guybodyswaps

[guybodyswaps]

Season 3

PicFlash: The Unmaking of Vivian

Vivian was scrolling through her Instagram feed after a long day at the office, her eyes glazing over the endless stream of images. She paused at a picture of a young man flexing in the gym, his muscles glistening with sweat and his face contorted in an obnoxious grimace. Before she could wrinkle her nose and scroll past, her surroundings melted away, and she found herself standing in a crowded gym, the air thick with the scent of sweat and metal.

"What's happening?" Vivian asked, her voice filled with panic. She felt a sudden heat spread across her body, starting at her core. She looked down and watched as her conservative blouse and pencil skirt began to ripple and change.

Her breasts, once modest, began to shrink and flatten, her bra loosening as her chest hardened and a dusting of brown hair appeared. She gasped, her hands flying to her chest, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of hard muscle and coarse hair.

Her arms began to change, muscles writhing and growing like vines beneath her skin. She watched in horror as her hands grew larger, her fingers thickening and her nails shortening. The skin on her arms darkened slightly, veins popping and pulsing with each beat of her accelerating heart.

Vivian's waist narrowed, her hips realigning with a sickening crunch. She cried out in pain, her legs changing shape, muscles defining and lengthening. Her feet grew larger, her heels rising off the ground as her toes wiggled and stretched.

Her clothing shifted, her blouse and skirt melding into a pair of red gym shorts and a loose black tank top. She could feel the fabric brushing against her skin, the sensation alien and unsettling.

Vivian's hair began to retreat, the long brown locks shrinking and darkening to a short, messy crop. Her face changed shape, her jaw widening and her chin becoming more prominent. Her nose became broader, her eyebrows thicker.

She felt a strange sensation on her face, like a thousand tiny needles pricking her skin. She reached up, her fingers brushing against the rough stubble that now covered her cheeks and chin.

Vivian's eyes, once a sharp green, darkened to a muddy brown. As she watched her reflection change in the gym mirror, she felt a growing pressure in her mind, like a vice tightening around her skull. Her memories, her thoughts, her very sense of self began to fade, replaced by a creeping darkness.

Her posture shifted, her shoulders rolling back and her chest puffing out. She stood taller, her body language exuding arrogance and aggression. She was no longer Vivian, the overworked businesswoman. She was Julian, the 22-year-old aspiring bodybuilder with a chip on his shoulder and a sneer on his face.

Julian grunted, flexing his muscles and admiring his reflection. He was jacked, and he knew it. He was the king of the gym, the alpha male, and he wanted everyone to know it.

[guybodyswaps]

Bodybuilder Expo

"Another day, another dollar." You tell yourself as you pull into the construction site.

It's the same thing you tell yourself everyday before work. It usually reminds you why you need to do this, and motivates you enough to get through the day. Though it doesn't stop you longing for something more.

"At least the sun's coming out." You mumble as you pull off your toque and jacket.

You walk through the empty site searching for your foreman, but to no avail. All you find is a uniform sitting in the dirt, most likely left there from the day before. It's not uncommon for your foreman to be late, so you find a stack of skids to sit on and wait.

Your mind wanders for a brief moment of silence, before an unfamiliar voice breaks it.

"Hey man... Do you know where the beach is?"

His voice sounded slow but somewhat charming. You turn towards the voice and see the most ripped man you've ever seen. His arms and legs are thicker than your head and covered in veins. Every muscle in his body is bulging under his artificially tanned skin and glistening in the sun as he's wearing nothing but a speedo and sandals. You watch in awe as he walks towards you, the world seems to slow down. He places his hand on the skid and leans toward you, letting you see every detail of his perfectly toned body. You stare at his muscles, admiring the god in front of you.

"You okay man?" He asks, snapping you out of your trance.

"Ugh, yeah it's just around this building." You say, pointing behind you.

"Thanks buddy." He flashes a charming smile and slaps you on the shoulder.

Without shame, you stare at him as he walks away. But in a moment of clarity, you notice a pair of sunglasses sitting beside you. They must be his.

"You forgot your sunglasses!" You shout while waving the glasses in the air.

The man turns his head, barely letting you see the smirk on his face as he says, "Keep 'em." Before walking out of sight.

