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[fuckmafuyu]

Sporting his sons buddy.

When Eric came by to get his son he acted wirhout much thinking. He always was curious for his fit body. And as his son was still out it was the perfect opportunity.

"He should be back every minute" he said "come in"

But as he left to get a drink for that impressive friend of his youngest, he grabbed something else from a hidden compartment of his work desk.

"Take some coke" he said, returning to the hall, handing over the can while his other hand skillfully emptied a syringe into the biceps of that hunk, putting down the can while Erics eyes already went blank.

"Sorry, dude" the father murmured while he grabbed that kid under his pits to drag him to the study "I won't borrow you for long", thinking about some brotime, sporting this fot, young lad, already excilerating his whole body when he slid in his first foot down those muscly legtubes, then the other, pulling up the husk his sons buddy had turned into, up his naked hips, hember into the covers of that new tool, then his upper body before he slid in his arms to finally pull over that handsome mask over his well groomed own features.

His body shivered as the suit began to transform his body, merged until he fully became Eric, looking into the mirror, smiling playfully ashamed as he looked at his well raged equipment.

Then he heared the door "Dad, are you home?"

"Shit", he expressed, injoying the first time speaking with Erics tone, rushing to get dressed.

"Ah! he, buddy!" he greeted his 'buddy' shortly after. "Your dad let me in, before he ghad to leave" still feeling the thrill of that young body stretching his crotch. "Ready to pump some load?"...

[fuckmafuyu]

The Metamorphosis Closet

As we stepped into the hidden store, a subtle chime announced our arrival. The room was dimly lit, with shelves adorned with peculiar items lining the walls. And there, standing behind the counter, was a man who exuded an air of quiet confidence.

Store Owner: Welcome, welcome. I see my reputation has piqued your curiosity. I am Felix, the creator and curator of this establishment. Please, make yourselves comfortable.

His warm smile put us at ease, as if he already knew the astonishment we were about to experience. Felix had an air of mystery about him, his eyes sparkling with a mix of artistic passion and deep knowledge.

Felix: You may be wondering what brings me to create such lifelike bodysuits. Well, it's a blend of artistry and my extensive background in the film industry. For years, I have worked tirelessly behind the scenes, crafting special effects and prosthetics that blur the line between reality and imagination. But one day, it struck me—why not give people the opportunity to live in the skin they desire, to experience a different shape, a different self?

He gestured to the rows of suits hanging in the store, each one a testament to his craftsmanship and dedication.

Felix: These bodysuits are not mere costumes; they are an extension of who we are, or who we long to be. With careful attention to detail, I have created a way for individuals to transform their appearance seamlessly, without the constraints of time, effort, or judgment. Here, in this haven of possibility, people can explore their desires, embrace different body shapes, and express themselves in ways they never thought possible.

His words carried an undeniable sincerity, as if he genuinely believed in the power of his creations to bring joy and liberation to those who sought them.

Felix: You see, I believe that true beauty lies in the freedom to choose, to define oneself by the body they inhabit, regardless of societal expectations or limitations. In this world, we are no longer confined by genetics or the boundaries of our physical forms. Instead, we can embrace the endless possibilities of self-expression, stepping into a skin that resonates with our deepest desires.

As Felix spoke, his passion illuminated the room, casting a mesmerizing glow over the bodysuits. It was clear that he saw his work as more than just a business venture; it was a way to empower individuals, allowing them to rewrite their stories and discover new aspects of their own identities.

Felix: So, my dear visitors, welcome to this realm of transformation, where the boundaries of the physical self blur, and the potential for self-discovery knows no bounds. I invite you to explore, to try on these suits, and immerse yourselves in a world of endless possibilities.

[fuckmafuyu]

XY

This story is a part of Occam's writing prompt challenge. I highly recommend y'all check out #occam2000 to read the other amazing entries by the other talented writers!!

LATEST REPORT ON RECENTLY DISCOVERED METAMORPHOSIS GENE 

Few things in this world are as beautifully intricate as human reproduction. However, it is not a perfect system. Any number of things could go wrong during the conception and/or birth of a human being, one of which includes genetic mutations. The chances of gene mutation are never zero. While modern-day doctors and scientists continue to fight the good fight of keeping harmful genetic disorders at bay, there is one particularly potent mutation a tiny percentage of the human population carries.

How long this mutation has existed within our gene pool is currently unknown. What is known is that although this malignant gene usually remains dormant within the human body, it can potentially rearrange an individual’s genetic composition and expression when active. Unfortunately, this information was only recently discovered after it had already wreaked havoc in [redacted]. The mutation has been dubbed the Metamorphosis (MM) gene. The MM gene is linked to the Y chromosome in humans. Fortunately, a male’s X chromosome usually functions as a suppressor, thereby keeping the malignant gene dormant in afflicted individuals. However, it is still possible for the MM gene to rekindle if certain conditions are met.

First, an afflicted male must lack the appropriate allele(s) for their X chromosome to properly function as a suppressor against the MM gene. Second, the individual’s body must be in a state of heightened activity due to intense physical exertion. Lastly, on a neurological level, the individual must experience high levels of dopamine, oxytocin, and norepinephrine (or, in simpler terms— love). Should all these conditions be met, the door opens for the MM gene to potentially awaken within the subject. 

As you may have already surmised, statistical probability works in our favor against the MM gene. Unfortunately, however, there remains a chance, regardless of how slight, that the proper conditions will align for this chaotic mutation to awaken and wreak havoc on both the carrier male as well as any surrounding, non-carrier parties. This was the case with one individual in the town of [redacted]. 

Numerous questions about how the MM gene operates and spreads among non-carriers despite being classified as a genetic disorder inundate microbiologists with, unfortunately, little to no answers at the time of this report. Further research into the matter remains a high priority. 

END REPORT 

***

It was supposed to be an ordinary day like any other when Geovanni R. Diaz stepped into the gym that afternoon. He drank his pre-workout in the front lobby while waiting for his friend/gym partner Evan Washington to arrive. The two men had met at the beginning of summer when they both started hitting the gym on the same day. They bonded over making fools of themselves as they misused several exercise machines. They became close friends and regular gym buddies since then. 

Some 20 minutes had passed, and Evan was still nowhere in sight. Geo finished the last few sips of his pre-workout and decided to start without him. It was common for Evan to flake out, especially as of late. While Geo initially shared Evan's casual approach to the gym, he eventually decided he wasn’t satisfied with doing the bare minimum. He took on an intense 60-day workout regime to really challenge himself. Evan supported his friend’s endeavor, but the differences in their goals eventually showed themselves when Evan regularly skipped days while Geo kept at it. He didn’t take it personally; he had grown used to it, although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss having someone to joke around with between sets. Regardless, Geo claimed a chest fly machine, powered up his headphones, and then proceeded to get to work. 

“Hey papi, mind if I work in with you?” 

Geo heard a familiar voice behind him as he finished his warm-up set. He smiled as he turned and saw Evan leaning against the machine. 

“Hey, handsome, I thought you weren’t coming today.” Geo stood up and embraced his close friend. 

“Wasn’t planning on it if I’m being totally honest, but then I decided maybe I’ve been skipping too many days and forced myself out of bed to come here. Did you just start?”

“Yeah man! It’s chest and shoulder day today so I figured I’d start with my favorite machine,” Geo looked at Evan with a grin. “Care to join me?” 

Evan only laughed in response. They both already knew the answer, but they enjoyed asking anyway as a joke. With that, they proceeded to go through Geo’s workout plan together. Naturally, Evan couldn’t keep up with Geo anymore and had to lower the weight after every set, but that didn’t stop them from enjoying their time together. By the end of the workout, they were both tired and sweaty in the locker room after hitting the weights hard.

“I have no idea how you manage to stay on track with this whole fitness challenge thing…” Evan huffed as he caught his breath. “I’d probably give up after the first day. You look good though! Your hard work is paying off and it really shows!”

“You think so?” Geo said as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “It’s hard to tell sometimes. I look in the mirror and I feel good, but then I stare at myself too long and I start worrying if I’m just lying to myself.”

“That’s just body dysmorphia talking, you look great!”

“Aw thank you Evan, you’re too kind.”

“Of course! Anytime you need reassurance, I’ll always be here.” 

Evan flashed Geo a broad smile, and he smiled back. A few minutes passed before Evan started talking again. 

“Hey, are you free tonight? I was thinking of making my world famous lasagna tonight, and I'd love to have you over for dinner.”

Geo stopped drying himself after he heard Evan say that. He turned slowly to Evan and saw him with a shy smile. The same smile formed on his face as he began to answer.

“I would love to have dinner with you, Evan. Of course I’ll come over tonight.”

Evan practically exploded with excitement. He ran to Geo for a hug, almost knocking him over due to the impact. Geo wrapped his arms around Evan and held him in a tight embrace. Their hugs always put Geo in a good mood. He was more than overjoyed to discover that Evan shared his feelings. He knew this hug would quickly become one of his top favorite memories. It was a tender moment between two men falling in love, which made it all the more noticeable when loud indigestion ended their sweet moment abruptly. Geo pulled away and held his stomach as he kneeled over in pain.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Evan asked. 

“Ugh… I’m fine. I think I just need a bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Geo ran off while Evan stayed behind in the locker room. Evan finished packing up their things while he waited. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty. Growing worried, Evan walked to the bathroom stalls to check on his beloved friend. He heard heavy, labored breathing coming from the only closed stall. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” 

Evan knocked on the stall door and found that it was unlocked. He pushed it open slightly. His jaw dropped to the floor when he found Geo naked and drenched in sweat on the tile floor. His eyes were clenched closed, and his face was distorted due to unbearable abdominal pain. Evan ran to his side. 

“What’s going on!? What’s wrong?” Evan asked with apparent urgency in his voice. Geo could barely get words out as he was too busy hyperventilating. 

“So… Hot…”

Evan held a hand against Geo’s forehead and almost immediately recoiled from how hot it was. Geo was running an extremely high fever, unlike anything he had ever seen! Evan’s eyes darted around the bathroom as he desperately sought solutions but couldn’t think of anything due to his panic. He was desperate. He knew he needed to act fast before—

“Ohhhh it hurts!!”

Geo’s sudden shriek stopped Evan’s negative line of thinking. At that moment, time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Evan’s gaze shot back to Geo. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw what was happening to his soon-to-be boyfriend. Unbeknownst to both of them, Geo was a carrier for the Metamorphosis gene, and all the right conditions were met for it to awaken. The gene was hard at work rearranging Geo’s DNA, and he began transforming right before their very eyes! 

