chill with Coop and Tre. Look at this shit!” Nick flexes his tatted arm, the fresh ink from a day or two prior glistens brightly atop the firm bicep. The gentle squeak of his shiny skin not going unnoticed by you.
“Sure man,” you fib, “sounds good.” Your disinterest in hanging with the two brain dead jocks shone through the lies. Nick sees this, the squishing sound of his socks echo in the bedroom as he walks over to you.
“Well, good! Tre is on his way over! Thought we could crack some beers and watch the game.” The game? The gym is one thing, you can wrap your head around the almost therapeutic experience of turning off your brain and just doing simple movements. But football? You raise your eyebrow.
“Since when have you liked football? You hate football.” Nicks face cracks ever so slightly, the first time you know intrinsically you touched on something he didn’t anticipate you to catch. Before he’s able to stutter out some form of reasoning, the knock on the front door saves Nick from your questioning.
“Oh shit, that’s him!” Nick dumbly chuckles to himself and squeaks out of the now ripe bedroom, his stench lingering in the air. You sigh, closing your eyes to take one or two deep breaths. Another smelly dude bro- delightful. The sound of the door opening, and a jovial ‘whassup bruh’ breaks your centering ritual. You stand up and approach the door, only barely hearing the quiet whispering of the two before you enter into the living room- the sight of Tre’s 6’2” jacked body greeting you.
“Whassup, my dude?” Tre’s shirtless form takes you aback, his muscles glistening just like Nick’s. Tre has always been a nice guy, relaxed and always down to kick back and just hang; even if he takes his sneakers off and fogs out the room with his cheesy foot smell, he had been nothing but kind to you. You have no reason to dislike or distrust him, and yet, here you are. You smile with a feigned civility, waving at him. Nick struts over to the kitchen and pulls out three Pacificos for you- one very clearly already opened before he pops the caps off the other two as if you hadn’t noticed.
“Let’s get comfy, boys!” Nick chimes and walks over to hand you your beer as you watch with exasperation as Tre kicks off his Jordans, the scent immediately hitting you like a train. The three of you clink your bottles together, and take a swig. At least, you certainly do. In the periphery of your sight, you see the two of them watch you for a split second before sipping their drinks as well. Nick throws his arm around you, the slickness of his skin immediately reminding you of the feeling of lubed latex as he guides the three of you to the couch, plopping down on it like sacks of potatoes.
Tre flicks his thumb against the remote, the game immediately coming onto your television as if it were playing just before it was last turned off. You continue to sip your beer, your eyes darting between Tre on your right and Nick on your left, both screaming and cheering with every goal. More and more you find that you don’t know Nick anymore, or at least who Tre and Cooper turned him into. An hour passes before halftime finally comes to pass, your Pacifico all but empty at this point. Finally, Nick turns to you, smiling as he sees you couch locked and borderline drunk. It was one drink, how are you feeling so goddamned weird?
“You need another one, bro?” Nick pokes your arm, which you feel compress and collapse against his finger. In the right state of mind, this would have obviously concerned you, but nearly unable to speak, you can do little more than shake your head no. “Yo, Tre. I think it’s setting in.” Nick’s face is bright and elated as he and Tre high five eachother before hopping onto their feet.
“Shit, bruh that didn’t take long at all. Not gonna lie, Coop. I didn’t think you’d be able to pull it off. You good in there?” You furrow your brow in confusion at Tre’s words until Nick slips his fingers into his mouth, pulling firmly until his face starts to peel away like a mask- squeaking and slurping until the face of Cooper beneath is revealed.
“Yeah man, feels amazing like always. Nicks’s givin me all the info I need. Only slipped up once!” The two jocks bump knuckles, before Cooper slithers his way out of Nick’s rubbery body. His feet slap against the floor, as Nick’s face snaps back to normal. Your eyes are open in horror and shock, before Nick shakes his head and reopens his eyes, grinning from ear to ear.
“Fuck yah, bro! Worked like a charm!” Cooper helps Nick to his feet, and the trio of jocks stand before you, their arms crossed and standing wide. “Fuck, man you’re gonna love this shit. I can’t keep hiding this shit from you and not share it!” You watch frozen, unable to move, feeling your body go limp and light as Nick and Cooper walk over to the couch and plop down on either side of you. “Bro, after Randy, I was ready to jump off the balcony. Then these motherfuckers found me at the gym and promised they’d be able to help me. Now look!” Nick flexes his arm, before grabbing his smelly foot and pulling on it. The meaty leg stretches longer and longer, the squeaks of his skin growing into warps until it snaps right back to normal. “What do you guys think? A month? Maybe two?”
“Sounds good, bro. It’ll be good to have you with us, bruh. You’ll be feelin better in no time.” With Tre’s words echoing in your head, you feel Cooper push you head back, letting it rest on the back of the couch before his and Nick’s fingers slip into the corners of your mouth. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull as they stretch it wider and wider, joking about how stretchy you are already. Tre walks around to the back of the couch and looks down at you, his left hand slipping into your wet, tight throat. “Let’s goooo!”
Tre shouts, removing his hand from your throat before gripping either end of the couch, swinging those huge smelly feet above your open maw. It happens quick and easy. The stench of his socks only lingers for one second before they slide across your tongue, the grimy texture making them slide down your throat quickly. His massive body slides inside of you with ease- the outline of his thick legs sliding beneath the skin of your chest and torso. The wet squelches and rubbery squeaks increase in frequency and intensity, as his ripe bulge and thick ass slips into you, your neck bulging wide as you feel his feet squeeze into yours. The skin stretches taut over his size 14’s, and your legs burst with his muscles within.
“Ay, a lil help, bro?” Tre stands up onto your feet, your wide mouth sits suctioned around his lean waist- the salty flavor of his sweat soaked balls sitting on your tongue filling your mouth with his flavor. Coop and Nick jump up as Tre raises his arms up, taking ahold of your ears in their fingers. Slowly, they tug up on your head, encasing his cobbled abs and meaty pecs within your body. You taste the ripe sweat in his wiry pits before his arms slide downward into your mouth, squeezing them deep within you until his fingers are just able enter your shoulders.
“Aight, bro! Pull!” Nick shouts loudly, and in seconds they pull your your head upward even further. You feel Tre’s arms squeeze into your own, and with a single roll of his shoulders, his hands slip into yours like gloves. You see Nick smile with genuine excitement as he pulls your your head over the back of Tre’s, tugging more and more until it snaps over his with a loud crack. You anticipated losing control, fading into black, lost in the ether… you couldn’t be more wrong.
“Ahh shit, lemme just…” Tre’s deep voice bellows out of your mouth, but deep in your mind you hear it as well. “Excuse the reach, bro. One sec.” He plunges your hands into your shorts, and you can feel his monstrous rod slipping and sliding around in your torso. He pulls on your skin, watching it stretch until his tip lines up with the base of your shaft. You’d moan if you could, feeling Tre’s slippery cock filling your own like rolling on a condom. He grunts as it distends your dick to match his 11 inches, his thick balls dropping into your sac with a wet schlorp. Tre stretches in your body, making sure everything is where it needs to be while Nick and Coop grab more beers.
