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compressiongearfan · 2 days ago

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Frat Founding

Wanting a simple group on campus for Indian students on campus, Kiran goes to Chad who has other plans for the academic and university at large. In short order Kiran becomes the first link in that chain and soon neither he nor his friends will be able to resist the allure of horny, dumb Greek Life

The corruption of Kiran into a Desi frat bro he would hate to be! Found too many refs so I tossed on some briefer TFs of his friends at the end. Hope you enjoy! -Occam

He was treating it like meeting an advisor, or a professor. Countless times over the last few years Kiran had gone out of his way to ask for advice on personal projects or visited office hours just to gain further insights. The CS Honors student was always looking for ways to get ahead academically.

Never has one of these meetings involved a person quite like Chad Becker however. The President of the University’s Greek Council was only known to Kiran by reputation. Kiran’s never been much of a people person, part of this whole proposal to the frat president. He wants to make a space for other Indian and South East Asians on campus to have something of a Spirit Org on campus, and given the funding provided by the council to fledgling orgs, he figured it was at least worth a shot.

Worst Chad can say was no, right?

Kiran feels the weight of Chad's stare as he awaits an answer after his opening spiel. There are a few beats before the president speaks up, giving Kiran more than enough time to go over a good number of scenarios where he’s promptly laughed out of the room. Instead though, the intimidating ideal of a frat bro smiles and responds.

Despite the performatively laid back tone, it’s clear that there are cold calculations behind the man’s words, “For sure lil bro. Trust, there’s no one who wants to see Greek Life be more, hm, multicultural yeah? I absolutely hear you.” Listening intently, Kiran struggles to find any sincerity in the Cali bro’s tone as he waits for the ‘but’ that must be incoming.

It doesn’t. Still staring at him with eyes as sharp as a shark’s despite their icy blue irises, Chad continues, “I’m sure you know frat life gets a bad rap regarding biases and having a group like yours on campus would help everyone see that there’s a place for them in Greek Life. So Kiran, bro, correct me if I’m wrong, but you’d be president of the frat starting out yeah?”

Chad is clearly sizing him up as he says this, like a prize steer to go to show or a weed to be pulled so something superior may be planted. Kiran doesn’t notice as he bristles at realizing there’s been a misunderstanding, “Oh! Sorry Mr. Becker, I think- I, sorry- I wasn’t really thinking about a frat so much as uhm? In my mind I was imagining something more along the lines of a support organization for-”

He’s cut off without a word as Chad sucks on his teeth. Kiran swears he feels the temperature drop in the room, nerves. It’s just nerves. Forcing himself with all he’s got to look at the man sitting opposite him, somehow above him, Kiran almost shivers as he sees him only stare more intently, almost glaring. His perfect wide smile only gleams brighter as he continues to look into and through the meeker student like a predator.

For a moment his surfer-vocal fry fades away, “I see I see, so you want to use our funds for your little hackathons and holi formals but keep us at arms length yeah?” His eyes narrow and his lips twitch slightly, but then he takes a deep breath and resets. That cold tone moving like the ebb of the tide as he reminds Kiran who holds the power here, “Let’s start over. Would you like a drink Kiran?”

Seeing Chad wander over to a minifridge hiding in the corner and grab a beer, Kiran prepares to turn the offer down. But then the president stands over him, one meaty hand on his shoulder while the other offers him an opened bottle dripping with condensation, “Please, Kiran. I insist.”

Before he even has an inclination to respond, the bottle already rests in his shaky hand. Only then does he notice the creeping thirst. Suddenly, his mouth and throat are so dry he wonders if he’d even be able to even speak.

Chad’s smile is too emotionless to be read as cruel and calculating, though there’s sure to be no affection in his words as he seeks to compel Kiran, “Go on, Prez to be, take a sip.”

He’s never been much of a drinker, let alone a beer guy. But as he’s commanded, like a dutiful soldier he has no choice but to obey. As soon as the first sip graces his tongue, the bookish student’s senses are dulled.

In the back of his mind he hears the echo of a memory he doesn’t remember living. Voices shout, ‘Chug, chug, chug!’ Kiran’s eyes go blank as he can’t help but obey. Each heaving gulp is deeper and more labored than the one that comes before. Kiran’s vision swims slightly as he watches Chad’s unreadable expression tinge with contentment.