It began with his body hair. Like the other men from the paternal side of his family, Geo had never been able to grow much body hair, if any. However, he did have the genes needed for ample body hair, and thanks to the MM gene, it was finally able to express itself. Thick, black hair began sprouting out of his legs in spurts. With each hair follicle that grew in, Geo’s legs grew just a little bit thicker than before, causing Geo to moan obscenely loud as a result. The accelerated hair growth traveled up his legs and into his crotch area where his pubic hair grew in at an alarming rate until he had a jungle of bushy pubes covering his groin. His hairy balls hung lower than before after growing in size and his cock grew an inch thicker in width. Within a few minutes his entire lower half was transformed. His legs became as strong as tree trunks, and with a new, well-endowed package to boot— all covered in a thick layer of hair too! 

The transformation wave continued to ripple throughout the rest of his body. Geo twisted and writhed on the floor as the rest of his body underwent rapid changes. A prominent happy trail formed on his lower abdomen, connecting his belly button and pubic region with a line of long, messy hair. His pecs grew more plump as hair ran up his ab line and onto the center of his chest where it spiraled outward until it formed little rings of hair around his nipples. His chest and abdominal areas were only covered with a slight dusting of body hair compared to his legs. The stubble on his face grew until a thick, connected beard replaced the short goatee Geo once sported. 

His armpits were hit the hardest by the transformation. His pit hair grew and grew until it curled from its long length, leaving Geo with obscenely hairy underarms. Combined with the heavy sweat of an intense workout, Geo’s hairy pit smell began to fill the room. Evan recoiled from how unexpectedly strong Geo’s musky body odor had become, though he couldn’t resist helping himself to a couple of sniffs after he got a whiff of his powerful musk. 

The MM gene had thoroughly scrambled Geo’s DNA sequences, leaving him as a completely unrecognizable, alternate version of himself! 

“WHEW!! God I feel sooo much better now… Hey what’s wrong, babe? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“G… Geo? Is that you?” Evan stood in shock from disbelief. If he hadn’t witnessed it for himself, Evan would’ve never believed that the hairy, smelly jock lying in front of him, staring at him with a lustful smirk, was the same man he had just invited over for dinner. 

“Of course it is, mi hermosito, who else would I be?” Geo winked as he threw his arms up, leaving his hairy underarms exposed. “By the way, I saw you sniffing the air earlier… How about you come and have a whiff right from the source?” 

Evan chuckled nervously, but Geo wasn’t joking. His laughter died down as he realized just how dead-serious Geo was.

“No… You’re not seriously—” 

“Oh but I am,” Geo interrupted. “Just a little taste won’t hurt anyone. Call it a preview for what’s to come later tonight.”

“But right here? In the public bathrooms?”

“Why not? It’s not like anyone else is around right now. We’ll just have to keep our voices down if someone comes in. So, what do you say? I know you want to…”

Geo got up from the ground and approached Evan. He stood close enough that his scent naturally filled Evan’s nose without him needing to sniff. Evan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as his friend’s intoxicating musk left him in a state of deep arousal. Of course, Evan had some reservations about hooking up with Geo after he had just randomly transformed right in front of him, but between how close Geo’s pits already were to his face and the fact that it still seemed to be the same man he had come to know and love on the inside, Evan couldn’t bring himself to reject the offer. Before he could think about it properly, he was already leaning in without even realizing it. 

Once Evan started, he couldn’t stop. He buried his face deep into Geo’s sweaty, rank underarms. Geo’s coarse black hair tickled Evan’s nostrils as he nuzzled against the crevices of his pits. Muffled groans filled with pleasure escaped Evan’s mouth as he indulged in the manly, sweaty scent, each sniff leaving him more satisfied than the last. Soon enough, both Geo and Evan grew rock hard from all the sensual physical touch. The tents in their gym shorts poked and rubbed against each other as they continued pressing their bodies together. For Geo, the thought of getting worshiped in a public place like a gym bathroom was the hottest thing ever while Evan was just happy he got to service a hairy, sweaty gym rat. 

Evan briefly lifted his head out of Geo’s armpit for air. At that moment, Geo held his face and planted a firm kiss on his lips. Their tongues wrestled inside of Evan’s mouth as they locked lips. Once they had their fill of making out after a while, Geo began pushing Evan down onto his knees, to which Evan happily obliged. Geo’s cock stood at full mast, nearly poking one of Evan’s eyes out as he got into position. Evan was in awe as he held the heavy piece of uncut brown meat in his hands. He was drooling just from the sight of it! Not able to restrain himself anymore, Evan dove right in and guided the leaking tip into his mouth.

Arghh… Mmmmm…

Geo let out guttural moans as his friend went down on him. The sound of a man’s deep moans encouraged Evan to service him as best as he physically could. It was almost like he forgot he needed to breathe as he slurped Geo’s entire length up and down with his tongue until it hit the back of his throat. Geo squirmed and grunted obscenely loud as Evan wrapped his cock with his warm, moist mouth. He only lasted a few minutes until he couldn’t hold in his load anymore. Geo held Evan’s head down, his nose pressing against his unruly bush, and let out a loud groan from deep within his lungs as his load came rushing out. Evan whimpered with pleasure as he swallowed Geo’s heavy load, the salty taste of cum filling up his mouth. Once it was done, they both pulled away with a satisfied ahhh!

“Alright, get up. Your turn.”

Geo helped Evan up to his feet, then got down on his knees himself. Evan didn’t deny Geo’s advances, but he also didn’t help him get into position either. He had a blank expression as Geo proceeded to go down on him. Even as he swirled and sucked on his sensitive head, Evan didn’t react or say anything aside from an occasional soft moan. All he could focus on was a prominent cut on the inside of his cheek that he could feel with his tongue. Was that always there? Evan wasn’t sure, but regardless, it was already too late. The damage was done. He had contracted the MM gene from Geo. 

Evan winced as he began to notice a pain growing in the pit of his stomach. It started as a slight ache, but it quickly became unbearable. Evan hunched over, letting a low groan as he held his hands against his side where it hurt the most. It felt like he was being stabbed from the inside out! The next thing he knew, his muscles rapidly stretched and constricted as the gene started rearranging his DNA. 

Because Evan was a non-carrier and his immune system was not already accustomed to suppressing the malignant virus, the MM gene was able to activate without delay and transformed him much faster than Geo. He threw his head back and quietly moaned as the transformation happened. Geo was too busy giving him head to even notice. He just thought he was doing a good job. 

The MM gene was hard at work bringing out Evan’s hidden genetic traits. Although he was only 12.5% Black from his mother’s side, that was more than enough for the virus to play around with. Various points around his skinny body began to inflate with muscle mass. His thin frame and scrawny chicken legs filled in with much-needed mass, giving him sturdy legs with sharp ab lines and impressive cannons for arms. His biceps swelled to the size of melons as his body flexed under the tension of rapid transformation. Evan himself was surprised with how heavy his new body was becoming.

His facial structure shifted and morphed. His nose widened while his jawline became stronger and sharper. A bushy goatee beard grew in where he once could only grow peach fuzz. The once wholly flat-chested Evan Washington now sported two massive slabs of meat resting on his torso. His pecs were firm, strong, and hung low from their own weight. Coupled with bright pink nips, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he now possessed a perfect chest. Although his pale skin tone stayed the same, the MM gene brought his Black features out to the forefront, giving the once undeniably White young man a more visibly biracial appearance by the end of his transformation.

While Evan underwent a total identity change, Geo kept blowing him all the while. Although he did notice a sudden change in Evan’s girth and overall size, the taste of a nice, sweaty cock kept him focused on the task at hand. Geo simply took a breath through his nose and opened his mouth up even wider to keep deepthroating him. Evan’s body was still sensitive from having undergone rapid growth, which only made the pleasure of having his dick sucked sloppily increase tenfold. The veins in his thighs and cock twitched and throbbed as he climaxed and pumped out his thick load straight down Geo’s throat. Geo swallowed, sighed with deep satisfaction, and got up from the ground. 

“Mmm! You know, yours tastes kinda tangy!” Geo gathered and licked up the few stray drops dripping from Evan’s tip. 

Meanwhile, Evan was trembling, struggling to breathe after all the physical stimulation. Only after Geo finished cleaning up the spunky mess did he realize that the Evan standing before him no longer looked like the Evan he once knew.  

“What the— Who are you!! Where’d Evan go?” Geo yelled. Evan turned to look at him, and Geo saw his pupils dilating unnaturally rapidly. “Dude, what’s wrong with your eyes!?”

Evan said nothing in response. The MM gene fried his mind with a heavy concentration of hormones, leaving him in a state of severe brain fog. Evan stumbled forward to the nearby mirror. His cock was still semi-erect. The sight of his own dick was enough to make Evan drool as he admired and flexed his arm muscles. Geo tried calling his attention but to no avail. Evan was unresponsive to his shouts. He had one thing and one thing only on his horny mind. 

“More…” Evan muttered.

“More what?” Geo replied. Evan snapped his line of sight back at Geo. His dazed eyes wandered to Geo’s exposed junk, then narrowed as they met his eyes. He let out a low growl as his eyes suddenly had an intense look that caused Geo to take a few steps back. It was the same look a hungry lion gave a gazelle out in the wild. Geo swallowed his breath. He became acutely aware of the situation he was in.

“Dick! I want more dick!!”

Evan puckered his lips and lunged towards Geo, though Geo managed to sidestep him in time.

“Get away from me! Look man, you might be hot as hell but I’m not interested! I’m a taken man!!” 

Geo quickly gathered his discarded clothes and hightailed it out of the bathroom. Naturally, being in the hyper state that he was, Evan wasn’t going to give up until he got what he craved. He stumbled out of the bathroom stall ass naked, where he was about to run into the perfect target.  

“Man! Today is just not my day,” a bodybuilder mumbled as he walked into the locker room. Dylan was a muscle gay, and he came to the gym solely to go cruising that day. 

However, despite his efforts, he struck out. He was getting sexually frustrated, which made him incredibly willing to hook up with some random stranger in the bathroom. 

Dylan was as equally surprised as he was impressed when Evan stepped out of the stall with his cock out. The smell of sweat and cum hit his nose, arousing him. Dylan loved what he saw and decided to make his move on the muscle-bound hunk.

“Hey there, stud! Need a hand there?” Dylan whistled at Evan, catching his attention.

Evan turned to him. He was still visibly sweaty and was breathing heavily. Dylan wasn’t sure what to make of him, but Evan didn’t give him a chance to reconsider. 