You feel bad for a moment, but that quickly goes away when you realize you just got a free pair of sunglasses. You quickly slip them on, happy to have some reprieve from the sun.

A wave of confidence flows through you as you imagine how hot you look with the glasses on. Your shoulders relax and you lean back, the sudden confidence making life seem a lot less stressful.

*CRACK!*

A loud noise echoes through your head, making you jump up. It was your jaw. You run your hand along your jaw, feeling the sharp edges of your much wider and squared out jaw. You even feel prickly hairs grow in, making your patchy facial hair into a well trimmed beard.

*Shwoomp*

You hear another noise as you explore your jaw. Your hands move upwards, feeling the weathered skin over your much more defined cheekbones. Your fingers run through wrinkles that were not there this morning as you feel your brow bone growing more prominent. You even notice that your nose has grown significantly.

What is happening?

Your mind struggles to process what has just happened, almost like a dense fog has flooded your brain. You slowly take off the sunglasses and turn them around, looking at the stranger in the reflection.

It takes you a moment to realize it's you. Somewhere under the wrinkled skin and sharp bone structure is still you. You tilt your head back and forth just to confirm.

Deep down, you know you should be scared but you can't be bothered enough to care. If anything, that sudden confidence is growing stronger the longer you look at yourself in the mirror. You're so distracted that you fail to notice the rest of your body changing.

The sunglasses begin to look smaller and smaller as your hands start to grow. Each finger thickens as your hands double in size. Then your forearms grow larger than your biceps, with defined muscles and veins covering the surface. Your biceps explode with muscle, easily ripping through your tiny sleeves as they grow as big as your head. Similar to your forearms, veins surface all along the mounds of muscle on your biceps.

Finally, you notice the changes in your arms. You put the sunglasses back and flex your biceps, letting out a chuckle as you admire yourself. As you do so, your shoulders broaden as your traps rise like a loaf of bread, making your arms look even larger.

The transformation spreads through the rest of your body like an infection, first to your chest. Your flabby pecs twitch as the muscles start to inflate. All the fat melts away, leaving two giant slabs of meat that create a shelf over your stomach. Speaking of your stomach, your small belly begins to grow. It surges outward into a thick muscle gut that tears right through your shirt before the fat melts away, leaving behind a perfect set of washboard abs.

You stumble forward, not used to your changing center of gravity. You grab on to some scaffolding, a fleeting reminder of your old life, a life that's currently fading away under hundreds of pounds of muscle. But the transformation is far from over.

Your jeans start to tighten around your expanding ass. First your belt snaps, then the button pops off. You lean forward, trying to relieve the growing pressure.

*RIIPPP*

Your jeans tear in half straight down your crack, letting them fall to the floor. You let out a moan as the pressure is released, noticing how deep your voice has become. But that only makes you more horny about your testosterone fueled body. Your hand drifts down your rock hard abs and towards your crotch. Pulling back your skin tight underwear, you warp your massive man hands around your dick. It feels small in comparison to your hands, but that doesn't last. With each stroke, your cock grows longer and thicker. 7 inches, 8, 9, 10 inches and as thick as a pop can. Your knees tremble as ropes and ropes of cum shoot onto the wall in front of you. Your legs nearly give out after the near thirty second orgasm, but they've grown much stronger in the meantime. Even your feet have grown at least 10 sizes, leaving your boots in pieces.

As the transformation comes to an end, you start to compose yourself. You stand up straight, reaching a hulking 6"5, and puff your chest out, letting your fake tanned skin glisten in the sun.

As you're basking in the sun, a vehicle comes around the corner. A familiar looking man with a thick gut hops out of the truck and walks toward you. All you think about is how pathetic it is for a man to let himself go like that. But as he approaches, you take off your sunglasses and put on a fake smile.

"Sir, you're on a private construction site. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." He says in an angry tone.

"Sorry, I just got turned around. Do you know where the beach is?" You ask.

"Ya, it's just around the building." He scoffs.

"Thanks buddy." You flash a charming smile and slap the side of his gut, leaving the sunglasses on his belt.

You turn and walk towards the beach, giving a perfect view of your ass to the construction worker.