Patting his guest on the back and laughing, Chad makes his way over to grab a couple more beers, “Hah! Easy now bro, this is a meeting now after all! Didn’t think you were that much of a party animal Kiran.” Popping open two more bottles, he sets one in front of Kiran and watches as the smaller man slowly shakes his head.

He isn’t a party animal, he detests crowds and drunken fraternity bros. Opening his mouth to deny Chad’s asinine assessment, his stomach grumbles. One of his hands goes to put pressure on it and physically feels it rumble. Still woozy from one drink, the lightweight suddenly begins to feel bloated.

Mouth still agog, his hand quickly flies to his face as he struggles to stop himself from burping. Clamping his lips shut just in time, each second pushing down the urge, each second refusing to let loose, it only grows more intense. He feels pressure rising in his stomach as his jaw burns from the effort of staying decent.

Beyond simple pressure, Kiran realizes that it’s not just internal, he feels his thin stomach pushing into his hand. In between clutching fingers begins to grow a layer of fat he simply would never eat enough to maintain. This distracts him enough for everything to give. Eyes watering, Kiran turns to look at the Frat president, as soon as he sees the smug look on Chad’s once guarded face, he loses control.

Buurrp- It lasts more than a few seconds. The soothing relief of giving in is firmly repressed by the embarrassment that fills his chest. Deep enough that Kiran can scarcely notice though, some part of him thinks it’s funny. Nothing wrong with burping bro, chill out- And while the thought is buried for now, it only continues to grow.

“Nice one brah!” Chad reaches out his drink to cheers with the new beer bottle in front of Kiran, lacking willpower to do anything but obey, so he does. Cold bottle in his hand once more he can’t ignore how right it feels in his hand. Clink- Seeing Chad take a swig he once more mimics his, er the president.

Still bloated, Kiran notices another strange sensation begin to rise. Just below where he clutched his stomach earlier, an itch begins to rise. With a frown, his free hand goes to do what one does and scratch it, clumsily continuing to drink his free beer as he does so.

Each pass of his fingers only makes it worse, spreads the burning itch further. Figuring he’s already embarrassed himself enough in front of Chad, he shoves his hand under his shirt. Gasping in shock, he realizes that his lower stomach is covered in a treasure trail growing wider by the second.

Feeling the strands pushing out into his sweaty fingers he can’t help but steal a look. Waiting for Chad to inspect papers in front of him Kiran quickly yanks up his shirt and bites his tongue to prevent from gasping again as he sees, on top of clearly having more weight, that his stomach that has always been gratefully hairless has been overrun with body hair.

Too dense and thick to even be dubbed a treasure trail, Kiran struggles to remember how he let it get this bad. Eyes drifting lower, Kiran finds another new problem. Slightly peeking out above his waistband and creating a definite bulge above his cock, his pubes have grown even more rampant than his belly hair. Seeing this and taking another swig of his beer, Kiran burps once more before doing the unimaginable.

He shoves his hands in his pants and scratches at his pubes. Almost moaning from delight he bites his lip as his fingers are immediately tangled in the thick new jungle. Creaking under his squirming form, reminding him that he has somehow put on more than a few pounds, Kiran absolutely forgets where he is as his hand drifts lower to cup his balls. His less-than-graceful fingers find them unmistakably heavier than they’ve ever been, almost filling his small hand.

Never truly distracted, at this point Chad sees fit it’s time to break Kiran from his reverie, lest he go too far too fast. Clearing his throat he calls Kiran back to his right mind, more or less. The slightly heftier student’s hand tears from his pants and forcefully bumps into the underside of Chad’s desk, producing a deep grunt of pain.

Now realizing that he was cupping his balls during the most important meeting of the semester, Kiran tries to hide that from the man who sees right through him. Though, without him being aware of it the very same hand races to his nose wherein he takes a deep sniff of the ball sweat soaked fingers. Watching his eyes roll back from the odor, Chad has to stop from bursting out laughing.

Going on something of a victory lap, Chad sees fit to taunt the changing man, “Yo bro, you just adjust your dick didja?” Hand still under his nose, Kiran stammers quickly denying the idea, there’s no way he did that? He’d not do so in private, how could he? And yet, even as he forces his hand back to his papers, the whiff of his sweaty dick remains, “No! Of course not- I mean-”

Smirking, Chad interrupts, “No, no, don’t worry ‘bout it bro. Guys like us don’t gotta worry about stuff like that. You get an itch, it’s the most human thing in the world to scratch it.” Kiran slowly shakes his head, guys like us. He’s not like Chad, he’ll never be like Chad

Seeing the man meagrely fighting back Chad stuffs his hand down his pants and performatively scratches an itch that wasn’t even there, dropping a stray pube on the table. The whole time, Kiran’s eyes never left the man’s hands, staring at the bulge in his pants shifting to the single curly strand that now sits between them. Ready to move on and content that the man’s changes are accelerating, Chad directs his attention back to himself.