“How… why…. How are you doing this?” Your voice echoes loudly around you. It doesn’t go unanswered, as your body plops right back down onto the couch, swollen with Tre’s musculature. He kicks your feet up onto the coffee table, his ripe foot funk now wafting from your soles.
“Heh, it’s a trip, right?” His voice booms in your head. “Just a lil thing my friend from New Orleans taught me once. Feels good, too.” Nick and Coop drop down onto the couch with a beer for ‘you.’ He takes it with your hand, unfamiliarly large and vascular. “Just sit back and relax, bruh. Let Tre show you how it’s done.” Your three bros clink their beers together, as you’re left to watch out of your eyes as they talk about how dope you’re gonna be.
———
Two months came and went, Tre took a bit longer inside you than had been planned- you two really bonded with him in the drivers seat. The way he swaggered down the street in your body, the way your rubbery skin glistened with his sweat, the musk that flowed from your feet, pits, and balls… you’ve grown to love it. You two talked almost every minute of every day within your mind, the feeling of having a bro with you at all times felt good and safe.
Feeling the thrill of lifting over 200 lbs with relative ease, the euphoria of him plunging your cock into dozens of men’s mouths and holes, the fraternal feeling of jacking Nick off in the sauna after a long lifting session, feeling like a sexy king with men and women drooling at your feet over your natural scent… you almost didn’t want Tre to exit you. When he did, it was bittersweet. Coop and Nick helped pry him out of your now jacked, musky fuckboy body, and it almost felt like on you were holding onto him inside of you. The moment he was out, though, your life really began.
You’re closer than ever with Nick, spending hours at the gym and at the clubs with him, fuckin boys and pumping iron. Every day is filled with crazy antics with the boys, Tre and Cooper are over almost every night kicking back with you, the bond unbreaking and unyielding. Just for yucks, you will squeeze into eachother, pranking eachother or just finding it a damn good way to feel close to your bro. In fact, the other day you fucked the shit out of this lil twink inside of Nick. The minute he walks through that door, you got a date tonight with him. You can’t wait to slip him on and use that dick of his, and he can’t wait either.
Darrius frowned at his phone. The mostly empty MARTA car wobbled on its tracks on its way to Midtown. He was meeting a few of his friends for a night on the streets of Atlanta—classes were over, graduation had concluded, and he was looking forward to the night in a whatever-happens-happens kind of way. So the sudden FaceTime ring coming through upset the steady high he was brewing, figuratively and literally.
The fuck was Miguel doing FaceTime’ing him?
Morehouse was known for its considerably large gay population, but Miguel was easily as the head bitch on top, in a manner of speaking. Darrius wasn’t prejudiced, by any means—he and his cousin had jacked off together tons of times through the years, who hadn’t, that shit wasn’t gay—but he couldn’t stand how much Miguel flaunted it all the time. The two of them had shared plenty of classes and Miguel was never shy about the occasional grin + wink. Darrius took a sigh and hit answer.
“What do you want, Migs.” Darrius monotoned in more of a whine than a question.
“‘Migs,’ uucgh, it’s Miguel, cabron, get it right,” Miguel sassed teasingly in his quick Puerto Rican accent. Darrius rolled his eyes as Miguel waggled his finger at him with his quick camera movements.
“Whatchu want Miguel,” Darrius groaned.
“Que impaciente, fine! Hold up.” Miguel changed his camera to his front facing camera and Darrius could see that he was stepping towards his bathroom. The hell was this??
“Hey yooo!” As Miguel stepped into the bathroom he appeared in frame reflected into the bathroom mirror, completely and totally nude. He’d at least had the decency to cover his junk with his other hand, but yeah, full birthday suit.
“Aww, come on, dude! What the fuck?! You really think I—”
“Shhh shh, espera, calm down, check this out,” Miguel tapped on his screen a few times, “Aaaaaaand, mira!” He tapped one more time on his screen.
“UUOOFGH…” Both of the guys huffed out a forceful breath on opposite ends of the call as if they’d been socked in the stomach, but neither felt any pain. Instead, Darrius felt like he’d been sucked into himself a little bit, like his entire frame got a little bit tighter, and a little bit more compact. His vainly snug clothing now felt comfortably loose on him as he looked down on himself to see that these sensations were more than that. He was smaller! Not puny, not his usual ball player size, but definitely many pounds lighter without his hard-earned muscle. And…? His tighter skin looked lighter, too?
He looked back at his phone to see Miguel’s head rolled back in ecstasy, his entire frame blooming outwards with athletic strength and size. “RRNNMMF,” he gurgled/grunted deeply through the phone as he rolled his head back around, his hair lengthened outwards and upwards and his features darkened. His facial hair remained the same but his features morphed and twisted with a shake of his head. It wasn’t more than a few seconds before Darrius pieced together just who exactly he was now looking at: himself.
“Ayyyy, lookin’ good Darrius baby!” Miguel intoned deeply with a waggle of his tongue.
Darrius could see now in his tiny window on screen that he looked exactly like Miguel too!
“Migs, the fuck??!” He hissed in a sharp whisper at his phone, drawing a couple inquiring looks from the fellow passengers, along with a just few double takes from folks close by who were certain they had seen another guy sitting there moments before.
Miguel giggled excitedly on the other end, twisting and turning, getting a load of his new curvaceous angles, “Right?! Que guapoooo, no?” He let loose his hand protecting his modesty and did a saucy, gyrating, Latin step, his—Darrius’s—meat flopping around with his quick sways.
“Miguel, man, I’m serious, how th—the fuck is this?? I’m meeting up with my people tonight, Im out here in public, I’m trying to get my dick wet, I’m supposed to meet my family on Monday, why would y—?!”
“Hey, hey, tranquilo, hombre! I’m just trying to have a lil fun too! Don’t worry, baby! Look, who you seeing tonight? Angela? Krystal?”
Darrius was breathing heavy, angry breaths. He knew the two would be in the group tonight though. He allowed himself a few angry nods of the head.
“Those chicas loooove me, dude! We get along great, even though they want me. Always after mi leche, know what I mean? Fag hags, man, they always want a lil, truth! Go getchu some of that tonight, mano! I bet if you played the game right, you could bag them both at once if you wanted!”
Darrius pondered this through his angry breaths. When he mentioned getting his dick wet, he did have Krystal in mind. Hell, now that Miguel brought her up, Angela would be sick too. He knew that they hung around Miguel always, hung off him really. His mind immediately pictured the three of them fucking in knots on top of sweaty sheets, eating Krystal out while breeding Angela, catching them both off guard by his—oh, WOW, Miguel was packing. He could feel his borrowed hog swelling to obscene turgidity in his designer jeans. He leaned forward to hide its upcurved head from drawing too much attention to his tent.
Miguel must’ve noticed his change in demeanor and interjected, pleased with himself, “Seeee?! Not such bad night after all, huh?” He giggled and brought the camera close to his—again, Darrius’s!—face. “Also, I guess you just realized I’ve got you beat in at least one way, no?”