Evan charged at him, planting his lips against his upon impact. Dylan was caught off guard but had no problem matching Evan’s energy. He kissed him back as their frisky hands began feeling up each other’s bodies. Although Dylan loved making out, Evan’s kissing style was quickly turning out to be way too rough for his tastes. Evan forced his tongue in, had an obscene amount of saliva, and even bit down on his bottom lip with enough force to draw blood.

“OWW! What the fuck man!?”

Dylan pushed Evan away and held his bleeding lip. He was glad that there wasn't a lot of blood, but was still rightfully pissed off. As ravenous as he was due to the MM gene, Evan was oblivious to what he had done. Instead, his attention shifted to another guy wearing only a towel near the showers. He ran off in that direction and left Dylan in the dust. 

“Prick…” 

With that, Dylan decided to just give up and get a quick workout in. He took out a rice bar and ate it as he returned to the main area. He did his stretches, picked up a couple of barbells, and claimed an open bench. But just as he was about to start his first set, a powerful hunger overcame him. He grabbed at his stomach and kneeled over in pain as the MM gene took effect.

All of Dylan’s hard-earned muscles melted away within a matter of minutes. He rapidly gained pounds upon pounds of body fat. What were once washboard abs complimented by chiseled biceps were replaced by flabby arms and a protruding, hairy gut. His pecs lost their firmness and began to sag as they became nothing but a pair of man boobs. All the while, the same overwhelming lust Evan had began growing within Dylan too.

A handful of nearby good samaritans came to Dylan’s aid after he collapsed. While they all tried to help Dylan, most stayed back after witnessing his sudden transformation firsthand. Nobody knew what was happening behind the scenes, leading to anxious rumors and worried whispers floating around the gym. While most people were too cautious to get near Dylan, one brave man decided to step forward and help Dylan. Unfortunately, as he tried to help Dylan get up to his feet, Dylan accidentally scratched him on the back. The young man recoiled and dropped Dylan to the ground as a result.

As other people began to help Dylan, the injured man stepped off to the side to tend to his wound. He felt unusually warm as he finished putting on a bandage. He didn’t think much of it and ignored it but soon found himself sweating bullets as he rejoined the group. It got to the point that he needed to take a seat to try to cool off, but it was no use. He soon joined Dylan on the floor, writhing in pain due to contracting the MM gene.

At this point, everyone in the gym had gathered around the two men. The crowd stood back as they bore witness to yet another transformation. They watched in bewilderment as the short man rapidly grew in height. He groaned and gasped in anguish as his limbs stretched out. His torso grew and widened until he had the body of a tall bear. He pawed at the growing tent in his sweats as he thrashed around the floor, massaging his manhood as hormones continued pumping throughout his body. Within minutes, the infected man had gone from a stout 5’4 to a big, burly 6’4.

Although the afflicted man already had a healthy spattering of trimmed body hair, the MM gene forced his hair to grow to what was genetically possible. His body hair grew out beyond what Geo experienced. From his chest and belly to his legs and arms, every hair follicle grew longer and thicker, leaving him a pelt of curly body hair. His facial hair, in particular, grew out the most. His mustache grew longer and longer until it practically covered his mouth! His beard became bushy and unruly with coarse black hair as it reached his chest. All the while, the hair on the top of his head fell out one by one until he had a shiny bald head. He became an unrecognizable version of himself thanks to the MM gene. Once his transformation was over, he sat up and let out a bellowing belch that echoed throughout the gym. 

“Mrmph… Feels sooooo good…”

The crowd of witnesses backed away from the two transformed men. The two men turned to the crowd and smiled. A cold, ominous air filled the atmosphere. A few intuitive individuals saw the writing on the wall and left before shit hit the fan while the majority stayed behind, anxious and confused at what was going on. A few moments filled with tense silence passed, only for it to be broken when Evan came charging in from the men’s locker room and locked lips with the closest man. Almost as if on signal, Dylan and the burly bear joined Evan’s rampage and lashed out, too.

Pandemonium broke out as everyone made a mad dash for the exit. It was like a zombie attack as Evan and the other transformed men attacked every healthy man they could get their hands on. The unfortunate victims contracted the MM gene. Once infected, they, too, succumbed to genetic rearrangements. Some grew insanely muscular, and others became incredibly overweight. Hair was grown and lost; skin colors changed, and every physical feature rearranged until they were completely unrecognizable. All those transformed men wanted nothing more than to kiss, fuck, and spread their seed to as many people as possible until their hyped-up urges were satiated. 

“Shit’s getting crazy out here…” Geo whispered to himself. He poked his head out of the locker room and saw the chaos he unwittingly caused. He wanted nothing to do with the madness and ran out of the gym as fast as he could, though the infected men paid him no attention as he was already one of them. Police were beginning to arrive on the scene as Geo drove away with only one thought: his dinner date with his best friend and crush, Evan. 

Though unfortunately for him, the Evan he knew and loved was long gone. It would only be a matter of time before Geo forgot all about Evan, and his body gradually returned to its original state after the MM gene returned to a state of dormacy.

At least, until the next time Geo or some other carrier falls in love.

***

PUBLIC STATEMENT ISSUED BY THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE

Good evening.

As you may have already heard, a horrific incident has occurred at one of our local gyms. Dozens of men went on a rampage. It took several hours and almost all of our manpower, but our police department has successfully arrested all of the sexually rabid men and have placed them in custody. 

Security camera footage shows that all of these men were physically transformed before attacking. After an initial investigation, medical experts suspect that a rare genetic disorder called the Metamorphosis gene is responsible. Unfortunately, while there were no casualties, some of our own brave policemen were affected by the viral outbreak and were transformed themselves.

Two big questions remain tonight: how did a genetic disorder manage to spread like a virus, and how did these men contract this previously unheard of disorder? The arrested men were questioned about the events that led to this mass riot. None have been able to provide any concrete information. None of them seem to recognize their former identities, citing amnesia and severe migraines as the cause. 

Patient 0 has yet to be found. An active investigation continues as research efforts for a potential cure to the Metamorphosis gene’s effects continue. 

END OF STATEMENT

[fuckmafuyu]

Do You Want to Pump, Bro?

It was a simple question, one that should have been sufficed by a simple “yes” or “no” response. And yet Dylan had no idea how to respond. He had just been opening up Snapchat for the simple maneuvers: run through all the pictures, spam his responses back. The habit took a max of 30 seconds and then he was done for the day, but when he landed on his friend’s snap, prompting the question at hand, Dylan had no response.

It was strange how captivating the picture was. It was still displayed on Dylan’s phone, the picture of his friend all jocked up. Dylan could have sworn his friend had been a gay little nerd just like himself, nothing but a runt that the rest of their colleagues could pick on. But the boy, no, man Snapchat had presented him with was certainly his friend. The brutally masculine, dominating alpha Dylan had known all his life. There was no filter, no added touches, Dylan’s friend was simply the epitome of young manhood. Tanned, muscular, and rightfully superior.

This left Dylan to begin considering what his friend had meant by the question. Maybe his friend was referring to working out, using “pump” in the sense of stretching and exercising one’s muscles. But what did Dylan have to pump? With his scrawny features he was certainly better fit for intellectual over manual labor. His hands were meant to be glued to the keyboard, their features perfect for typing.

Well, not perfect. Dylan’s hands could be a bit clumsy. Being that they were so big, so meaty, his sausage fingers often had a hard time hitting the right keys. It did not help that his arms would often get in the way, so bulky that they would rub up against anything they touched. His sides, other people, Dylan even struggled to get through older doorways. Veiny forearms leading into bulging biceps and triceps, which only expanded his shoulders to accommodate. Dylan was just a wider guy.

And it was not only the fault of Dylan’s arms, to be clear. His torso too was quite the menace. That previously mentioned wide set of shoulders stretched out Dylan’s entire upper chest, structuring a powerful collarbone to perfectly align two plump pectorals. Yes, those were perfect. So firm and pronounced that they sometimes obstructed Dylan’s view if he looked down, which being 6’6 was a considerably long distance. “Perfect” was often also used to describe Dylan’s abdominals, the eight cobblestones stacked sharply beside each other as if they were metal batteries fueling his core.

So what was his friend referring to? Something about the question was catching Dylan’s eye. The swirls within the letters of the font were soothing, absorbing. Maybe his legs? Although Dylan had to admit they were already pretty jacked. Yeah, his quads were carved, his muscles expertly sharp and prominent and never covered by any shorts longer than five inches. Leading past his knees into diamond-shaped calves, admired by other gym-goers constantly. Not only was he tall, but Dylan was built. He had worked hard since high school to prevent his massive legs from becoming stick-like. 

Sure, sometimes he had prioritized getting in a sick workout over anything else, like spending time with the bros or in class, but it had worked out in the end. Without that extra effort, Dylan would not have been able to brag about his entire figure. From the giant-sized feet to the perfect lantern jaw. There it was again, that word, perfect. Dylan smirked to himself as he mentally listed other things about him that were perfect. His perfectly musky pits, his perfectly sultry baritone. People loved Dylan’s perfectly sculpted locks, and his perfectly sculpted buttocks. And the lucky ones got to love his perfect giant balls and cock.

Dylan felt his mighty python grow hard at that idea. Yeah, maybe that was what his bro was referring to. Maybe his bro wanted to pump his cock. But with that thought, Dylan’s boner faltered. No, his bro wanted to find some chicks to pump their cocks. Nothing gay or anything, just two bros getting laid together. Dylan’s cocky sneer grew wider as he began to palm himself. Yeah, his babymaker could use some attention. But, to be fair, it could always use some attention. Especially from some busty, airheaded bimbos.

Finally closing the picture from his bro, Dylan adjusted himself and casually flexed before snapping his reply shot. His massive fingers typed out the question on their own, filling out the preordered prompt before pressing the send button. Dylan did not realize though that instead of just replying to his bro, he had sent it to all his Snapchat contacts. But he did not care, he had better things to worry about. Like pumping his muscles, and getting some babes to pump his cock.

[fuckmafuyu]

Can you turn me into a stupid horny Italian frat bro?

As you stroll down the street, the familiar hum of life buzzes around you, but a flash of bright signage catches your eye: Morningstar MakeOvers. Curiosity piqued, you step inside, only to be whisked away by an exuberant gentleman clad in a black suit. His infectious energy draws you in, leading you to a sleek barber chair with an overly dramatic flair.

With swift, precise snips, he begins working on your hair, layering in copious amounts of gel. Soon, your hair transforms into a voluminous, tousled mop, seemingly defying gravity yet slicked with an almost comical sheen. As you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a wave of confusion washes over you, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.