“Got something on your cheek there bruh?” There’s the sound of Kiran sucking spit back into his mouth, not even aware that he had apparently been drooling. Quickly taking another swig, emptying his second beer, Kiran’s free hand flies to his face. Still slightly sticky from sweat, his fingers find something so shocking that he almost spits up the amber beer still in his mouth.

Swallowing the beer and tossing the bottle onto the table he scratches at his face fervently, beyond shocked that without his notice his paltry stubble has exploded to cover his face. No it’s not even stubble, as his suddenly less than pristine fingernails trail across his once hairless cheeks, peach fuzz thickens and spreads further across his face.

In no time at all a mustache pushes out of his upper lip and his jawline is coated with a thick beard. His mind tries to tell him this is normal, he’s got a hairy stomach and bushy pubes, surely he’s had this beard forever. Feeling bloated once more, his shirt begins to strain his chest as two meaty pecs begin to rise above his meatier stomach.

Focus returns to his eyes, he knows something is horribly wrong. Thicker brows furrowing at Chad he grunts out, finding his voice crackling deeper and slightly tinged with the vocal fry that infects every word out of Chad’s mouth, “What are you grh- doing to me you- urgh Asshole!” The president feigns concern and tilts his head ignoring the question that may well be Kiran’s last show of strength. Chad then simply pushes his half drunk beer closer to Kiran.

Eyes flickering between the man returning to the minifridge and the stale bottle set before him like bait, Kiran’s willpower begins to wane once more. Before the frat bro even makes it across the room, the sound of Kiran’s shirt straining against his heavier arms as he reaches for the drink fills the air. Chad grabs three more and returns to the desk.

When the mousy student entered the room Chad wondered if he’d even be able to sustain the transformation. Sitting here now, watching him drink that backwash laden swill without question, seeing nipples poking through the shirt beginning to tear, it’s clear that no dweeb out there will be able to resist his siren call. Kiran burps loudly, stopping just short of guffawing he tugs at his increasingly uncomfortable shirt.

Time to finish the dance, “So, Kiran, you were saying you wanted an Indian frat on campus right?” The top button bursts off his button up as he dumbly produces a plodding, “uuuuhhh?” His mind alights with his shifting memories. The fluorescent lights from studying overnight in a library suddenly strobing, changing colors as bookshelves press inward and deep base begins to pump from speakers pushing out from behind tables now littered with red solo cups and spilled cans.

Automatically drinking from the new bottle sat in front of him, Kiran sloppily wipes the beer spilling onto his beard with his hairier arm. Struggling a bit as his muscular biceps now compete with his heavy pecs for space. His vision swims, rapidly switching between the blowout party and the meeting with Chad. Competing with blaring speakers and crowd uproar that only he can hear, Kiran shouts in his new bullish voice, “Well uhhh, bro kinda just wanted a place for guys like me to hang y’know? Place for all the lil Desi guys on campus yuh?”

“Shirt’s lookin a little tight there bruh, you sure you’re just a ‘lil guy’ anymore?” Turning to take in his thick form, Kiran certainly can’t disagree. Chest hair encroaching on his neck, thighs thicker than his waist used to be. The chair creaks once more, threatening to totally give way under the still growing man. Yeah he’s no twerp, him and his bros are always at the gym.

In fact, Kiran doesn’t remember the last time he was even in a lecture. Attending office hours is absolutely out of the questions, the only interactions he’s had with professors and T.A’s were arm wringing for class credit. Clear as day he remembers meeting with a dude he would’ve sworn he was close with for intro to python, but as he plays it through he remembers burping in the man’s face and throwing a sweaty, heavy arm around him.

God that nerd was so uncomfortable. His expression turns to a sneer as he sits in front of Chad, and the president knows his work is just about done. Kiran paws at his crotch as he recalls dominating that man, some weak academic who thought himself a superior. Biting his lip, his bulge makes itself more than clear in his tight dress pants as the fabric rapidly e into the same sweats he wears every day, stained as they may be.