“Not funny, man. This shit’s still fucked up,” Darrius saved face.
“Still, you’re so fuckin’ STRONGGG, bro! I mean—RRRNNG!” Miguel flexed both his borrowed arms intensely, pursing his lips, lifted them up behind his head and crunched his abs into definition with another deep grunt, put one foot up on his bathroom counter and tugged on his chubbing meat as he popped his pecs a few times.
“Alright, alright, man, that ain’t what I wanna see,” Darrius had calmed down a bit.
“It’s all you, mano! Also, just enjoy the weekend, man! Don’t worry about the familia, bro, I promise I’ll call you back on Sunday and we can get this sorted back out.”
“Fuckin’ better, dude, I swear, I—”
“If you still want to.” Miguel concluded with another cheeky waggle of his tongue for the camera.
“Miguel, seriously, how—?”
“No time, amor, gotta take care of this,” he smacked his borrowed pole against his abs, “Then we both got a biiiiiig weekend ahead, right baby?”
“Migs—!!”
“Ciao, guapito!” Miguel hung up the call, leaving Darrius staring confused back at himself—well, not himself—in his phone’s screen.
What in the holy everloving fuuuuuck, he thought to himself, huffing out a breath and leaning back in his seat, his (frankly massive) tent now subsiding.
He didn’t feel terrible. He didn’t even look terrible, that was at least true. Miguel was right, girls were always hanging off him despite his disinterest in them sexually. He flaunted his looks and kept himself looking tight, like most of the Morehouse gays.
Darrius unlocked his phone—now having to input his code since his facial recognition no longer worked—and looked back at his reflection.
Clean. Svelte. Fresh. Sharp. Runner-muscled. Manicured. Almost pretty.
Hell, he could work with this!
He’d have to let his bros know he’d caught something, hopefully they’d buy it. Should they be surprised by Miguel showing up all the sudden? No, not necessarily. Miguel, as Darrius knew, had friends everywhere. Darrius’s friends may be upset for a moment by his intrusion, but after seeing how well Miguel could hang… after seeing how good of a wingman he could be… after seeing how skillfully Miguel could knock em back… after seeing how touchy-feely he and Angela and Krystal were getting throughout the night… He was sure they’d come around on Miguel in no time.
Darrius rolled his eyes with a sigh, figuring if this was how his weekend was turning out, he might as well roll with it. He started his texts to update his bros, planned his next steps, and scrolled through Angela’s and Krystal’s IG pages again, pawing at his newly well-endowed self greedily.
Hearing the intercom chime indicating his stop, he slipped his phone back into his pocket, adjusted his elephant cock under his waistband, and stepped into the hot, humid, Atlanta night air, his newly-loose clothes billowing in the thick summer breeze.
Late again, AS USUAL, but that’s my brand ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Here’s the one I mentioned a while ago (+ in my last post) that didn’t really start out as but definitely ended up as a sort of Superfood (I & II) prequel. Lmk if you catch when the connection is made 😉 Thank you SO MUCH again for 4k followers!! Hope you enjoy!
———
“What the hell is this place?”
Lance wiped his brow on the loose arm of his flannel and looked around as Samuel followed along closely behind him, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the tail of his button down, exposing his pale skin and the slight paunch all non-athletic twinks eventually grow around their midsection. They had stumbled across a structure in the middle of the woods on the second day of their weeklong hike through a small section of the Appalachian Trail.
The Appalachian Mountains are perhaps the most ancient mountain range in the world; there’s no way to describe how beautiful the nature is, but there’s also no way to describe the unknown, unseen, forbidden things you’re likely to come across buried deep, deep in the woods and sloping, rocky terrain. Places that existed long before the Europeans began their terrible sweep across the continent. Places that existed before any kind of settlement, really. Places that existed even before recorded history. Places, perhaps, like the one the two friends had just stumbled across.
After traveling through a ruined hall and navigating through some overgrown flora, they came into a large, 4-walled room, devoid of a roof and carpeted with moss and other greenery. It’s walls were too sheer and too tall to be naturally formed, and there were glyphs and symbols painted on its surface.
“Far-fucking-ooouuutt,” Samuel marveled, looking around and taking in the natural and unnatural beauty around them. He puffed a heavy hit of one of the spliffs he and Lance were nearly done sharing and passed it back to his friend, taking a few steps further into the structure.
Lance pinched the end of the filter and dragged in what was left of the bud and tossed it to the ground, stepping on it to extinguish the ember, following his friend further into the structure. The roof was missing, letting in a picturesque smattering of sun rays filtered through the light tree canopy overhead.
One word passed through Lance’s mind: idyllic. And it was! He was glad to get out of the city and into nature, he was coasting pretty splendidly on the high he was cooking, and there was a peaceful reverence in the air he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Not to mention, he was enormously happy to be spending time with someone some dear to him.
Both of them were pretty fresh out of college, both stuck at a job they didn’t much care for that didn’t at all pay them enough to live even moderately comfortable lives. In the impoverished hellscape of rural Appalachia, it was leisure activities like hiking, camping, singing, shooting, fishing, playing instruments that gave life any worth living, and Lance and Samuel were committed to such leisure. If only to escape the ennui of unhappy, unfulfilling employment.
He heard Samuel’s foot slip and turned around to catch a glimpse of his friend mid-stumble, but Samuel regained his balance and corrected himself before falling. He flashed a goofy smile and a thumbs up at Lance, who grinned and rolled his eyes, turning back around to continue his own exploring and studying the symbols on the walls.
He’d known Samuel since they were boys; they’d grown up on the same block and played the same games and shared the same interests. As both of them were the only-children of their respective families, each other was the closest thing either of them would have to a brother. Yeah, Lance loved Samuel in his own way, perhaps even more than loved. Samuel could say the same, but it was an unspoken thing between each other. Their church-going, conservative families were likely to be unsupportive and react strongly. Plus, why complicate a good thing with romance?
“Hey, check this out,” Samuel called from the center of the structure. Lance made his way over and saw what Samuel was looking at: an overgrown, chalk-adorned altar. In the middle of the chalk ring dotted with runes and glyphs sat a collection of little figures and shapes made of twigs and mud.
Lance leaned in to get a closer look at the ruined setup, trying unsuccessfully to decipher what could be written. What made him think he could read it in the first place? It’s not like he had even an iota of knowledge about the occult—if this even was occult in nature. He had to guess it had something to do with the typical ancient witchcraft techniques and their purposes. Guaranteeing a healthy harvest. Warding off evil. Offering to the gods. Inciting certain weather patterns. Fertility.
However, scattered around the circle were a collection of clay jars and bottles, some corked with stoppers and some the looked like they had been left open 100 years ago.
In the center of all of it was a large, glass jar, about as tall as a bankers tube and about as wide as one too. It looked to be a kind of mason jar, with the flat piece covering the opening and a top that was heavily sealed with wax. However, the jar was opaque, with what looked to be moss and mud lining its sides. He didn’t know whether it was because of the way the light was shining through the canopy or if it was a trick of the eye, but he could swear that there was something illuminated or glowing within, mostly obscured by debris inside.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Samuel quoted Alice in Wonderland, butchering a high-pitched English accent. He chuckled and propped himself up on his knees into an upright position. Lance picked up the large jar in the center and turned it around in his hands, inspecting it further.