Suddenly, you notice a deep, almost absurd tan blooming on your skin, radiating as if you’ve just stepped off a sun-drenched beach. You shift in your seat, swaying slightly, unaware of how your frame seems to shrink just a bit. A cocky smirk creeps across your face, and as your thoughts begin to slow, all you can focus on is the exhilaration of working out and partying—endless cycles of flexing and fun.

Then, a tingling sensation courses through your muscles, a tightness signaling something monumental is shifting within you. The ache is both foreign and strangely exhilarating, like that sweet burn after an intense leg day. You can almost feel every fiber of your being vibrating with potential as if the very essence of hard work is being injected into your cells. You watch, bewildered, as your physique begins to morph. Muscles inflate with every heartbeat, and you feel the surge of power course through your body. Your once-scrawny frame seems to melt away, replaced by a chiseled physique that embodies dedication and effort. It’s as if a sculptor is chiseling away at a block of marble, revealing the masterpiece hidden within.

Your shoulders broaden, each deltoid filling out, creating an impressive V-shape that makes your waist appear even smaller. The snug tank top clings to your skin, accentuating your big pecs that swell with newfound mass, their shape perfectly defined, ready to burst from the fabric. You flex instinctively, and the swell of your chest feels electric, a proud testament to countless hours spent bench pressing and pushing through pain.

As you gaze into the mirror, your arms transform into well-defined biceps, the veins pulsating beneath the surface like braided cords, adding a touch of fierce intensity. Each flex feels involuntary yet satisfying, as if your body is eager to show off the hard-earned results of your dedication. Your forearms thicken, the muscles rippling under your skin, reminding you of the countless curls that have brought you to this moment.

You notice your abs begin to pop, each ridge sculpted to perfection, a six-pack emerging as a testament to your relentless commitment to fitness. They feel tight and powerful, a reminder of those grueling core workouts that had you gasping for breath but ultimately rewarding you with a solid foundation. Your back widens, lats expanding and pulling taut against your shirt, giving you that imposing silhouette. You feel a new confidence radiating from within, a potent blend of strength and self-assuredness that feels intoxicating.

The pain is sharp yet thrilling, a tugging sensation coursing from your core to every extremity. Your abs feel like a sculptor’s masterpiece—every ridge and line a testament to effort and discipline. It’s as if a new identity is rising within you, the ache in your muscles echoing the thrill of newfound strength.

Your face morphs to match this new physique: a strong jawline emerges, sun-kissed skin glowing with confidence, and a hint of stubble adds a rugged charm. Your eyes, now intense and framed by perfectly groomed brows, glint with a swagger you’ve never possessed before. You catch sight of the cocky grin on your face, revealing a perfect set of teeth that gleam with a hint of vanity.

Yet, it’s the overall attitude that envelops you, blending bravado with a laid-back swagger. You’re becoming the life of the party—always ready to flex, always primed for the next round of fun. You can feel the playful ache of your bubble butt, a reminder that leg day has been your best friend. This new form is an exhilarating transformation, a promise of endless possibilities, and as you revel in the blissful pain, you can’t help but embrace the chaotic magic of it all.

Your barbro finishes his work, running a final brush through your newly coiffed hair. He smirks knowingly, cocking an eyebrow. "So, bro---you wanna shot?

You nearly leap out of the chair, barely containing your excitement. "FUCK yes!" you bellow, stumbling to your feet. In the mirror, you admire your rippling muscles, flexing your biceps and calves. The booze hits your tongue, warping your mind. Suddenly, all you can think about is being the loudest, most obnoxious bro at the bar. You grab the first available bottle of whiskey and slam a shot.

Downing the liquor, you stride out of the barber shop, eyes scanning for any sissy or faggots you can insult. Spotting a group of guys eyeing you up, you saunter over and loom over them with a sneer. "Yo, listen up bitches," you growl. "I'm your worst fucking nightmare. When I'm done with you pathetic losers, you'll regret ever being born."

One of the guys stammers nervously, "Wh-what do you want?" You grab him by the collar and shove his face into your crotch. "I want to smell your fear, you little bitch. Now run along before I make you my bitch."

You can almost hear the echoes of laughter and shouts from those chaotic school days, flunking out of high school or was it getting kicked out for beating up one too many fags? Then there were the family dinners at your ma’s house, where the rich aromas of garlic and simmering sauces filled the air. Gathered around the table, the warmth of your Italian heritage enveloped you, every dish served with a side of boisterous storytelling and laughter.

That heritage seeped into everything you did, from the way you greeted friends with loud, enthusiastic hugs to the way you insisted on sharing your latest workout achievements with the same passion you brought to family traditions. You wore that heritage proudly, each moment colored by the flavors and exuberance of your background.

And then there was the gym—oh, the gym. It became your second home, a sanctuary of sweat and determination. You spent countless days and nights there, grunting through sets, pushing your limits, all in the quest to be the biggest, most obnoxious bro around. You relished the stares and the camaraderie with fellow lifters, turning every rep into a performance. Every lift was a declaration of your commitment, your laughter echoing off the walls as you flexed in the mirror, basking in the glory of your hard work.

You find yourself in a seedy dive bar, the air thick with the stale scent of cheap liquor and cigarette smoke. The dim lighting casts harsh shadows across the grimy walls, adding to the dive bar ambiance. You look down and see a small gold cross worming its way around your neck—a subtle mark of ownership, signifying that you belong to someone powerful and dangerous.

The intoxicating scent envelops you as you survey the bar's denizens—the typical Jersey Shore reject, your bros and the sluttiest women with the biggest tits you've ever seen. You know they don't deserve your attention, but that's what makes this your church, your domain to control. With a loud bark, you slam a fist on the bar. "Shot, girl," you growl at a busty waitress, her low-cut blouse straining against her ample breasts. She bites her plump bottom lip as she fetches the liquor, the movement causing her nipples to poke visibly against the thin fabric.

Your blood runs hot as she slides a whiskey in front of you, her hand lingering on your arm as she leans in close to whisper something in your ear. "Coming right up, stud," she purrs seductively, her breasts pressing against your bicep. Your mind grows foggy and unfocused, the potent liquor mingling with your own adrenaline to fuel the growing hunger inside you.

A nearby patron catches your eye, his pale cheeks flushing crimson at the sight of you looming over the bar. A weak attempt at flattery leaves his lips as he mumbles, "Nice cross dude" Rage bubbles up within you at the disrespect. What do you, the apex predator, have to say about their opinion?

The urge to lunge over the bar and throttle him for daring to address you that way nearly overtakes you. Instead, you stand abruptly, the cross of your name blazing with vicious intent. In a single fluid motion, you wrap a fist around the faggot's throat, slamming him up against the wall with bruising force. He scrabbles desperately at your grip as you squeeze his neck and throw him down. Just chuckling at the pathetic loser who thought he could go up against you, the bar cheers at their leader. The warm, wet heat of your cock begins to swell in your pants, throbbing with desire as you set your sights on the busty waitress bending over the bar, her skirt riding up to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of lacy panties. You can almost taste her sweet arousal, smell the musky scent of her dripping pussy as she leans in closer, offering herself up to you like a bitch in heat.

Memories of drunken, wild nights flood your brain—tearing through the streets of Jersey with your crew, finding any pretty piece of ass that catches your eye. You grab them roughly, pinning them against the nearest wall as you ravage their mouths with animalistic fervor. They moan and writhe beneath you, their tight holes clenching around your rock-hard shaft as you pound into them mercilessly. You can still feel their fluttering walls gripping you as you paint their insides with your seed, marking them as yours.

Just as the memories start to fade, a fresh surge of lust washes over you, your cock surging to full hardness. You imagine all the deliciously tight holes you could claim, the countless women who would surrender themselves to your dominant embrace. You feel a growl rumble in your chest as you picture all the depraved acts you could inflict upon them—choking them with your cock until they black out, forcing them to swallow your load down their throats. The thought of violating every hole they possess sends shivers down your spine.

[fuckmafuyu]

Empty your mind, bro. You don't need to think about anything. All you need to do is let these words make their way into your brain and fill it with nothing but what actually matters.

This is your life now, bro.

[fuckmafuyu]

Empty your mind, bro. You don't need to think about anything. All you need to do is to accept into your brain the words that describe who you really are. Reclaim them. You were born to rule.

[fuckmafuyu]

In all seriousness, broification is one of the best changes you can bring about yourself.

Bros foster a chill mindset. We live in the present because it's here where all the fun happens; and we live in the present because the present is the only moment where we can put in the work for the future.

We are drama-free. We have no time for bullshit when we can use that time and mindspace to focus on what matters to us.

We live in brotherhood. There is no bond like the one between bros.

Some people will call you selfish for focusing on your body, but those same ""selfless"" people will never know the feeling of taking their bodies to the limit; of physically knowing their bodies; of chasing a healthy lifestyle; of focusing on simple things in life. It doesn't take much to make us happy.

I'll proudly take being called "dumb", "cocky", "meathead", or anything if that means I'm living a life where I'm happy and not hurting anyone--a life where I focus on being better than who I was yesterday.

It's your life, bro. Are you living it for you or are you living it for them?

[fuckmafuyu]

A note for the guys just starting out on their gym broification journey:

You'll most likely feel like a fish out of the water in the gym when you begin. That's normal. It can take months to even over a year for you to feel like you "belong" in the gym.

Stay persistent. Working out is a process of adaptation for both your body and your mind. For some people, that adaption is easier and faster; for others, not so much. Regardless, it's a fact you'll face challenges on the way. Stay persistent.

It's quite common for beginners to give up in their first few months. Working out can be uncomfortable. Some days you won't want to go to the gym for whatever reason. You'll make mistakes. You'll likely do something that'll make you feel embarrassed. The results won't come as fast as you think they should. Stay persistent.

Eventually, one day, you'll notice yourself missing the gym on your rest days. Your body will be screaming to exercise. You'll try adding some heavier plates to the barbell just to experiment and notice you can actually lift it. You'll hear someone say that your body looks different. You'll move that furniture or carry those grocery bags and notice they don't feel as heavy as they did before. And you know why? You stayed persistent.

Your form during the exercises is much better. You know what exercises hit what muscles. You know how to isolate muscles. You can spot form mistakes that you used to make. You'll actually feel like you know what you're doing, even if there's still a lot to learn.

You'll look at the other gym goers around you, especially the bros, and not feel that different from them. Sure, a lot of them might be way bigger and more experienced than you, but that "fish out of the water" feeling starts to dissipate. Because you stayed persistent.