When pre suddenly begins to leave a stain that makes it clear the Desi frat bro is free balling, Chad knows Kiran is far past the point of no return. “Bro, do you ever not think with your cock?” Tearing off whatever remains of his shirt and fondling his bulky pecs Kiran shrugs, “Dunno bro, you ever think about somethin’ other than my cock either?” There’s a charge in the air as the two men stare at each other with something dark in their expressions before both break out into uproarious laughter.

Then, addressing it like it’s something they had discussed a number of times, Kiran takes the floor, “So, big bro, council good if I start recruiting for my new chapter?” Chad raises his glass and takes a long swig, with a content sigh he acquiesces, “Course brobro, we know you more than got what it takes. Been wanting to diversify frat row’s portfolio for a while, you know that.”

Scratching his exposed stomach as he stands, his fingers treading dangerously close to inching under his waistband once more, Kiran nods without a thought, “Yuhhhh!” Finishing another drink he belches yet again and finally there is no shred of decency left to fight back “Burrrrp, Huhuh!” Tossing the bottle onto the ground apathetic whether it breaks or not, the newly dubbed frat president stretches.

Flexing to himself as he stands there, feeling the strength and weight of his new form, Kiran feels his blood rush to his thicker cock as he realizes what a specimen he is. Chad similarly imagines how easy it’ll be for him to finally take over the rest of the school. No one’ll be shit talking Greek life anymore once men like Kiran are bumbling across campus. No need for little brownnosing losers in lectures when everyone finally remembers what it’s all about.

Eager to get a move on, and sure that if Kiran stays any longer both will have to write off the day for obvious reasons, he prods the man, “You were saying you were gonna go play your old friends a visit right? Go get your first members?” Kiran nods, that darker look returning and temporarily displacing his lust for himself and Chad. Rolling his shoulders he imagines his study group, doesn’t even remember how he knows them or why.

Grabbing a beer for the road, he nods at Chad and heads out the door. The incongruence at those dweebs even knowing his name begins to prickle at his mind, he needs to fix it. His frat must grow and so must they. Losers have spent too long playing MtG and Dota 2, he’s gotta remind them what men should be. That drinking, fucking, and partying are more important than their shitty assignments.

Wandering around campus he flexes his bicep and delights in his heady musk. Soon every beta male around will be just like him, just as Chad planned. He can’t wait until Chad runs this school. Approaching his old apartment he hears a few shrill men arguing about some lines of code inside. Cracking his neck and pawing at the growing bulge in his sweats, he’s never been more excited for anything. Time for the first inductions into the school’s newest fraternity.

In no time at all, his four best friends are all converted into perfect specimens for Kiran’s frat. Forewarned by his musk creeping in as he stands at the door, as soon as he barges in all four are instantly overwhelmed by his muscular, masculine visage. Under his touch their thin forms bulge. On the couch, Amir’s body immediately thickens into one that never shies away from his keg stand. His nose twitches as a powerful mustache pushes out of his upper lip as he becomes Kiran’s right hand.

Boyfriends Dev and Mo follow shortly after, their suddenly sculpted muscles bulging larger as if they were in competition with each other. Mo’s back cracks as he finally stands taller than his boyfriend, his potable goatee thickening into a beard that would put a lumberjack to shame. Dev’s twinkish face reshapes into something more masculine and handsome despite remaining smooth. While Kiran continues his work, focusing on the other two, the boyfriend’s waste no time rushing to their suddenly messier room.

Finally, quite Ajit who had been doing his best to not give in breaks. Hands that had been gripping the edge of the table trying to avoid the gaze of the man who cannot be Kiran, white knuckles cramp and burst larger as forearms and biceps surge larger in quick succession. His racing anxious breaths allow his chest to rapidly expand. Pecs quickly tatter his shirt as criss crossing veins decorate arms thicker than his legs once were.

Under the table his legs push larger and his bulge demands his attention. Lips suddenly surrounded by a thick beard, biting his lip he quickly snaps a picture of himself before following in the path of his five best friends as his hands quickly find his newly massive cock. The air of their apartment swiftly smells more of sex than one can imagine. Each man a perfect test case for Chad’s grand plans, perfect frat bros whose dicks will lead their frat to expand. Kiran and Amir hosting parties that no Desi man could resist, no one’s eyes will be able to avoid Dev and Mo as they’re all over each other at the gym, and Ajit’s new online presence and perfect form will send tendrils of change well beyond their university. One unreached community handled, Chad continues his grand plan of ensuring that Greek Life is the only group left standing.