“You think people still come here? Looks like this place hasn’t been touched in a millennium.” Samuel asked, looking around some more, half expecting to see some kind of booby trap set up that he and Lance could’ve triggered on their way in. The place had that kind of energy: a fascinating, ethereal otherworldliness mixed with a forbidden, foreboding sacredness. He felt somehow simultaneously honored and warily anxious to be inside the structure.
“Who knows?” Lance responded, still looking closely at the jar. “I’ve heard so many weird ass stories about what goes on in these mountains, it’s hard to say what’s verifiable and what’s not.”
“True, true,” Samuel responded absentmindedly, trying to match Lance’s bookishness. He always was the nerdier of the two.
Samuel began to turn around but suddenly lost his footing on a slope he hadn’t seen due to the floral overgrowth. “FFFfffuu—!!” He barked as his arms pinwheeled wildly trying to find footing. In the second and a half it took for him to lose his footing, Samuel crashed down into the underbrush at an awkward angle, landing on and twisting his ankle.
“ARRGGHH!! Fuck!” Samuel cried out, bringing his knee up to his chest and wrapping his hands around it, keeping his ankle hovering. Just from a half-second glance and the awkward angle of his limb, Lance could see that it must’ve hurt Samuel to move his ankle at all.
“Sam—!!” Lance moved quickly to stand but dropped the jar from his hands, shattering on the ground. “Shit!” he hissed as he knelt to recover the damage. He quickly hunched over the shards and debris inside not a moment after it had shattered, trying to scoop the mess back together.
Suddenly, from the broken mess, a plume of pinkish-red, glowing, fuzzy orbs wafted into the air around Lance’s face. One word flashed through his mind with blinding, code-red alarm before he could even comprehend what was happening: SPORES. Before he could react, he gasped and inhaled nearly all of the spore cloud that had burst from the jar, while some others floated to the ground and dissipated into the soil.
Lance coughed and swatted the air in front of his face and wiping at his upper lip, attempting to brush away any of the remaining spores around his airspace, but all had drifted into his nasal passage. It smelled strong and earthy, botanical and perfumed, flowery and slightly musky. It smelled… actually, it smelled fuckin’ good.
He continued coughing a little bit, sniffling and breathing heavily, wiping his face obsessively. He didn’t feel ill or like he was being harmed, but it was as though something had lit a fuse to his senses. His nasal passage seemed to dilate extremely wide, his sinuses clearer than they had ever been and smelling scents he couldn’t remember smelling before. His entire body felt jittery, numb, and excited, like he’d pounded a massive Red Bull and full canister of pre-workout, noticeably trembling and shaking. His eyes had widened like dinner plates, and he looked around in delighted awe as his eyes caught the light in ways he’d never before experienced, not even during legendary weekend music fest drugged-out benders with Samuel and their mutual friends nearly every summer. The light mingled and danced in his vision and the colors seemed to swim and stand out more vividly.
Still on his hands and knees, the vibrating in Lance’s appendages started to intensify, and he dug his fingers into the soil while he was racked with tingling energy. While his fingers sank into the dirt, Lance felt something utterly unreal and completely extraordinary. It felt as though the tips of his fingers were.. drinking—probably the best way he could put it—from the earth. It was like his fingers had become straws sucking something from the earth and feeding it into his body. Looking down, with his mysteriously enhanced eyesight, this was confirmed as he watched throbbing, slow-moving, slightly-glowing pulses moving through his fingers, through the veins in his hands, up the veins in his arms, and into his chest. He could feel it spreading within him. He could feel it mingling with the rest of his anatomy. He could feel it fucking everywhere.
Lance took in a long, sharp, shuddering inhale with a wide grin plastered on his face. “¡¡Ayyyyyy benditooooo…!!” He groaned deeply as he arched his back and chuckled slightly. He could feel something monumental coming.
Samuel’s face was still contorted in abject pain and agony at his twisted limb, but he curiously noted Lance’s change in demeanor. He propped himself up on his elbows, still panting in pain, “Lance??”
be freakier, be kinkier, be louder, be gayer, be more colorful, hoist the freak flag higher, lean into your queerness, lean on each other, lift up your neighbors, become more outspoken, and do so with so much love and kindness and gratitude and service to those closest to you
because I for one will be goddamned if I'll let a demonstrable minority of a bunch of "male loneliness epidemic" vitamin D-deficient fascist brownshirt larp-er fucks and their ilk convince the world that we (the royal "we," the community "we," our queer and trans family "we," the overwhelming majority of good people in this country "we") are anything less than the best
so chin up, find your mutual aid network, volunteer for community service, organize, leave the festering cesspool of electoral politics behind, and return to community. we're gonna be alright, love y'all
for all you dl/trade/perhaps-still-closeted folks following me who have bought into the cruelty and soullessness of this moment (I see you, I know your profiles, I notice every time you engage), there’s something I need to hold your hands and tell you because it’s uncomfortable but it’s important:
they will never love you, they will never accept you.
to them, you will always be the unfortunate, immoral creature that they will only ever tolerate because you’re playing the role of the useful idiot in perpetuating their shared delusion of blood and soil, misogynistic, hateful bullshit rat poison.
no matter how many times you play the cheerleader for them, and no matter how many times they pat you on the back like you’re one of their own because you happen to be one of the “good ones,” one of the “normal ones,” you will always find yourself in their periphery. they’ll never fully see you as someone worthy of love.
you’re part of the family, whether you like it or not. and no matter what they tell you or what you tell yourself to satiate that pit of self-hatred you’re experiencing, being part of this family is a blessing, not a curse.
and it’s one of the strongest, most protective families you’ll ever know. once you deprogram and stop talking shit on/hurting other members of the family, you’ll be welcomed back like the prodigal son returned. love yourself and love who you are and love your family, because we love you and—for a lot of us, maybe even you some day—we’re all we’ve got.
be freakier, be kinkier, be louder, be gayer, be more colorful, hoist the freak flag higher, lean into your queerness, lean on each other, lift up your neighbors, become more outspoken, and do so with so much love and kindness and gratitude and service to those closest to you
because I for one will be goddamned if I'll let a demonstrable minority of a bunch of "male loneliness epidemic" vitamin D-deficient fascist brownshirt larp-er fucks and their ilk convince the world that we (the royal "we," the community "we," our queer and trans family "we," the overwhelming majority of good people in this country "we") are anything less than the best
so chin up, find your mutual aid network, volunteer for community service, organize, leave the festering cesspool of electoral politics behind, and return to community. we're gonna be alright, love y'all
“And bigger…? J-Jeez, dude, what’s gotten into you…”
“I dunno, man.. delayed pump? It was lookin’ sick though, right?”
“Oookay, Jin, take it easy, I said I’d help you out with recording but—”
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just—UU-OOhhh—oh, Kai a-are you ffffff-UUGH-uh-kin’ SEEING THIS??”