You'll wonder why you didn't start going to the gym before and you just can't see yourself without it anymore. Congratulations. You're a gym bro.

Stay. Persistent.

[fuckmafuyu]

"Of course you'll have a place with us, dude! Like, 1/3 of the boys used to be nerds like you until they started hitting the gym and hanging out with us. My best bros, they used to be nerds too. No, not kidding. Hold on, lemme find a photo of us.

Here. That's Cody on the left and Chris on the right. Cody used to have his face buried in books all the fucking time. Well, he still does, except the book now is Starting Strength. Dude reads and re-reads that book like a priest reads the Bible. He just hit a new deadlift PR last night.

Chris here was always a scrawny kid. Now he's a beast of a quarterback. We've been on a winning streak for a while now and he's one of the best in our team. That guy's going places.

But now it's your turn, bro. I'm glad you came to us. I'll be the one personally overseeing your transformation. We start in the gym tomorrow. Football practice begins next week. We have parties every weekend too. I'm gonna introduce you to the guys soon. You're gonna love 'em.

Congratulations, bro. You're one of us now."

[fuckmafuyu]

A bro will always stand out among the crowd. Literally.

Some people will make comments about how a bro places way too much importance on his body or that he's too "self-absorbed", but they secretly envy what he has. They envy his confidence and they envy his determination to achieve his goals.

But those who look past those things and see a bro for who he truly is, they know there's no better company to have. A bro brings joy wherever he goes. His high energy and upbeatness make him the life of whatever event, gathering, or hang out he happens to be in. He's there to have fun and he wants to make sure everyone around him is having a great time.

A bro is also patient and diligent. The consistency and patience required to achieve his physique has taught him many lessons in discipline, which he carries over with him in every aspect of his life.

A bro will push you to be your best self. He's the one who'll give you a warm, wide smile when you say you're "ready to give this gym thing a try". He'll be the one nudging you to get more serious about your fitness journey and he'll be happy to show you how to perform that difficult exercise. And when you finally hit that PR, he'll be the one cheering alongside you.

A bro is one of the most chill people you'll ever meet. When life becomes about enjoying the moment, working on yourself and your body, becoming the man you want to become, and engaging in your hobbies, there's no time for drama or feeding negativity. He's not interested in that. Instead, a bro's energy will bring about the realization that life is here to be lived and appreciated in its simplicity.

Sure, a bro may put a lot of importance on his fitness life and he can be cocky, but being a bro is much more than that. Appreciate the bros in your life.

[fuckmafuyu]

If you're going through broification/jockification, you might feel like your friendships are missing that "bro energy" that you need. I want you to know that that's a completely natural feeling. There is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to seek out new frienships.

I'm by no means saying you should ditch your current friends, especially if they have been good friends (don't do that!). But the deeper you dive into the bro lifestyle, the more you'll feel the need to surround yourself with other bros.

Honestly, that just comes with the territory. A big part of being a bro is the community aspect. Not only does it give you people to share your new hobbies with (fitness, sports, whatever), but there's also an element of bonding over male experiences. If you've been doing this for a while, you might feel an increasing need of having dudes you can just be a dude with.

Again, those feelings are a very natural and valid part of the broification/jockification process. Embrace them and go find your bros. Your "inner bro" needs other guys to connect with. He wants to come out and be himself among his equals. Let him.

[fuckmafuyu]

Former Friend

As you walk through the gym you visit from time to time you see a face that you kinda recognize.

It's a random douchebag gym bro that's filming himself next to one of the machines, but his face... wait, isn't that Brandon? Yeah, that's him. But also... not him?

Because Brandon was a 5'8 twink, who spend his days dancing to Lady Gaga and buying new make up products.

This was a 6'2 neanderthal, who was currently playing with his dick and flexing his arms. But the face was too similar for this to be a mistake.

You decide to walk up to him, to maybe ask him what happened.

But before you say a word, he looks at you and stands up.

You stop and watch as he walks up to you, then looks down.

"fuuuuuuuuuck dude" His voice is low, and screams 'dumb jock'. "needed a liftin' bro for a while." He lets out a low, dumb chuckle. "Guess I found one. So sick, brah"

[fuckmafuyu]

Hey there! Becoming a dumb, stinky redneck would be sooooo hot...

You hear a knock at the door, an unexpected interruption in your quiet day. Confused, you head over to investigate, opening the door to find a small box sitting on the ground. There’s no recollection of ordering anything, but your name is printed on the label in a hasty scrawl. Curiosity piqued, you bring it inside, setting it down on the table.

As you open the package, a wave of unease washes over you. Inside, there’s nothing but a small, unremarkable can of body spray. You hold it up, examining the label, when, without thinking, you accidentally spray yourself in the face. A sudden, sharp smell fills the air—a faint whiff of used gym socks that quickly intensifies.

As the pungent scent wraps around you, a warm sensation spreads through your limbs. Your muscles start to shift and swell, as if being pumped up by some unseen force. The tightness in your biceps intensifies, veins snaking like bold rivers across the surface, showcasing newfound strength. Each tricep and shoulder begins to expand, the fabric of your shirt straining against the burgeoning mass beneath.

Your chest swells outward, pectorals bulging, defined and powerful, the faintest sheen of sweat glistening across the surface. You feel the fabric of the tank top cling tighter, the material barely containing the raw energy radiating from your form. A faint thud echoes as your heart races, matching the rhythm of the transformation.

The muscles in your back ripple and flare, thickening into a robust V-shape, the power radiating through your core. You catch a glimpse of your reflection, and the rugged, sun-kissed skin is marked with scars—each a testament to the grit of hard labor and wild escapades. The warmth of the reddish tan feels almost primal, as if it’s a badge of honor earned through years spent under the sun.

As your quads thicken, the very fabric of your jeans seems to stretch and strain, the definition becoming more pronounced with every pulse of energy. Your calves grow solid, like rocks, capable of propelling you forward with sheer force. It’s intoxicating—the raw vitality surging through you feels both exhilarating and overwhelming.

Yet, the relentless smell remains—a blend of stale beer, unwashed underwear, and that lingering fart, wrapping you in a cloak of unapologetic masculinity. You’re no longer just an observer; you’re becoming a living embodiment of the rough, unrefined spirit of the redneck life.

As you blink, a pounding headache starts to emerge, each throb matching the relentless stench surrounding you. You glance around, and suddenly you’re no longer in your pristine apartment but in a ratty, disgusting trailer. The floors are littered with crushed beer cans, remnants of past nights spent in revelry. Used, unwashed clothes are strewn everywhere, some draped over free weights that sit like forgotten relics of a once-ambitious workout routine.

The walls are adorned with peeling posters of hunting scenes and some blonde bimbos, while the air is thick with a mix of stale smoke and something decidedly worse—like the aftermath of too many late-night barbecues. The headache intensifies, and the reality of your surroundings sinks in. You’re now in this rugged, chaotic space, and it’s as if the very essence of this hick life has seeped into your bones, leaving you feeling both bewildered and strangely invigorated. As the musky scent of the body spray bottle shifts to the sharp, crisp cold beer, you chuckle heartily. A deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through your newly-chiseled chest. You unscrew the cap of the bottle with a deft twist of your claw-like fingers, already half-drunk on the idea of indulging in your new favorite vice.

You take a long swig, feeling the icy liquid dance along your throat. It soothes the burning ache building behind your eyes, easing the throbbing between them. The TV flickers to life, the bland faces of Fox News hosts filling the screen. Right on cue, your normally sharp mind begins to slow, each thought fuzzy and indistinct. You watch in detached fascination as your worldview shifts, perspectives warping to align with the most conservative talking points you've ever heard.

One hand drifts down to cup your burgeoning erection through your pants, giving it a casual squeeze. It twitches eagerly beneath your palm, already half-hard and straining against the confining denim. A beautiful blonde bimbo materializes on screen, all big fake tits and glossy lips. Her low-cut top strains to contain her ample assets as she leans forward, a coy smile playing across her painted lips.

You groan at the sight, a low, primal sound that catches in your throat. Your cock pulses under your touch, hot and eager for attention, the swelling member straining against the confines of the fabric. Pre-cum bubbles at the tip as your thumb circles the throbbing head through the fabric barrier, teasing the sensitive flesh until you're almost panting from the lack of stimulation. The bimbo continues to flaunt her barely restrained tits on the screen, drawing your attention back like a moth to a flame even as a part of your brain struggles to understand what's come over you. The sudden shift towards the right makes perfect sense now - conservative views always held a particular appeal for the simple and uncomplicated.

A growl rises in the back of your throat and you shrug out of your jacket impatiently. The smell of stale body odor still lingers beneath the sweet bouquet of fermented hops and heavy metal riffs wafting in from somewhere nearby. In the confines of this trashy hovel, however, even that scent becomes almost inviting - a tangible reminder that everything is bigger and dirtier and better than the clean, safe world you came from.

A wince escapes your nostrils as you take a deep whiff of the stagnant air in your cramped living space. The combined aromas of stale sweat, week-old beer, unwashed gym socks and old cigarette butts assault your olfactory system. But unlike the overwhelming stench of moldy foot that normally fills your nose in a typical bachelor pad, these smells have an earthiness to them now. Like a musk of well-used gym mats, dried semen, and countless cans of beer.

You stroke yourself idly as the sultry blonde continues her coy schtick on Fox Business, one hand trailing lower to grope at your pulsing cock through your pants. It kicks up the volume of your grunting, each movement coaxing more pre-cum onto your fingertips until it dribbles down your thigh and stains the denim a lurid wet spot. Goddammit, it feels so good to let go. No more thinking about things that are good for you, no more fighting those base urges that live for indulgence in pleasure at every turn.

You inhale deeply, drawing in the rancid stench of your den of sin. The stink of unwashed gym socks mingles with stale sweat from weeks of hard living, forming a pungent yet oddly arousing perfume in this fetid space. Beer fumes tickle your nostrils, sweet and sour and headier than any brew you ever drank in college. A whiff of sex lingers in the air as well, mingling with the other odors. It's ripe and musty, thick with pheromones and body fluids. Just the bouquet you'd expect from the trailer of a red-blooded, foul-mouthed, horny-as-shit hobo.

Your fist clenches around your aching prick, giving it a few rough pumps as you eye the blonde bombshell sashaying across the TV screen. Each stroke brings fresh bursts of pre-cum drooling from the swollen cockhead, staining your zipper with pearly streaks. Your other hand skims up the curve of your abs to wrap loosely around your own neck. The muscles are rock-solid beneath your palms, even more defined than you'd ever been back home in your corporate cocoon.