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compressiongearfan · 2 days ago

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compressiongearfan · 3 days ago

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compressiongearfan · 3 days ago

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The faint smell of sweat permeates the air as I sit on the couch, sipping my protein shake. My sister's friend, Jake, struts into the room, wearing his usual tight shirt and skinny jeans. Despite him being gay, we'd always gotten along pretty well. I was the typical straight jock, captain of the football team, muscular and confident. And Jake, well, he was the epitome of the stereotypical gay best friend. He was small and slender, with a love for fashion and a quick wit. We'd often joke around, and he'd always been there for me, offering advice or just listening when things got tough.

— Głītćh —-

Jake enters the room, his presence commanding attention. His muscled frame fills the doorway, a stark contrast to his previous self. His shirt clings tightly to his broad chest, accentuating the defined muscles underneath. His shorts hang low on his hips, showcasing the tantalizing V-line that leads downwards. His once soft features are now chiseled and rugged, and a confident smirk plays on his lips. He exudes power and dominance, a far cry from the twink he used to be.

"Hey there, little buddy," he says, his voice dripping with authority. I feel a shiver run down my spine, a sensation I'd never experienced around him before. I quickly snap out of it, trying to shake off the odd feeling.

"—- Głītćh —-"

Memories flood my mind, memories of Jake and I in the locker room after practice. But these memories are different. I'm no longer the confident jock, instead, I'm on my knees in front of Jake, his cock buried deep in my mouth. I can taste the saltiness of his skin, feel the weight of his hardness against my tongue. His hands grip my head, guiding the rhythm of my movements. There's a sense of urgency in his actions, a raw desire that ignites something deep within me.

The sound of Jake's voice brings me back to the present. "What's with the dazed look, man?" he asks, a bemused expression on his face. I quickly avert my gaze, feeling my face turn hot with embarrassment. What the hell was going on with these disturbing memories?

"—- Głītćh —-"

The feeling of embarrassment is replaced by a rush of arousal. I yearn for the taste of Jake's cock, the way it fills my mouth and stretches my limits. The thought is jarring, confusing... and undeniably arousing. I feel a familiar bulge form in my shorts, and I desperately try to hide it from Jake's view. He smirks, a knowing glint in his eyes. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?" he says, his voice low and suggestive. "You're thinking about what you used to be, and what you are now."

I can only nod, the truth of his words hitting me hard. I used to be the star quarterback, the big man on campus. But now, I'm nothing more than Jake's obedient cock-hungry toy. The transformation is stark, the contrast between my old and new self impossible to ignore. And the worst part is, I revel in it. I revel in the humiliation, the degradation... the sheer pleasure of being owned by Jake.

I'm brought back to reality by the sound of Jake unbuckling his belt. He smirks at me, the promise of what's to come evident in his dark eyes. "Get to work, slut," he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. I quickly obey, dropping to my knees in front of him. His cock springs free, thick and pulsing with need. I dive in eagerly, lost in the world of pleasure that Jake provides.

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compressiongearfan · 3 days ago

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Common guys, lol at me, I am fucking hot. Look at the size of those pecs, I bet you wanna rub your face on them, sniff them and lick them... And damn, I need someone to make me feel good, you know what makes it? Making them more, bigger, stronger, you can make that happen, all you need to do is give yourself to me, add you flesh to me, become part of this, make me stronger man. Make me younger with your energy, make my dick bigger, thicker with yours... I know you wanna, just come closer, give in and add yourself like the others... Yeah, It's gonna feel good... For me...

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compressiongearfan · 3 days ago

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compressiongearfan · 3 days ago

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compressiongearfan · 3 days ago

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maybe something where two guys hang out and then one drinks something and anything he says becomes the truth?

“A truth serum?” John asked.

“Yeah!” Mark replied, “except it’s not what you think. Instead of making you tell the truth, it makes everything you say become the truth.”

John looked down at the small green bottle. “Sounds a little dangerous.”

“It doesn’t last that long, and you can always reverse whatever you say.” Mark saw the hesitation in his friend’s eyes. “C’mon man, all I need for you is to make me jacked. You can do it to yourself too! C’mon. Please?”

John looked down at the bottle then down at his body. He could do with some more muscle, and it wouldn’t hurt Mark either.

“Fine,” he said taking the bottle and unscrewing the cap, “but just to get us jacked.”

“Totally bro,” Mark said, and with that, John drank. The bottle was so small, the entire thing went down his throat. “Well,” he said, “feel any different?”