“WOAH… dude c-c’mon, chill, you’re gonna—”
“Why would I sssssssSSTOP this, bro?!”
“Quit flexing! It’s speeding the—and your fucking voice! And the—your, uh… your… wow…”
“AAWWRRGGH ffffuuck yeah man, look how thick my meats getting man.. SSSorry, I know you don’—UUGGHH—t swing that was but—FUCK you can’t imagine what this ffff-feels like…”
“It—It’s—you’re… still getting bigger.. Y-your balls…”
“Fffffffffuuuck—UUHHNF—ooohh god that was a bbIIIIIIgg one…”
“… Tore your shorts and s-snapped your j-jock, Jin…”
“Fffuck, It’s like I’m pissing this shit…”
“All that pre…”
“Dude.. feel me… G-GRRRROWWW with me…”
“I—I mean, I wish…”
“UURNGH—oooh, fuck, dude I w-*buuurrrpp*-wish you could t-toooOOOOOO, mmnnnhhooooyeaahh…”
“UUGGH! Nasty dude, that’s fucking rank..”
“Excuse me! MMNNFFF!!…”
“Gross… smells like..”
“YYYYYEEEAAAHHhhh, it does—RRNG!!—You think that’s what did it? That energy drink? That rando on the floor was h-hhhAAANDING OUT—FUCK!!”
“Goddamn, you’re gonna burst through this place!”
“Mmmff, that’d be so fuckin, hot.”
“F-For real…”
“… You wanna—mmfffuckyeeaah—grow with me, dude?”
“I—Well… Yeah, bro, I kinda do…”
“… Then why don’t you ggggnnff—go crack open that can in your bag, bbbrRROOO—FUCK—or are those drinks still ‘sooo bad for your overall health?‘”
“I think I can make exceptions…”
“That’s what I’m tttALLLKIN’ bout, dude.”
“Let’s see what this bod can do!”
“Strip down, Kai.. I wanna feel you fuckin’ all over me while you beef up, dude, grow with me, bro, get ready…”
“Bottoms up!”
“Fuckin’ right.”
———
Scrolled across this pic👇on the dash right before this reblog and the mind couldn’t help but wander 🤪 Thanks for the inspo, @swollenmuscles!
Hey I really miss your stories!! Have anything in the works? Doin alright? Big fan
Hey! Sorry I’ve been deep in a dry spell story-wise, like a year in the making almost 😅 It’s mostly writers block but also irl obligations… To answer your questions though, yes! I’ve actually been working on something real fun for a while (was actually meant to be a 6k follower post but I passed that like 300 followers ago 🤕 feeling slightly like a fraud lol). It’s over halfway there so hopefully it’ll see the light of day soon. I have several quickies I’ve been halfheartedly working on in the chambers after that, so hopefully once it’s out it’ll follow with a couple freaky lil guys!
And yeah I’ve been alright thanks! And side from all the irl business and working on bettering myself journey and shit… pretty alright.
😘 And omg thanks a million babe! What’s your fav story?
After trying some vintage candy Eddie finds himself rushing into the life of his dreams, with a the man of his dreams to boot! Sweet bearification/age progression!
Bit of a long one but I quite enjoyed writing it! Hope it's not too saccharine for y'all! As always, hope you all enjoy! -Occam
It was Eddie’s first day off in a few weeks. He doesn’t really mind the hours but working in an office has been a little less than fulfilling for him. Quite the recluse, he was originally planning on just staying in on his day off but his friend from work, Tony, encouraged him to explore town. He acquiesce, for nothing else than hopefully having something new to talk about with Tony when he’s back at work, secretly hoping that taking his friend’s advice could lead to something a little more exciting between the two of them.
Looking around the town square he’s immediately bored, seeing almost entirely places he’s already written off in the time he’s lived in the city. Eddie doesn’t want to go daydrink or buy some new clothes and he’s already kicking himself in the leg for forgetting that he hasn’t gone out in some time for a reason. Right before he calls it a day and returns home to hop on some video game he sees something new and alluring: The Olde Candy Shoppe.
It looks quite out of place, like a mom and pop shop shoved in between newer developments. Eddie stares in disbelief unsure how he could have possibly missed the anomaly before now, he’s been here before and is almost certain that it has not. Though by all appearances it seems far and away to be the oldest building in the square. He digs deep trying to recall any friends mentioning a candy shop in town and comes up blank. Sighing he decides to push no further, obviously the building is there so there’s no sense at all to go crazy about it. Beside that, the longer he spends thinking on it he realizes he could certainly do with a sugary pick-me-up.
Eddie enters the candy shop and any edge or nerves remaining were left at the door. The atmosphere was immediately soothing and warm, sweet but not cloying. The cool white light filters through aged windows and bathes everything with the yellow warmth of perpetual twilight. Looking around the shop Eddie just feels at home, he sets to browsing the aisles when he hears a loud deep voice shout, “Welcome in lad! Glad to have ya!” Quickly removed from whatever reverie he was in, Eddie turns to find a man otherworldly. Masculine like a grandfather, the giant would seem more at home at Santa’s workshop than the city center in which his store sits.
Eddie simply stares at the man who quickly laughs before putting a hand on his hip and walking over, “You know it’s impolite to stare young man, Hah Hah!” His whole body bounces as he laughs and Eddie closes his agape mouth, not even realizing it had fallen open. He tries to speak but stumbles over his words as he massive man comes to pat him on the back, “What can I do ya for lad?” Eddie swallows hard and finds his caught tongue, “Oh, ah well, I’m just looking around I suppose. Sorry-” The bear of a man laughs heartily once more before continuing, “Well I’m certain you’ll find exactly what yer lookin’ for. Ya just shout if ya need anythin’!” With that he goes off to organize the racks behind the counter, leaving Eddie to his own devices.
While never on his A-Game in social situations, Eddie is absolutely gobsmacked at how off he was talking to the man. It’s almost like when someone way out his league flirts with him, but Eddie’s never been the type to go for men so, wizened. He blushes as he thinks about that man in such a light and promptly focuses his mind on the merchandise to prevent any further embarrassment. Attention drawn to the shelves Eddie finds sweets familiar and novel, something in the back of his mind tells him that anything he could ever possibly want rests somewhere in the labyrinth of crowded candy aisles.
He wanders around for quite a while, unaware or apathetic to the passage of time, every so often picking up a treat he knows he likes only to put it down in pursuit of something better, something out there calling to him. The stairs creak as he meanders up to the equally cluttered second floor of the candy shop. Reaching the top he turns to look out across the open aisles, bereft of other customers. The square was bustling when he was wandering outside and yet he hasn’t heard the bell on the door jingle once since he’s entered. As soon as the thought enters his mind a saccharine smell overloads his senses and he shakes it off. Anxieties rational or not fade away as he turns to find some ancient candy he’s never seen before.