[fuckmafuyu]

I had a dream once I found a pair of cleats and tried them on, and transformed into a big, dumb, horny football jock, then came load after load of cum , all sweaty and drooling as my new team arrived. How I wish I could experience that, do you know a way?

Huh, a dream you say? And just once? Part of me doubts that. And I can tell by how you’re blushing that you’ve likely had this dream a few times. And each time, you’ve woken up with your boxers soaked with jizz. Okay, okay... maybe I didn’t need to call you out like that. Anyway.... A big, dumb, horny football jock. Look, I’m not here to judge, but are you... of course you are.... Sigh.... Well, I’ll stop wasting our time. Risks yada yada, things going wrong yada yada... You get the point. Now follow me...

You follow close behind as I lead us through a few pairs of double doors. I have to unlock a few more doors and suddenly, we find ourselves within a large warehouse. There are thousands of articles of clothing. Underwear, socks, athletic shirts... you look around in awe.

Yes, I know, very impressive. We have a lot of magical items that we’ve collected over the years. Let me just grab a pair of gloves... Some of these items are quite potent actually. Like just a touch and bam! Stupid jock! Okay, maybe not that dramatic, but... And here we go! A pair of red football cleats... Just like in your dream? Well, what can I say, I’m a miracle worker. Okay, I’ll put them down right here. Look at that, they’re brand new too, they even have the paper still stuffed in them... Just give me one second, I have to grab a special tool. I can tell this pair is quite potent.... Wait... Don’t try to remove the paper with your... Fuck.... Didn’t I say... Hey! Don’t get too close!

The cleats are stuck around your hands. You’re shaking your hands, looking up at me desperately. No matter how much you flail, they seem locked in place. You’re breathing heavily. A sense of panic filling you. Something feels very wrong. You feel warmer and you’re sweating profusely.

This is very bad... Okay, give me a second to just... what do you mean your hands hurt? Oh fuck... Ok not good, not good... I need to...

You cry out as you feel your hands start to shift and change within the cleats. It feels like your hands are lengthening, while your fingers are painful shortened. But it’s not just your feet. You watch as your forearms start to shift and change. Packing on muscle that more resembles thick calves rather than forearms.

Oh yeah, these cleats are quite potent. Okay... uh, I would be lying if I said I’ve dealt with this before. This is something we in the business call a... okay yeah, maybe I’ll spare you the details. But... Oh careful now!

Your legs suddenly give way and you’ve fallen onto you’re abdomen. You let out another cry as your arms start to shift and change even more. They’re forced above your head and you yelp as thick muscle starts to fill in. Your once mediocre arms are now a set of two built legs, crushing your head in between new thighs. But the pain in your new legs pales in comparison to the feelings from your dick. It’s throbbing in a mixture of pain, then pleasure. You feel nauseous as the room is filled with the sounds of your body cracking and shifting. Yet you moan as your body continues its metamorphosis.

Oh fascinating... I’ve never seen this before... So the pecs become the abs, and the abs become the pecs. Fuck, they're getting huge too... What am I talking about? It’s uh... oh! Give me a second! Well, hello there... Huh, still barely a whisper... Who am I talking to? Well, uh... it’s complicated. But...

You yelp when you suddenly feel your body push itself up. You’re forced to look down at the floor, and it feels like you’re doing a handstand. You clearly see the red cleats,  and the firm calf and thigh muscles that used to be your arms. You try to crane your neck to look up, but are unable to.

Well fuck... this is, uh... What did you say? I can’t... your voice is a bit garbled now... Something salty? Yeah... I think that might be semen... Really? Come on, isn’t is obvious? Are you getting the idea now? Oh, don’t look at me like that, there were risks...

You yelp as a firm hand suddenly wraps around your neck. You’re afraid you won’t be able to breath, but instead, you just feel the salty liquid leave your lips. And as the hand moves up and down, more of it dribbles from your mouth. You try to speak, but you find your mouth has been forced to remain in a small “O” shape, no matter how desperately you try to move it. Worse yet, you watch as your hair falls from your head, decorating the floor beneath you.

Yeah, I doubt he’s gonna be able to talk much at this stage... So what did you say your name was....? Brett? Makes sense, you definitely look like a Brett. I gotta say, watching your arms grow in was quite the sight. And the muscle here... your biceps are so firm... oh sorry... right I’ll let you finish...

The deep moans that fill the air are not your own. You’ve never heard moans like this before. But soon your vision and hearing dwindle significantly. Instead, all you can feel is the rough calloused hand that jerks your hardened body, as well as the stream of cum that’s leaving your new mouth. And as the pressure builds and builds, so does the pleasure. It’s numbing. Numbing to the point you feel your complex thinking dwindle. All you can focus on is pleasure. Anyway, anyhow. And then you feel it. Cum bursts from your new mouth, and Brett lets out a loud moan, falling back against the wall. You feel your body softening, your mind only able to focus on your need for more.

Okay... I guess I’ll be cleaning that up... Oh? What’s happening? The room is spinning and... Wait, where are we...? The locker room? Damn, those cleats were potent... Oh sorry, you gotta get ready for your game. And I can hear your teammates coming in... Wait... You’re already getting hard again? And you’re already leaking? Shit... Well, I guess this isn’t what we expected. But, you’re certainly a horny, dumb football jock. And you’re certainly drooling there quite a bit, just in time for your team to see.... Well I guess I should go....Huh? Wait for you...? After the game...? In the locker room...? Sigh.... you stupid jock types are my weakness... see you soon...

[fuckmafuyu]

My Bull Roommate

Brandon was lying on the bed, naked and sweaty. I stood beside him, exhausted and stunned. I kept looking at his cock, still hard and covered in cum. His gaze was lost in the void, but his wide smile left no doubt. He had loved it. Who knows if he would have remembered any of it.

It had all started a week earlier. Brandon and I had been roommates for a year now, sharing the rent of a small apartment downtown to save money. He worked a little out of town, I did smart-working from my room, so we only shared evenings together if we were both home. Aside from sharing some hobbies from our teenage years, we couldn't have been more different. I was the classic nerd always on the ball with PCs, video games, anime and TV series, he was the classic athletic, gym-loving guy. He had gym equipment in his room and he worked out every day to maintain his toned body, muscular in all the right places, his proud six-pack, his defined chest and his veiny arms. When he was home, I often heard him exercising in his room, emitting grunts and spreading a strong smell of sweat throughout the apartment, forcing me to open the windows to let in clean air.

However, what separated us most of all were our sexual tastes: although he had no problem with my homosexuality, he was an unyielding pussy lover. No matter how many times he took a chick home, it was never enough for him; he had a cocky attitude that drove women crazy on the first date, but he was not made for a stable relationship, so all his affairs left quickly with no return ever again. Anyway, there was no doubt that he was an inveterate straight guy, always talking about pussy like a horny pervert, as if he couldn't help himself. Precisely because I couldn't fit into certain conversations, I tried to find other interests in common. We therefore occasionally got together after dinner to watch something on TV. It was during these moments that I began to feel something toward him; let's face it, nothing sentimental -- honestly, he was too stupid for a real relationship -- but his physique was so hot and his mind so simple that I could not resist his masculine charm. With the arrival of summer he then began to wear shorts and tank tops around the house more and more, consequently feeding my kinky fantasies.

One day, as I had just finished masturbating thinking about him fucking me on his bed, I decided to take action and attempt an experiment I had heard about on the deep web. After all, we were both single and he wasn't exactly the smartest person in the world, so I had nothing to lose.

That evening, when we settled on the couch ready to watch a new episode of an anime, I instead played the video I had downloaded the previous morning. I closed my eyes and waited a couple of minutes. Brandon barely uttered a few syllables, as if to ask what the reason for my behavior was, and then sank into a silence broken only by his heavy breaths. Remaining with my eyes closed, I put the pair of headphones I had previously connected to the television set into his ears. By the time I opened my eyes again, the blue spiral on the screen had faded, while Brandon stood there beside me, his half-closed eyes directed at the screen, his body sunk into the couch, his arms dangling, his tongue out and a dumb grin letting a few drops of saliva go on his shorts. I couldn't believe it, it had worked. I took off the headphones and talked to him.

"Brandon, can you hear my voice?"

He nodded his head.

"Very well Brandon. From tomorrow, every time you walk through the door of this house, you will start to feel attraction towards me and you will not be able to think of anything else, it will be your only thought. You will need to be close to me, to touch me, to kiss me, to fuck me. You will have an empty mind ready to obey me. And once you leave, you will believe that absolutely nothing has happened, you will not remember anything, and you will live your life normally as always. Okay?"

He nodded his head again.

"Good, now you can wake up."

As he returned to his normal state, as if nothing had happened, I pushed play and started the anime. He looked around bewildered for a moment, but asked no questions, returning his focus to the TV a few seconds later. In the meantime, I looked at his chest, his bare, muscular arms, his crotch, looking forward to the next day.

It was a disappointment to see him walk into the house the next evening as if nothing had happened. I was ready on the sofa, intent on witnessing the results of my experiment. He said hello as usual and went into his room. What a fool I had been. However, the surprise came after dinner. We got on the couch again and started watching TV until I felt him standing next to me. He had put his arm around my shoulders, lying his legs in the opposite direction. He smiled as he looked into my eyes, then returned to the anime on the screen. I could feel his arm behind the back of my head, could smell his armpits intoxicating my nose. I got hard. Perhaps something had happened then, perhaps it was just a matter of patience. Maybe just repeating the process would be enough to settle even more into his mind. By now it was too late to restart the spiral, so I put it off until the next day. The next evening, just like two days ago, his eyes were again lost in the spiral that faded on the screen, the saliva flowing from his lips.

"Brandon, you must desire me, do you understand?"

He nodded, letting go a weak "yes."

"Very well, every time you walk through that door I will have to be your only thought. Just pretend I'm one of those hot girls you like so much. Use me as you would use one of them. Obey me as if I were one of them who will then reward you with pleasure. Then forget everything when you are out of this house, understood?"

Yes, he repeated. I decided this time, however, to go further, should it ever be necessary to establish some sort of imprinting.

"Raise your arm, Brandon."

He obeyed, revealing his hairy armpit. I reached up to breathe in his masculine scent, letting it penetrate deep into my nostrils. Undeterred, I stuck out my tongue and licked it voraciously, touching myself in the process. It was such an intense experience, so absurd, that it didn't take me long to cum. Squirts even landed on his shorts, in his utter indifference. I cleaned everything up, told him to return present. He, as if nothing had happened, woke up and asked no questions. As soon as the anime began, without delay he put his arm around me and dragged me toward himself. I spent the evening with my cheek on his chest, lost in his scent and in the excitement of what I would be able to do with him.