“Not really…” John said, “how does this work?”

“Anything you say becomes the truth. So… say something!”

John cleared his throat. “Right… well… we’re jacked. Both of us. Nice and muscular, but not too muscular.”

It was instantaneous. Both boys felt their bodies balloon out with muscle, causing their loose, dangling clothes to grow tight and fitting around their new, jacked bodies.

Mark didn’t waste any time. Within seconds, his shirt was off, and he was looking at himself in the mirror, eyes wide with shock.

“Fuuuuck dude! It worked! It really worked!!” John was barely listening. He was feeling up his own muscles through his t-shirt. They didn’t even feel real, but when he gave one pec a hearty squeeze, he knew that this wasn’t a dream. “Say something else!” John ran back in, practically jumping up and down.

“Like… what?”

“ANYTHING! Like… give me a huge dick.”

“A huge… what?”

“C’mon dude,” Mark was back to pleading, “my girlfriend would get a kick out of it.”

“Fine,” John said with a grin, “Mark has a a giant monster cock that’s so big, he can’t even fit it into his girlfriend’s pussy.”

Mark felt a huge tugging at the bottom of his boxers, and looked down to see his cock growing and growing, so much so that he was fighting to keep his shorts from just falling down. By the time the damn thing was done expanding, Mark guessed it was at least 11 inches long.

“Jesus man, what the fuck??” But John was cracking up. Mark looked back down at his dick and started to imagine what life would be like with a shlong that long. “You’re so fucking gay man,” Mark said.

“Right,” John scoffed, “I’M the gay one.”

He didn’t realize what he had done until after he’d done it. Apparently the serum didn’t take to sarcasm too well, because after saying the words “I’m the gay one,” John started to look at Mark differently. He started to lust after his muscular physique with an animal passion, caressing the curves of his biceps with his eyes, practically tasting the precum dripping out of the wet patch in Mark’s skin-tight boxer shorts, where his massive dick was twitching relentlessly.

“Dude… you okay?”

He didn’t know how long he was staring. Only that he wanted more than to just stare. He wanted Mark. He wanted him now.

“I think we’ve had our fun,” Mark said, starting to feel his nerves unwind, “let’s change back, okay? John? Can you change me back?”

“Okay,” John said with a smirk, “I’ll change you… but I won’t change you back.”

Mark’s face grew pale. “Wait, what?”

John cleared his throat, “Mark has a giant body to match his giant dick. He’s a fucking muscle beast with humongous arms and a giant pec shelf.”

Mark didn’t even have time to speak before his body shot out in all directions. What was previously handsome and toned was now obscene and large. His legs grew like tree trunks bursting through his underwear and sending his monster cock flying out into the cold air. He could barely see below his bulging pecs, and his arms had grown so large in the span of a few seconds, that they had rendered a lot of previous movement impossible.

“What the fuck man?!” Mark said. He gripped his dick. It felt normal sized in his otherwise abnormal hands. “What did you do to me?”

“I only made it so that you’d be able to have a regular dick again. Well… regular compared to the rest of your body.”

Mark’s head was rushing with thoughts. What was his girlfriend going to say about this? What was his family going to say? His job? How was he going to live his life when he couldn’t even fit through a proper doorway?

“Change me back,” he said firmly.

John smiled. “Of course I’ll change you back. But not after I’ve had some more fun.” Mark was about to lunge forward when John said: “Isn’t that right, mister Robbie Amell?”

Mark exhaled deeply. As he did, he felt his muscles subside, his body shrinking and leaning out into the chiseled physique of Robbie Amell. His hands reached for his face, and he felt the bones shift and rearrange themselves under his skin, which became smooth and soft to this touch.

“What is happening to me?” Mark said, his voice now noticeably higher. His bewildered blue eyes shot to John, who was rubbing his own dick through his skin-tight jeans. Just as soon as he saw this did a pair of tight gym shorts wrap themselves around Mark—or Robbie’s—defined hips. In the nylon pouch, he saw his dick return to normal size. Normal, that was, for a Hollywood celebrity.

Robbie smiled. “Yeah,” he said feeling his washboard abs, “I could get used to this.”

“Better not,” John said with a smile. He was becoming mad with power, and he was sure that his next transformation would be his hottest. “You’re not actually Robbie Amell. You’re a hairy Spanish bodybuilder.”

The second the word “hairy” crossed John’s lips, Mark’s chest started to grow itchy. He looked down to see his previously spotless chest dusted with little black hairs. What was more, his pecs were starting to come back in. With a vengeance.