He grimaces seeing wafers that clearly have been extant for hundreds of years before he was born. Prepared to turn his nose up and return to the more exciting eclectic candies of today Eddie is shocked as his body takes a step towards the sure to be stodgy treat. His hand reaches out to grab a ream of them and suddenly he feels a presence behind him as the booming voice of the proprietor speaks out once more, “Mmm excellent choice Boy. Those are favorite’s from my youth. Would ya like to try one?” Eddie turns to find the man’s hand outstretched and in the center one of the small chalky discs. Unsure why he would ever want them in the first place Eddie plans to turn him down, but his body feels otherwise.
Before a second passes Eddie has already snatched the piece of candy without a thought and shoved it in his own mouth. What should be the muted flavor of a candy that has sat unpurchased on shelf for years instead explodes in his mouth. Every sense is overwhelmed as flavors of a lifetime dance on his tongue. His mind goes blank, unable to process the experience of thousands of thoughts and feelings soaring into and through him. Warmth fills every inch of his being as his mouth again lolls open, he feels every piece of fabric on his dry skin before they grow sticky with sweat as he begins to sweat from the impossible experience. Eyes glaze over as he mindlessly stares at the jolly unmoving face ahead of him. It is impossible to say how long he stands there absorbing everything there is within the small piece of candy as it dissolves on his tongue. He only breaks out of it as he feels drool spill out of his wide open mouth.
Eddie slurps in embarrassment and mumbles an apology, barely able to will his body to do anything at all as he recovers from a state of ecstasy he couldn't possibly understand. The proceeding minutes are equally foggy, try as he might Eddie is running on fumes as he wanders back down the stairs, the old man ushering him with a gentle hand towards the door. He isn’t sure what awkward things his mouth must spurt out as he accompanies the man through the store. The only concrete recollections he can find as he exits are the man’s smiling face as he puts a small bag of the treats in Eddie’s hand and the jingling of the door bell closing behind him as he is again on the cold streets of the downtown.
“Did I pay for these?” He mumbles to himself as he wanders towards his apartment. Eddie doesn’t quite care what the answer is as he promptly tears into the pouch of multi-colored wafers, desperate to continue whatever high they brought him before. He shoves a handful of the chalky treats into his mouth and is promptly ushered again to a state of jubilee. His feet stumble onward as his mind grows mindless once more, his face smiling wide and his eyes glassy with ecstasy he still cannot grasp. It’s more akin to discovering a new sense than a new taste as every second passing brings him more rapturous pleasure. His clothes pull on his body with every movement. Tension created between himself and the world around him brings him delight beyond measure as, beyond the heighting of every sense, he begins to feel bloated.
Holding back a burp he arrives at his front door and closes it behind him. Eddie falls to the floor, dropping the now empty bag of wafers, as he experiences release from what feels like a lifetime of heightening pent-up pleasure. Eddie tears off clothes that have been hugging him tighter with each step towards home, doing so with an ease that should certainly be a red flag. Barely aware of his actions the strength suddenly coursing through him only brings him pleasure in a manner he has until now been pushing down as he feels his package swiftly strain briefs still clinging to his rapidly bloating thighs.
Falling face down on his bed he fully and unconditionally gives into the experience, humping the bed like an animal until his cock breaks free from his underwear. His arms grow larger as he pushes against his bed, widening palms grasping at sheets. Beneath the carnal pleasure of growth across his body he feels burning itches rise. Ever a hairless twink he begins to feel a long absent signifier of manhood begin to grace his form. While his thin arms become biceps, beneath them the thin blonde bush in his armpits darkens and begins a transformation from a garden into a jungle. The few hairs on his chest and around his nipples, in which he had but the smallest pride, stretch longer and do their best to spread, his cock growing even harder as he imagines thick untamable hair covering more of his form than he could even imagine.
Memories of shaving daily fill his mind as a mustache suddenly graces his ever-hairless face. He grits his teeth and clenches his jaw as his neck flexes and his vision flashes white as everything in his being cries with a desire to grow more, to be more. He scratches at his frail form as every disparate part of his body struggles to obey.
The room fills with the scent of his sweaty body grinding against his mattress. His pert waist expands, his ass ballooning into the air as his thighs fill with power. In his crotch a thick bush of pubes scratch against his cock as it bulges larger yet. Just as he’s about to lose control, his more powerful arms shaking with both the effort of growth as well as holding up his larger body, he takes a deep breath and a dumb grin spreads on his face. Behind the powerful scent of his own musk, there is an unmistakable saccharine haze hiding. With that he moans loudly, his chest vibrating as a deeper voice bellows forth and he collapses in his own mess as his cum stains a treasure trail still inching higher on his torso.
He awakens a completely different man. He groans and scratches at stubble he never dreamed he could grow and pushes himself with arms larger than his thighs used to be. He rubs himself up and down feeling sweat stained, and otherwise crusty, hair covering all the real estate he so wished it would. Unaware of the extent of his changes he allows himself a few moments to play with the new muscle and weight on his improved form. Flexing his biceps, delighting in the soreness therein as he bounces pecs that he certainly didn’t earn, Eddie quickly wakes up to reality and jolts up. Brimming with energy, anxiety he’s always had heightens to a new degree as he jumps up to inspect himself in a mirror.
He turns and inspects every inch of his new body. Pushing and prodding at impossibly developed muscle, twisting his neck to look at his defined jawline underneath stubble, pinching himself only half-hoping to awaken from the dream and yelping as his new clumsy fingers pinch with more strength than he thought possible. “Fuck!” He clenches at his throat as the voice sounding forth is unrecognizable, as well as one that would get any man to drop his pants. He blushes before checking the time and remembering the struggles of his all-too-real reality. He can’t go to work like this.
He scratches his hair and feels that while everywhere else on his body hair has grown fruitful, before multiplying beyond even that, the hair on his head has lost some of its youthful bounce and thinned. No time to worry about that. He wipes a sobering hand across his face, feeling its rough palm scratch at itchy stubble. Eddie forces down the butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the idea before dialing his workplace’s phone number. The phone rings once before the receptionist answers, “Hello this is Chloe with Blue Willow LTD. What can I do for you today?”
Eddie clears his throat and answers, “Hey Chlo this is Eddie I uhh, don’t think I’m going to be able to make it in today.” There is a pause as the receptionist checks a calendar before she replies, “I see, Eddie, is it? Did you have an appointment today?” This time Eddie pauses, taken aback that Chloe didn’t recognize him. Sure, his voice probably sounds a little deeper but they’ve worked together for years.
“What? No, Chlo you know me, it’s Eddie?” She promptly replies, “I’m not seeing an Edward or Eddie on my calendar, nevertheless I am sorry you won’t be able to make our company today. If you want to set up a later date I can certainly do that for you sir.” Eddie bites his tongue as he tries to think of anything to prove his identity to Chloe and comes up blank, in fact the longer he sits there the more he has trouble even picturing her face. “Sir? Are you still there?” He grunts in surprise, “Oh! Yes I, sorry for the bother. I uhh, it must be a wrong number.” “No problem at all sir, thank you for calling and we look forward to serving you at a later date!”