"Hey! You forgot your sunglasses!" The man yells as he realizes you left them behind.

You turn your head with a smirk and say, "Keep 'em." Before walking around the building.

It's not a long walk until you get to the beach. There's loud music and sweaty guys all over the place, just your kind of scene. You absent mindedly walk behind some sort of stage where a man whistles you over.

"You're late! Where were you?" Your agent yells as you approach him.

"Just got a bit lost." You say trying not to laugh.

"I don't want to hear excuses, you're on in one." He panics.

He grabs a razor and trims your beard, then slathers gel in your hair.

"What is this underwear!?" He says looking at your skin tight boxers. "Nevermind it doesn't matter, go!" He pushes you towards a set of curtains. Opening them reveals a whole crowd of men just like you on the beach. Your face lights up when you realize they're cheering for you. And as if it was instinct for you, you start to put on a show.

[guybodyswaps]

I found a rubber singlet in my mail. Do you have any idea who sent it? It looks way too big to even fit me.... I am kinda tempted to put it on though....

You found a package in the mail. No return address. Just a small box, plain and unassuming. Inside: a sleek, black rubber singlet. Thin, shiny, and definitely too big for your skinny frame.

But... it does look kind of hot. Weirdly inviting.

Curiosity wins. You step into it, the rubber clinging coolly to your legs. As you pull it up your torso, a strange warmth spreads through your skin. Huh. It’s not as loose as it looked. Actually... it fits better than expected.

Tighter. Filled out. Your fingers pause at the straps, suddenly feeling your chest pushing against the rubber.

You blink. How long have you been standing here? You glance down and almost moan - your pecs are solid now, bulging under the singlet, your abs tight and carved. Your arms have veins. And your face in the mirror… fuck. You're a college jock now. A thick-necked, cocky-looking wrestler type. Your cock twitches in the rubber, the singlet pressing tight against your growing bulge. You flex, just to feel it more. God, you look hot.

But something shifts. You weren’t paying attention. Time's… fuzzy. Your skin itches. Heat blooms across your chest, arms, even your face. You blink, confused, then gasp - coarse hairs sprout from your pecs, crawl up your belly, bloom across your cheeks and jaw.

You claw at the singlet. You try to pull it off, but it clings tighter - like a second skin, glued down over every muscle. What the fuck?

Your voice is deeper now. You sound like a man. A grown man.

Your fingers dig under the straps- it’s fused, like vacuum-sealed. Your biceps strain as you try again. No use. The rubber isn’t just on you. It’s part of you.

You pant. You’re huge now. Thicker. Older. A full-grown, sweaty man with a heavy beard and a dense forest of chest hair poking out above the singlet’s neckline.

Minutes pass. Maybe hours? You lose track. You’re panting, covered in sweat - and hair. Chest, shoulders, forearms, legs - all thick with it. And you’re huge now. Your reflection shows a bearded, bald brute of a man. Probably in your 40s. Muscles like a strongman, veiny and pumped, stretching the rubber thin.

You stare in disbelief. Who is that staring back at you?

Finally… it stops. You breathe heavily, chest rising like a goddamn gorilla’s. The singlet makes soft creaking sounds as you move, your mountainous thighs threatening to tear the seams. It’s not glued anymore. But still skintight.

You tug at it again, groaning at the sheer size of your body. You flex in the mirror, cocky grin forming under your thick beard.

Looks like you’re keeping it.

Besides… it’s the only thing from your wardrabe that fits.

[guybodyswaps]

A Gift That Keeps Giving

(Original story posted April 29th 2023) This story has been mildly Updated!

Oh this part never gets old. Watching a man grunt and groan while his body starts to change. In this case getting to watch as his muscles bulge and balloon while the fat just melts away. Seeing his arms grow into powerful cannons while his pecs go from being non-existent to thick slabs of meat. All while he moaned “Yes! Yes! It’s actually happening!” As was the reaction of most clients.

He continued to bounce on my dick with glee. Inside him, my shaft continued to glow bright with the power I’d been blessed with just as it always did. His body just wouldn’t stop growing, pinning me down under more and more muscle mass by the second. Legs bulking up, ass swelling, hands and feet increasing a few sizes. Pretty much everything about him swelling larger, as was his desire. Growing heavier with pure size and muscle upon every bounce while effortlessly taking every inch of my cock.