“Que es esto?” Mark said. Though he could understand the words that came out of his mouth, he knew they were not in English. As a matter of fact, the more he thought about it, the less he knew of the English language at all. “Yo no enteindo…”

“It’s okay,” John said as he walked up to his friend, “you don’t have to say anything. Just look at yourself man!” He pointed to Mark’s bicep, which Mark instinctively flexed. The thing must have been 17 inches, at least. He followed it up to his broad, thickening shoulders, down the hairy cleavage of his new pecs, and across the landscape that was his muscle gut.

Mark—or Manuel—gave a deep groan. He was so enamored with his own body, he didn’t have the energy to even be mad at John. “Flex,” he heard his friend say, and Manuel placed his hands on his hips and flared his bodybuilder muscles out.

“Very good,” John said, running his hands over the rough mounds of stone.

“NOW can you change me back?” Manuel asked, only the words came out as “Ahora puedes cambiarme?”

John gave him a confused look. “Sorry? I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Ahora puedes cambiarme?!” Manuel repeated, but it was no use. He was running out of time. If John didn’t turn him back soon, he was going to be stuck as a hulking hispanic bodybuilder for the rest of his life.

He dove for the little green bottle, brining it to his lips in the hope that there might be just a drop of the truth serum left.

Nothing. He shook the bottle pathetically, but not a single drop came out. He heard John laughing behind him.

“Sorry Mark,” he said, “you should have taken the serum yourself. But you trusted me, and I suspect I’ve got time for one more transformation left before we run out of time…”

Manuel couldn’t understand the words John was saying. He understood only one single word: “briefs,” and made one more pass at the bottle.

But his hands were disappearing. As a matter of fact, his whole body seemed to be shrinking down, the mass of his muscles vanashing into thin air as he felt wind rush through the silky sheen of his skin.

He collapsed onto the floor, immobile, and felt the bottle topple down just a few inches away from him. He could see John walk over to his limp body. His friend towered over him, his toned and perfectly round muscles seemed colossal compared to whatever it was Mark had become.

He watched as John removed his clothes, revealing every inch of the body he had wanted in the first place. Not too big, not to muscular, but just sexy enough to get every guy in a two block radius hard as a rock.

Even Mark felt a flash of attraction as John pulled him up his legs and over his ass. But as he felt his best friend’s cock fill out what used to be his face, he knew that his life was going to be different from here on out.

John rubbed his dick through his brand new briefs. “Damn man,” he said to Mark, “you fit pretty well.” He knew he should feel bad, having just turned his best friend into a pair of underwear. But he suspected there was plenty more where that truth serum came from. He was sure would turn him back… eventually…

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compressiongearfan · 3 days ago

Text

“You’re sure you want this?” John’s voice was low, almost a purr, as he leaned back in his chair, his shirtless torso glistening under the soft glow of his ring light. His Instagram live chat was buzzing, comments flooding in faster than he could read them. But he wasn’t looking at the screen. His eyes were locked on the man in front of him—Joel, the latest volunteer, the latest offering.

Joel nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “I’m sure,” he whispered, his voice trembling but resolute. “I want to be part of you. I want to make you… more.”

John’s lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. His hand slid down his chest, fingers tracing the ridges of his abs, the muscle that had grown thicker, denser, with each absorption. He could feel the power thrumming beneath his skin, a symphony of strength and desire. The camera caught it all—the way his pecs flexed as he shifted, the way his cock, even soft, was a massive slab of flesh resting against his thigh, a testament to the man he’d absorbed just a week ago.

“You know what happens,” John murmured, his voice like velvet. “Once I start, there’s no going back. You’ll be part of me—forever.”

Joel’s breath hitched, but he didn’t back away. If anything, he stepped closer, his hands shaking as he reached for the hem of his shirt. “I know,” he said, his voice firmer now. “That’s what I want. To make you better. To make you… perfect.”

John’s smile widened. Perfect. That was the goal, wasn’t it? To become more than human, to evolve into something greater, something unparalleled. And Joel—Joel was the next step. His body was lean but muscular, his cock thick and heavy, just the way John liked them. He could already feel the pull, the hunger that had been gnawing at him since he’d first realized what he was. A pred. A predator. A devourer of men.

He stood, his height imposing, his presence overwhelming. The camera followed him as he closed the distance between them, his hands reaching out to grip Joel’s shoulders. “Then let’s begin,” he said, his voice a whisper that sent shivers down Joel’s spine.