There’s a click as the receptionist hangs up. Eddie sits there staring at his phone and sees that he doesn’t even have a contact for the number he just called. He scratches at his stomach as the hair there is crusted with something he can’t quite recall. Unsure of his next move he hops in the shower and cleans up, taking time to play with his wet hair as it’s covered in suds. Still filled with impossible pleasure at the novelty of having this new form he pulls at his pubes and scratches at a face that somehow already has more stubble on it. After that he raises his arms to languish in his thick pit hair and the new musk it carries. Before washing it away and throwing on deodorant that’s leagues stronger than what he usually wears, he catches a whiff of something sweet in the air and it all comes flashing back to him. The candy store, it’s got to have something to do with that.
Eddie ignores the mountain of ulterior motives that returning to the candy store provides as he throws on a button up that barely fits and races out the door and towards the shop. The place is almost exactly as he remembers it, snug in between two businesses not of note and a smell of cinnamon and other sweets wafting through the shut door. Grabbing at the door handle he finds it locked. Briefly noticing the lights off inside, a small letter falls from somewhere he can’t see into his awaiting hands. Breaking the wax seal, his eyes scour the note, “To a not so young Edward. Congratulations on your new life, check your pocket.” Unsigned. Eddie grimaces as he checks his pocket to find a key.
Unwilling to dig into the implications of the note and grumbling to himself about being referred to as not so young ,he shoves the key in the lock and turns it. The store immediately comes to life. The light pouring in through the large windows is somehow brighter than it is outside. He steps in and takes a deep breath, finding himself again overwhelmed with delight as he enjoys the overpowering smell of his, er, the store. After a few moments he shakes it off and sets out to find the old man who presumably owns it.
Never could he know what he is to lose as he returns to the scene of his rapture however. Crossing the threshold he completely forgets about the hitherto slowly fading life of Eddie the salesman. The job he never truly enjoyed becomes the nothing it had been to him all along as he scratches his stomach mindlessly. Abs he only just received begin to bloat with a different, greater, type of strength that only years upon years of living could bring.
Walking down the aisles he doesn’t notice as the top button of his shirt pops off and chest hair begins to grow towards his neck. Memories of stocking the aisles by hand flow through his mind as he walks through each one. His goal of finding the proprietor he met yesterday slowly shifts as he instead carefully inspects every shelf, as if he were preparing for the day ahead.
Ever too lanky for his own good he remembers countless people telling him he needs to eat more and so he does, grabbing a treat or two as he loads shelves to their capacity. Each bite puts more pounds on his body as the hair covering him continues to thicken. Feeling various parts of his new form tighten Eddie stretches and finds his vantage is suddenly closer to the ground. There’s a crack in his back and he grumbles, his voice getting even deeper as his stomach pushes its buttons to their brim.
Suddenly the bell at the door jingles and his face alights with a smile. Setting whatever self-assigned tasks he had aside, he rushes over to help his customer find what they’re looking for. He takes no time to consider that said mission is far easier than it should be. Taking almost no time at all and as soon as it is done the bell chimes once more as a second customer arrives and after them a third. Soon enough the entire store is bustling with patrons looking for sweets and novelties that Eddie is beyond happy to offer. Each and every interaction fills him with purpose and delight as he in turn does all he can to make sure everyone walks out of his shop with a smile.
Walking around with a confidence and pride he’s never held, Eddie doesn’t even notice as he seamlessly works the store all by himself. After all, he's done it for years. Memories fly by and fill him with fulfillment as offers free samples at every opportunity, doing little magic tricks he certainly never honed, and introducing himself as Ed whenever the chance presents itself. After a long day of peddling his saccharine wares and spreading joy Ed eventually locks up and collapses into an old chair behind the counter. The chair creaks underneath him and a few more buttons pop off his shirt as he takes a load off. Wiping his brow after a day well done he takes no note of the dense hair poking through every undone button.
He scratches at his hair and feels it even thinner on his head as that on his stubbled face and chest hair have grown only thicker. Looking down at the barreled body that he would have sworn was far more lithe this morning he pats his stomach and smiles. Looking around at a store growing more familiar by the second, he remembers his apartment upstairs and gets up with a groan. The lights in the store dim without him touching a button as he makes his way to his home he made for himself above the storefront.
Looking around he finds it filled with possessions that decorated the apartment he woke up in this morning. After all where could that have been but right here. Beyond that, the domicile is chockablock full with clutter gathered in a life longer lived. Rubbing his beard in thought he is filled with a desire to explore his new sensuous form as he did the night before, though as he sits there his bones feel familiar. Same ones he’s always had after all, eh? Instead of following heady lust, he yawns with an intensity he’s never quite mustered as he sits in the bed that’s well large enough for two. Sleep comes to his eyes before he can make up his mind to do anything else and he falls back, sugar plums dancing in his dreams as potentiality rushes through him.
Ed wakes up early, as he always does. Sensing something afoot he quickly throws on clothes and makes his way downstairs into the store. Taking the briefest moment to admire how he fills out his uniform he winks at himself and throws on an apron before making his way down the stairs to see a young man standing outside the store and looking in the windows. Seeing the figure something at the back of his mind prickles that he should know who he is, the bizarre feeling compels him to let the man in before the store opens. After doing just that, the sensation only grows more prominent.
The younger man quickly makes his case, “Hi I’m so sorry for the bother I know you’re not open yet I just- Something told me I had to come by.” He pauses briefly and stares deeply at Ed as the older man scratches his beard in thought, “Eddie? Is that-” He is quickly cut off with a guffaw by the candyman. “HAH! I haven’t been called by that name in years, young man!” Despite the brash laughter, something begins eating away at Ed, and from the looks of it, it’s eating at his guest as well. Locking the door behind him lest another visitor sneak in, Ed offers a hand out, “The name’s Ed, welcome to my little slice of the world, uhm,” he pauses and waits for the visitor to offer his name, which he does, “Tony.”
That sends an eruption of memories through Ed’s consciousness. Tony. Immediately he remembers seeing Tony shirtless and blushes, was that from an Instagram post or had he somehow seen the young man before now in a less than pure manner. He shakes it off just as soon, surely Tony would remember him in the latter case, and he certainly doesn’t have social media, hah! Even if some of his new employees are trying to get him on there. Ed finds himself adrift in his own mind, quite unable to determine what is true and what is faction. Either way the image of the young man’s body is burned into his imagination and he doesn’t understand why. He swallows hard as suddenly an idea pushes itself to the front of his mind, flowing into him as if it’s coming from the store itself.
“You know young man, why don’t you have a look around to see if your friend Edward left something here. If something’s calling out to you I’d be sure to follow it.” Tony nods wordlessly and sets off, following an unseen trail to exactly what he’s sure to be looking for. Ed clears his throat and stays back, not wanting to make the younger man uncomfortable in any way. His mind keeps going through memories foggy and otherwise in between his morning chores. Soon enough he begins to come across a few memories of Tony alongside his younger self, and then there were more. Suddenly he’s flooded with ideas, dreams, memories from his youth. In each and every one he sees the young man right by his side. He scratches at his beard in thought, as he often does, before deciding to simply relinquish his curiosity, washing his hands of his concern, confident that the situation shall work itself out soon. Things have a habit of doing so in the store.