The next evening it really happened. He walked into the house normally, but after a few steps he dropped his backpack and jacket on the floor and stared at me blankly while I was on the couch, his mouth drolling.

I told him to come closer and he continued with slow steps. I told him to go and get settled in his room, dressing as he used to do at home. He obeyed. I told him to prepare dinner for both of us, and he complied. As little as it concerned the dinner, I told him to behave normally and that at the snap of my fingers he should return to desire and obey me. We talked about this and that as if nothing had happened, it was almost enjoyable, not least because I was already foretasting what would happen next, unbeknownst to him. Dinner finished, I snapped my fingers. While the dirty dishes were still on the table, I took him by the hand and led him to the sofa. He sank into the cushions.

"Take off your tank top."

He undressed, revealing his toned chest. It was hairy, with a fine layer of small black hairs around the nipples and along the abdomen toward his navel, giving it a manly and inviting look. I got hard instantly. I then bent down on my knees in front of his crotch.

"You did well with the dinner, Brandon. Now you deserve a reward. I'm going to give you a blowjob. It will be the best you've ever had in your life, got it?"

He nodded, smiling slightly. I lowered his shorts and boxers just enough to reveal, to my surprise, his already hard cock. It wasn't huge, but it was quite big, surrounded by the right amount of hair to make it virile. I touched it with my hands and brought it close to my lips, slowly beginning to swallow it. Brandon closed his eyes and began to pant, he had the look of someone who had never received a blowjob in his life. As I tasted his pre-sperm, I smelled the scent of his pubes and felt his cock vibrating between my lips, in spasms of excitement. He began to throb within a couple of minutes and then came in my mouth copiously. While still feeling his semen run down my throat, I straddled him and moved closer to his face, whispering in his ear.

"This is the prize for a good stud bull, Brandon. When you step through that door, it's just me, it's just my mouth, my cock, and my ass. You don't need your brain, you just need your body. No thoughts, just me. Only sex, as soon as I snap my fingers. Clear?"

"Yeeeeeeees."

He let go of this long approval, as his cock continued to release little spurts of jizz and on his face he still have a mere smile and vacant eyes. I helped him recompose and clean himself, then snapped my fingers again. We spent the evening cuddled on the couch, my face lying on his belly, a few inches from his cock hidden in his shorts.

It had been a week since I had the idea, and I knew tonight was the night. I plopped down on the couch as soon as I finished work, thrilled. The thought of his body on mine, his manly, smug look. He walked in the door, greeted me by taking off his backpack and jacket, and instead of disappearing into his room, he leaned in as if to kiss me except that, a moment before, he drew back. Something inside him resisted. At that point I snapped my fingers.

I was surprised not to see again the dazed look of the previous evenings. His eyes went from being concerned to burning with passion. He grabbed me and kissed me, sticking his tongue firmly in my mouth, putting his hands around my face. We lay down on the couch, stripped and began to make out. His body on mine as he licked every inch of my skin, going from my neck and then down, down relentlessly, until he took off my sweatpants and underwear. At that point he looked at my hard cock standing between my legs as if it were something sacred, his mouth drooling and his eyes magnetized. A few seconds passed, then, without further ado, he took my cock into his mouth. I moaned loudly. His head moved up and down rhythmically, it didn't even feel like the first blowjob of his life, he was doing it like it was the most beautiful fucking thing in the world. He was seeking my gaze, in a mixture of approval and seduction. I was so shocked by the movements of his tongue that it didn't take me long to cum. When I had finished filling his mouth he looked at me with lustful eyes, his lips still leaking my seed on the sofa.

He took off his pants, revealing his rock-hard cock to me. It looked even bigger than the day before. He pointed at it. I didn't think twice about returning the favor; I got down on my knees and took him in my mouth while he stood, breathing in the smell of his pubes still sweaty from the workday. My cock became hard again in an instant as I heard him moo. The stud bull phrase from the day before must have inspired him more than necessary. This time, however, I didn't make him cum; I stopped shortly before. He looked at me as if he was about to hurt me, in a mixture of anger and discontent.

Today it had to end in a different way, but he did not know it yet. I got up and went close to his ear.

"Fuck me, you stud bull."

He took my hand passionately and led me down the hallway to his room. His bedroom smelled of testosterone and gym leather, his sweaty gym equipment was in the corner, the walls were full of posters of half-naked, lusty women. At the thought of what he was about to do to me in this setting, I became even more aroused.

He threw me on the bed and thrust himself on top of me as I spread my legs. His penis was so wet that it took no time at all to penetrate my hole. I groaned as he stood over me, his chest swaying before my eyes as he looked at me with raging lust. He took a few minutes, just long enough to allow his drops of sweat to fall on me. We both started making primal moans, me blushing from my approaching orgasm, him continuing to moo and pound, as if he was trying to impregnate me. We both came, almost at the same time. Something faded in his eyes and he collapsed beside me, his gaze lost in emptiness, his smile dumbfounded, his cock still pulsing cum. I looked at him. Not bad for a first time, I thought, as I was already waiting for round two.

[fuckmafuyu]

S(CREAM)

The legend says that the most weak and vulnerable may find themselves visited by the Halloween myth. It blesses those who encounter it the chance to hide behind a mask and conceal their insecurity, however be warned that no one knows what happens after you put it on, or who you might become.

The gym was completely quiet, the only sound being the metallic creaking of the punching bag as it swung back and forth until finally resting. Unlike Jess, it seemed like everyone was having the time of their lives on this Halloween Night. With one final punch, thrown with anger and frustration, Jess put the gloves away and wiped the sweat from his brow. His tank top was drenched, just the way he liked it, signifying that today’s work out was a good one. Unfortunately for him, it was the only good thing that had happened this week. Not only was it his least favorite time of the year, but finding out his girl was cheating on him with some CS nerd was truly the last straw. So there he was, at the gym on a perfectly good Halloween day, using the pain as the motivation for his pump.

Looking down at his shredded body, he couldn’t help but feel not only a sense of pride but of hatred.

“The fuck does he have that I don’t,” he muttered under his breath, imagining what possibly his ex saw in the computer geek. He let out a deep sigh and dropped his shoulders, letting out his tension. In his mind, all he could think about was what he was missing.

To Jess, working out was a way to regulate his emotions, and always had been. When it came to emotional intelligence, or any intelligence for that matter, well let’s just say he isn’t the brightest. Where others had friends to confide in or therapists to talk to, all Jess had was the gym. It was all that could make him feel good, constantly striving to look better so that he’d be better. Though a flawed ideology, it was his raison d’etre, caused by years of internalized fatphobia. In his youth, he was the fat kid that everyone knew but no one wanted to be seen with.

As he got older, it became more and more apparent that if he didn’t change then no one would want him, not as a friend or boyfriend. Jess eventually found his way into the gym, scrounging up the last bits of confidence he had left in himself to begin working out. At first, he was riddled with insecurity and anxiety, but as time eventually passed he lost weight and became more and more fit. Eventually he no longer felt like an outcast and made friends, joined sports, and even got a few girlfriends. However, everything comes with a price, and his transformation came at the expense of his education.

Becoming fitter and hotter were his only life goals, as the memories of fat and alone were a constant reminder on his mind. To Jess, working out and sports were far more important than learning and education. Skipping almost all of his classes to instead hit the gym and get on the field, he barely graduated High School but got a full ride to college through football. Any modicum of academic-wise intelligence he had was stuck at the middle school level, anything past that was foreign to his jocked-out brain.

And although his body was at its prime, those insecurities from his past still lingered and there were times when memories came back to haunt him. For instance, Halloween was his least favorite time of the year, as memories of being picked on or judged for eating candy or not being able to fit into kid’s sized costumes always ruined the holiday for him. Tonight, he had been planning to chill and watch a few movies with his girlfriend and fuck but seeing as that wasn’t happening anymore he desperately needed to get out.

As he wrapped up his workout and began heading out from the empty gym, his phone buzzed to see a text from his bro Andre.

“YOOOO just got some invites to this Halloween frat party, u down?”

“Fuck,” Jess thought out loud, realizing he hadn’t even gotten a costume since he wasn’t even planning on going out. “Idk dude I don’t got anything 2 wear” He texted Kyle back and was instantly replied to.

“Same broooo imma just try n find sumn in my closet n u should too. Cmon don’t u wanna score some pussy tn??”

Jess smirked, sounded like a plan to him, best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Sticking his tongue out like he was ready to eat some pussy, he snapped a picture and sent it with a caption.

“U alrdy know 👅👅 c u tn”

As he walked out of the campus gym, he couldn’t help but notice how dreary it looked out. Ominous signs filled the world around him, grey skies blocked out the light and October winds sending chills down his spine. Flocks of crows cawed as they flew from the tall trees surrounding his journey back to his place. Jess shrugged it off, it was a picture perfect Halloween and for once he was ready to enjoy it to the fullest. Running up the steps to the door of his off campus apartment, he unlocked it with excitement as he imagined the possibilities of tonight.

Ignoring a greatly-needed shower, he went straight to his closet. First things first, he needed to check if there was even a costume he could scrounge up and pass off as decent. Being a straight man, his closet was a mess of forgotten junk and unknown treasures, most likely hiding a couple things he could throw on. He rummaged through it, throwing aside anything that probably wouldn’t fit him anymore and random stuff that he probably should throw away. He searched aimlessly until finally, he reached his hand deep into a back corner of his closet, which was practically just a pile of clothes now, and touched something hard. He felt it, cold to the touch, and his curiosity took ahold of him as he slowly he pulled it out from under the heap.

Before him in his hands was a white mask with a black sort of headdress, marked with wear and tear and an air of mystery. Questions rushed through his brain; What is this? Who’s is this? Why is it in my closet? Did I buy this? Jess stared intently at the mask, it seemed familiar to him somehow, almost as if there was some sort of connection between the two. His finger traced the design of the mask, the way the face seemed almost contorted in pain sent chills down his spine. “Oh shit!” it hit him suddenly, he had seen this mask before in some horror movie his ex liked to watch, but did she get this for him and if so when and why?

He brushed aside his worried thoughts, at least she did one thing good for him. A costume is a costume, and so he began getting ready for the party. Analyzing the mask, he began to think about ways he could wear it but not look too dweeby or stupid. He wanted something simple and sexy, and so he pulled off the sweat soaked tank top he had worn to the gym and brought it to his nose. Taking in a whiff, his eyes shot open as the musk invaded his nostrils, making a mental note to wash it and tossed it to the side.