---

It hadn’t always been like this. Once, John had been just another guy, sculpting his body in the gym, posting thirst traps on Instagram to feed his ego. But then came the discovery—the hunger, the power, the realization that he could consume, could absorb, could evolve. It had started small, almost by accident. A hookup that had gone too far, a moment of desperation that had ended with his first absorption. And then… then he’d felt it. The surge of strength, the rush of knowledge, the way his body had shifted, grown, improved.

He’d been addicted after that. His Instagram had become a hunting ground, his DMs a buffet of willing participants. Men who wanted to be part of something greater, who wanted to give themselves to him entirely. And John… John had taken them all.

---

Now, with Joel trembling in his grasp, he could feel the hunger rising again, a dark, insistent need that demanded to be fed. His hands slid down Joel’s arms, his touch electric, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of Joel’s ear.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his breath hot against Joel’s skin. “And soon… you’ll make me perfect too.”

Joel shuddered, his body pressing closer, his cock already hard and straining against his jeans. “Do it,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Take me. Make me part of you.”

John’s grin was feral as he stepped back, his hands moving to his own jeans, fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper. The camera caught it all—the way his cock sprang free, thick and heavy, already half-hard as it brushed against his stomach. The chat exploded, comments flooding in, but John ignored them, his focus entirely on Joel.

“Take it all off,” he commanded, his voice rich with authority. “I want to see you. I want to feel you.”

Joel’s hands shook as he obeyed, pulling off his shirt, his jeans, his boxers, until he stood naked in front of John, his body on full display. He was beautiful, his muscles defined, his cock thick and heavy, just waiting to be absorbed.

John’s hunger surged, his own cock hardening as he stepped closer, his hands reaching out to cup Joel’s face. “You’re ready,” he said, his voice a low growl.

Joel’s eyes fluttered shut as he nodded, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “Yours,” he whispered. “Everything for you to take.”

John’s grin widened as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Joel’s, the kiss soft, almost tender, before it deepened, his tongue sliding into Joel’s mouth, claiming him, devouring him. He could feel the power building, the pull of the absorption growing stronger with every passing second.

His hands moved down, gripping Joel’s shoulders, and then lower, sliding over his chest, his abs, until they reached his cock. John’s fingers wrapped around the thick shaft, his touch firm, possessive, and he could feel Joel’s body trembling, could hear the soft moan that escaped his lips.

“Fuck,” Joel whispered, his voice thick with need. “John… please…”

John’s grin was sharp as he tightened his grip, his other hand moving to cup Joel’s balls, fingers massaging the sensitive flesh. He could feel the power surging, the hunger growing, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against Joel’s ear.

“Give yourself to me,” he murmured, his voice a low, insistent command. “Let me take you. Let me become you.”

Joel’s body shuddered, his cock twitching in John’s hand, and he nodded, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “Yes,” he whispered. “Please… take me.”

John’s hands moved lower, gripping Joel’s thighs, and he could feel the power surging, the pull of the absorption growing stronger. His body was humming with energy, his muscles rippling as he prepared to take—to consume.

Joel’s eyes fluttered shut as he let out a low moan, his body trembling as he felt the pull, the power, the hunger. “John…” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Please… make me part of you…”

John’s own moans grew louder as the mass began to distribute through his body, his muscles swelling, his frame expanding with the influx of raw power. His skin rippled as the new mass settled, his abs flexing, his chest broadening, his shoulders thickening. His already massive cock twitched, then began to grow, absorbing Joel’s own thick length into itself. It throbbed, the veins standing out starkly as it expanded, becoming even more monstrous, more perfect. Even soft, it was a heavy, imposing weight against his thigh, a testament to the power he now wielded.

John’s breath came in ragged gasps as the pleasure peaked, the sensation of assimilation overwhelming him. He could feel Joel’s essence merging with his own, the raw energy of the man’s strength, his vitality, his lifeforce becoming part of him. His body thrummed with power, every muscle taut, every nerve alight with the ecstasy of the absorption. He could feel himself evolving, growing, becoming something more, something beyond human.

When it was finally over, John stood tall, his body a masterpiece of raw, overwhelming power. He looked down at himself, marveling at the changes, at the way his muscles rippled with every movement, at the way his cock, now impossibly massive, hung heavy and thick between his legs. He flexed his arms, his chest, feeling the raw strength coursing through him, the power of Joel now a part of him, forever.

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