Ed grabs a box and sets out to begin stocking, preparing for another busy day that surely awaits after he opens his doors. As soon as he turns down the first aisle his mission changes. He sees Tony paused, staring at a jawbreaker like it’s a talisman holding the answer to all of life’s mysteries. He watches as the young man reaches out for it and suddenly holds it in his hands before he turns and stares directly at Ed who simply nods. Immediately understanding, Tony tosses it in his mouth and his eyes immediately glaze over just like Eddie’s did the day before and suddenly it all makes sense to the store owner.
He immediately sees Tony fill his tank top, muscle pouring onto his frame much faster than it did his own. His sharp jaw swiftly lines itself with a sculpted beard that any man would be proud of as his jaw expands large enough to easily hold the large piece of candy. His chest hair quickly spreads beyond the capacity of his tank, up towards his beard and quickly moving to connect with his pits. Staring at the man Ed decides it’s impolite to watch whatever fantastical changes are occurring as he instead opts to get back to work. After all, he was there for the man’s changes the first time.
Turning away, Ed is again overwhelmed with flashes of memories between himself and Tony. His mind flashes back to the large bed he slept alone in last night and is filled with comfort at the idea he will never have to do so again. While much of their lives together remained ephemeral, still to be defined as Tony’s new form the most important thing was clear. The pair were, are, and will be evermore inseparable. He remembers as if it were yesterday the day they met and from that moment on the pair were two halves of one whole. Nothing quite matters to the men besides that they are together.
Memories of Tony as a young personal trainer, or was it a handyman flitter across Ed’s psyche as the man standing in the aisle continues to mature and grow. Already taller than Ed he sprouts even higher, his thick thighs strain the shorts he had thrown on to rush to Ed’s shop and his feet swiftly outgrow his tennis shoes.
The details of their past and their lives lived together don’t quite matter at the moment as Ed stares at the love of his life growing into the man he’s always wanted to be. The ephemerality of their past together holds nothing to the flame burning in the chests of both men. With a grunt Tony grows large enough that the tank top hastily worn rips off of him and falls to the floor. Seeing his hairy body exposed as his package makes itself incredibly apparent, Ed sighs and walks over to his husband. Oft-adjusted gold bands swiftly appear on the ring fingers of both men.
“How many times do I need to tell you to buy clothes in your size Tony!” The recently younger man turns and laughs as he looks down to find himself barely clothed in the middle of their candy store. The two men kiss before Ed ushers his husband upstairs so he can keep getting the store ready for the rush right around the corner. Tony collapses on the bed with the weariness that decades of rapid aging wreaks on the body. Smiling at his sleeping husband Ed tucks him in before returning to the storefront with a cup of coffee. He smiles in serenity as he hears the bell jingle as a crew of other employees arrive and begin stocking and doing other work he has never minded doing himself.
Colors shine even brighter than before as sun beams in through the large windows. There is a hum of something otherworldly in the air as every inch of the store buzzes with whimsy. Ed sighs with contentment as he hears his husbands snoring through the apartment walls behind him, waving at the new hires, as they rush about the morning’s preparations. Smiling as the life of his dreams has somehow fallen at his feet, he too prepares to do all he can to spread joy as his goal. Tightening his apron Ed heads downstairs to open The Olde Candy Shoppe for business, eager as ever to spread sweet delight.
Hey everyone, long time lurker first time poster! Jk jk lol, but yeah sorry about the extended absence 😅 I entered a creative slump/busy as fuck period for a while there and just couldn’t check the account for a while, while I was in it. Hopefully now I’ll be more active! Like I said, moving forward for a while it’ll be a lot of shorter captions, but I’ll try to make them just as good :) I promise I’ll get to all of the DMs momentarily :)
For now, here’s something I’ve been working on for WAY TOO LONG (apologies again, especially to our model). Enjoy :)
(Julian 📸: @jxdavis98 )
———
Julian’s Vacation
It isn’t often that the stars aligned in such a way that provides us with exactly what we need at the exact moment we need it, but such was the case for Julian, and while he was enjoying himself on a break from work, no less.
Julian had always been considered by his circle to be an understatement of a stud. He didn’t hulk out of his clothes or anything like that, but he had handsome face and tons of natural charm. Call it ‘big dick energy’ if you will, it was some indescribable appeal. He hadn’t experienced any issues bedding girls or guys, and even his platonic acquaintances loved him.
From the outside looking in, Julian looked like he had ‘the full package,’ as one might call it, but there’s one thing he didn’t have that he wanted so badly.
Julian wanted to be buff. Not lean, not slight definition under his clothes, not even casual gym rat, but actually, genuinely buff. He’d always wanted to be one of those people who look like they spent every bit of free time in the gym, but his job absorbed much of his time, both in and out of work. He felt like if he had a body like that, he’d have the drive to maintain it, but working towards that was a time commitment he knew he didn’t have, and thus he always lacked the confidence of being a ripped gym bro.
Work was a bitch this quarter, so Julian decided to take a vacation to a nice all-inclusive spot in the Caribbean. A different type of vacation for him, for sure, but again, work was a bitch and he didn’t want to worry about planning an itinerary. A confirmed bachelor, Julian was used to traveling alone, and actually preferred it because of the spontaneity it offered.
He’d taken advantage of such spontaneity before on trips—befriending locals, going out and truly experiencing the local scene, and yes, taking every opportunity to take someone back to his room after a night out. But that was thinking too small for the type of spontaneity he had planned, for he soon discovered that his top Instagram thirst-follow, Italian fitness model Matteo Greco, would be staying at the same location he was for the weekend.
Matteo ticked all of the boxes for Julian. He was tall, he was muscular, he was handsome, he was thick, he was athletic, and he had a massive hog from what Julian could see based on his thirst-trap posts. He was everything Julian wanted in his body, but knew that his body shape/type didn’t allow for that kind of wish to be fulfilled. But Julian had other tricks up his sleeve.
At the last family reunion, Julian’s cousin seemed to be glowing. He had a huge amount of confidence, he seemed healthier than ever, Julian thought he might have even been a little larger, and he seemed genuinely contented. When Julian finally got him aside and asked what changed for him, his cousin told him about a concoction that turned his life around. He said that it allowed him to step into the life of another person, like literally inhabit their body. Apparently that kind of new perspective really made a difference for his cousin, even though he’d never spent more than a few hours inside whomever he decided to occupy. Julian obviously demanded to know the ingredients and steps and so his cousin graciously obliged. Luckily for Julian, he had his vacation coming up the weekend after the reunion, and he intended to take advantage of this new knowledge as soon as he could.
Luckier still for Julian, Matteo would be occupying the same location that weekend.
I am seeing more children as protagonists in erotica. Still being reblogged. Still being liked. The same guy having done this time and time again. It’s not preference. It’s p*dophil*a. I’m fucking sick of it. Why are we continuing to allow this? How many writers have to come out and say something, come out against this before something is done?
We will end up losing our entire community thanks to these people, as they’ll associate the queer tf erotica community with se*ualization of children. What are we supposed to do? When they shut us all down do you really think saying “we tried to say something” will be sufficient to stop them from doing another purge? What are WE doing?