Placing a chain around his neck, putting a gold watch on, and tossing on some fuck-boy grey sweatpants, his pussy hunter costume was almost complete. He chuckled, from experience once girls see a chain, an expensive watch, and a nice bulge through your grey sweats, they come running. He spritzed some cologne to mask some of his masculine scent that he abstained from washing off, knowing the pheromones would drive the girls crazy. Jess smirked to himself in the mirror, “I’m hot as fuck.” His afternoon pump perfectly accentuated his muscles and under this lighting, even he would fuck him, that is if he was a fag which would never happen. He ran his hands over his crystal cut abs and flexed his biceps, getting one good look at his body before he headed out.

“Fuckkkk, I’m so ready for this shit,” he beamed, ready to put the cherry on top. He grabbed the mask, which surprisingly felt heavier than before and put it on. At first vision was a bit hazy, but quickly, his sight adjusted to his limited vision through the eye holes. Looking at himself in the mirror, he smirked under his mask and said to himself, “Alright sexy, let’s go score some.”

Almost instantly, a foreign voice responded. It was a cold, steady voice and yet there was this air of confidence that caused Jess to stop in his tracks and shudder. “Now now, are we sure you’re ready Jess?”

Jess whipped around, searching for the source of the voice but there was nothing to be found. “What the fuck? Who the fuck is there?” he shouted angrily, albeit a bit muffled through the mask, to nothing but the air.

“There’s no one there, I’m up here,” the voice responded almost menacingly.

Jess shot his face up to his ceiling but again, nothing there.

“No you idiot not up there, up here, in your mind.”

Rolling his eyes under the mask, Jess couldn’t help but laugh at his stupidity for seriously believing an invisible force was speaking to him. “Ooooookay I get it now. Someone put a scary mask in my closet as some dumbass Halloween prank and like there’s a speaker inside for whoever’s talking on the other end right? Fuuuunnnnyyy. Lemme just take this shit- huh why can’t I take this shit off?” Jess flushed red with panic, beginning to erratically pull off the mask that almost seemed glued to his face. “HEY FUCKER stop whatever this shit is okay? Funny fuckin’ prank now lemme take it off!”

The sinister voice returned, “Now why would I do that? It’s too late anyway, I’ve already sealed myself to your face. Which, let’s be honest, I did you a favor covering up that ugly mug of yours for all eternity. This body is… delightful, but that face, well, let’s just say there are some things you just can’t fix in life.”

Waves of anxiety and fear washed over Jess as he began to feel truly panicked. What the fuck was happening to him? His mind raced with thoughts as his instinct to scream for help kicked in but alas, nothing came out. His eyes widened with horror and as if his soul began to slip away, he fought to maintain control of his body.

“Don’t you mean, my body? Don’t be too surprised, what good of an evil entity would I be if I couldn’t read your mind too? Your vessel is mine now Jess, and what a wonderful one it is. You’ve really put in the work to make yourself forget about the fat, ugly little shit you once were.

Jess doubled over, feeling the weakness spread like a plague through his most prized possession, his body. Through a winced voice, he pleaded, “How did you even know…. please just let me go I’ll do anything.”

In his mind, the voice spoke again, “I know everything Jess. Really you can’t expect me to take over your body without learning about you first, that’s just rude. That ex-girlfriend huh, cheaters make me sick… too bad you were such a shitty boyfriend, she had no other choice.”

As Jess stumbled out of the bathroom towards the front door for help, barely strong enough to keep himself up straight, he weakly coughed out, “Fuck you.”

“Now now now, that’s no way to talk to a new friend. I mean it’s true, you were so obsessed with your physique you ignored her for days at a time. Ghosting her for days and responding only when you got horny, putting getting drunk with your boys before being with her, even cancelling on dates so you could get a quick work out in? You’re a man child. And look at you now, all those muscles didn’t help did they?

Jess was crawling on the floor, just making it to the front door as he reached up and weakly began to twist the door knob. He barely had the strength to keep up his muscle packed body, the heaviness overpowering what little power he had left. As the last bit of adrenaline left his system, his dreams of escaping the nightmare disappeared as he lost the strength to move his body. He fell completely flat to the floor, and almost as if he was a puppet tied to strings, his mind watched in terror as his body raised itself to his knees, then fully stood up, making its way over to the living room mirror.

Next Jess watched as his arms moved on their own, grabbing his rock hard bulge through his sweats, causing some pre-cum to gush out and fill his boxers. “Let’s take a pic for the memories,” his own voice said out loud without his willing. Almost instantly, his body took out his phone, flexed, and snapped a quick photo before tossing it to the side.

Jess just observed in shock and fright, lost as to how he could even fight this. Then, both his arms raised up, exposing the musky jungles under his arms to the outside world. “Whew boy, maybe the first thing I’ll do with this body take a shower!” he sneered, not before long however, his body turned to his pits and buried the masked face into it, taking in deep breaths of the must, “or maybe not… I have to say your body is quite a marvel, I never believed such stink could smell sooooo good.”

The mask started to control Jess to feel up and down himself and rub his cockprint, causing the entity to moan out in pleasure, even making Jess who could only watch in horror, feel good. “Now this might be a little sick, but there’s a little thing I like to do after I take over a new vessel,” Jess’s voice explained as he checked himself out the mirror, “How about… I make your worst fears come true?”

Though he could feel tears streaming down his face beneath the mask, there was no sound of crying escaping Jess’ mouth, all he felt was sorrow and despair. “Are you ready? Here’s my favorite part!” His body puffed his chest out and flexed his biceps as a powerful dark energy suddenly surged through his veins. Jess felt only dread as his body began to expand and inflate with fat and muscle outwards, as his once fit and cut physique bulged into this bulky mammoth of a man. His once decent pecs bulged with fat as they became heavy jugs that weighed down his form substantially. Beneath the shadow of his now tits, the abs he had slaved his youth away for slipped away beneath a slight layer of fat blanketing his stomach. Jess screamed and pleaded from within his own mind for the being to stop, that his punishment was severe enough, but the torture was far from over.

“Yeahhh this is more like it! You’re fuckin huge bro,” maniacally laughed the entity controlling his body, “I don’t think you’ll ever be able to stand on a scale again! But really, don’t think you’ll be needing to worry about that.”

It was right, his body was a behemoth now, not fat, but far bigger than he ever was before. Jess was defeated and with the forfeit, his mind began to fade away into the aether.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast. I think there’s a better way for me to finally get rid of you…”

“I think this whole thing got me pretty fuckin horny, how about we give this body for a test drive?” Without hesitation, the entity pulled down his sweats and boxers, revealing his cock in full 9” mast.

Jess’ now meaty hands gripped the rock hard member and began to stroke it back and forth. Precum spouted out of his dick, dripping onto the floor and coating his cock in a thick lubricant. The entity moaned in hunger and pride, supremely pleased by how well his vessel turned out, squeezing Jess’ member and alienating the pressure with each stroke. The waves of pleasure even aroused Jess who even in the depths of his own mind could feel how amazing it was. His body panted, breathing heavy as sweat glistened from his skin. The monster teased the throbbing member, edging it closer and closer to ejaculation, torturing even Jess as he pleaded for sweet release. And that was exactly what the mask would deliver.

“Did you ever wonder why the mask takes the form of a screaming face? It’s the last thing my vessels do as they expel their hosts from their body!”

Jess’ mind was broken down and absorbed into his own cum filled balls and with one final stroke, the entity released his new flesh and bones’s load upon the mirror. With his sweet release, Jess let out a final scream, instantly causing the mask to mold itself to Jess’ final facial expression of pleasure and torture following the sick joke of each new victims’ final faces turning into the mask.

The new Jess smirked, seeing the last remnants of this vessel’s original owner splattered across the now cum-covered mirror. Another successful Halloween if he did say so himself.

A sudden buzz alerted “Jess” as his tossed aside phone vibrated with new messages from his best friend Andre, with around another 20 messages he had missed while having his fun. He took out the device from his pockets and read the latest one.

broooo wyaaaaa u promiz3d yud b hier i’m hella drunk so jyst find me wen ur hier

Jess recalled his agreement to a costume party from earlier in the day, “An extremely juvenile activity, but alas, who am I to break a promise?”

Making his way to the party, he felt the ground beneath his feet for the first time in a long time. Nothing beats the one time a year he gets to have a corporeal form. Walking into party, Jess could feel as drunken heads and lustful eyes turned his way. The music was blaring loud and college students dressed up in ridiculous costumes plagued the room with their youth. Colors and lights flashed before his eyes as he made his way over to what he had in his memories as the human companion named Andre. Placing his weighty hand on the sweaty and shirtless man’s shoulder, Andre whipped around in his drunken stupor to find a large man in a Ghostface mask looking down at him.

“Wow Jess, you should have told me your human friend was this cute,” he lustfully professed aloud.

“WHAT WUZ THAT?” Andre yelled over the god awful ‘Monster Mash’ remix playing at the frat. “Yoooooo wtf waitttt Jess is that you? Did you start bulking mannn?”

Jess shouted loudly to conversate over the terrible music, “Yeah bro, it’s me, in the flesh. Sorry I took so long, had to go out and grab this mask for a last minute costume.”

“OHHH no worriez mannn. Thas a smart idea I just found sum chains and a doggy collar so I wuz like why not say I’m a pet kink for Halloween HAHA!! Don’t judge me bro for real this wuz all I got!” ALRIGHT BRO you ready to score some pussy?” Andre explained drunkenly, pointing sheepishly to the chain and collar around his neck. As he looked up at his bestfriend, a feeling deep inside Andre was telling him something was really off about Jess, but he shrugged it off and blamed it on the alcohol.

Jess laughed, “Yeah sorry dude I don’t think I’m really into that anymore.” A puzzled look was drawn across his best friend’s face. He reached his hand down to Andre’s chain leash and tugged at it, pulling his bestfriend right in front of him as their eyes locked. Andre froze, almost as if time stood still while everyone around him and Jess partied on.

“Who’s a good boy?” Jess questioned in a stern and commanding voice as he stared down hypnotically into Andre’s eyes.

At first there was a slight pause from Andre, a hesitation, but soon from the doggy’s mouth came a sound, “Rrrrruff!”

Jess felt blood rush begin to rush back down into his thick manhood and looked down to see that Andre’s bulge beneath his costume’s leather shorts was begging to be played with. With a smirk beneath the mask, Jess held onto Andre’s chain as they made their way back to his apartment.

This was the best Halloween ever.