When his body finally stopped growing, I watched the transformation shift in a hairier direction. He’d only had a few hairs here and there previously but now his body was sprouting pelt of manly fur all over! Hairy arms! Hairy legs! But most noticeably he soon sported a thick coating of chest hair. Exactly the kind of hairy chest he’d wished for. At which point I couldn’t help reaching up and rubbing my own hands through it. Admiring both the hair and my client’s new muscle tits at the same time. He didn’t seem to mind however as he tossed his head back in glee, groaning about how he could feel his beard growing in at last. Something I also had a front row seat for.

The last of his changes settled in as I watched his dick grow slightly longer and fatter with every bounce while his balls inflated slightly. Now all there was left to do was lock it in. I was about to begin thrusting upwards but before I had a chance he began to double down on riding me. Slamming his ass down onto my dick with twice the enthusiasm along with his new strength. Even going as far as to hold my arms down while begging me to cum with that gravely new voice of his. Well luckily for him I don’t think I could’ve lasted much longer anyway with how much my dick was pulsing inside of him.

Before either of us knew it, I was filling his hole with my load. And not a split second later he let out one final groan of ecstasy before his own enlarged cock shot ropes of his thick creamy cum all over my chest and stomach while a dumb grin formed across that hot bearded face of his. Unloading perfectly in sync with me just like they always did.

A couple minutes passed with the two of us panting in a sweaty mess before he finally pushed his heavy new body off me, my dick finally dislodging from his hole. The very first thing he did was run to the large mirror across my bedroom in excitement, his face lighting up the moment he set eyes on his new reflection. I couldn’t help but smile seeing another satisfied customer eagerly running his hands across every inch of his body. Touching and groping it all like he was exploring it for the first time. That was the main reason I kept a full body mirror in this room honestly.

“How much do I owe you again? £500?” He asked once he was finally able to pull himself away from the mirror. I confirmed his assumption. My charge was £1000 per transformation. Half the money up front, the other half after the session. The man picked up his jacket and dug through the pockets until he pulled out a wad of 20’s and handed it to me. I counted through it all to confirm everything was there before giving him the thumbs up to get dressed and go on his merry way.

I couldn’t help but chuckle a little as he struggled to pull on his clothes. He’d even brought some brand new, bigger clothes with him in preparation but even they were a tad too small. The larger pair of joggers he bought barely fit and let me just say they left nothing to the imagination. Hugging his ass and thighs like they could rip apart at any second. God I’m good at this. I should start charging more.

It almost seemed as though he’d heard my thoughts as he turned to me and handed over an extra £100 as a tip for giving him exactly what he wanted down to the tiniest details. “This body is everything I ever dreamed! Huge, strong and so much hair. Even the scent is perfect!” He admitted while lifting up one of his arms to reveal a hairy pit, clearly enjoying the faint masculine aroma it was giving off, while thanking me again.

We talked some more for a while. Discussing my powers a little and what he was going to do now with this new and improved look. He even asked if I wanted to hang out in a bit more of a romantic setting sometime. He seemed like a nice enough guy and his dream body just so happened to be exactly my type… so I agreed. He was quick to give me a big bear hug after that. Wrapping those new hairy muscles of his around me for a long moment before letting me go. He jumped up from the bed seconds after and began on an extremely tight t-shirt. The adorable hunk gave me one last kiss on the cheek after confirming I still had his number before walking out of my apartment with a grin on his face. Well. More like waddling with how tight those clothes were.

My dick truly was a gift. Anyone I fucked would transform into the most ideal version of themselves they desired most. I figured that out pretty soon after my first time having penetrative sex with a guy in college. Ended up turning him into a hulking jock. So it’s pretty simple when you think about it. If I fucked a dude who wished he could be a lean and hairless super model, he’d become just that. If I fucked a dude who wished he was big muscle bear, he’d pack on all the fat and muscle he needed to be such. So on so forth.

Of course I quickly realised I could make a business out of it so I started charging money as word spread about me. Of course I’d considered charging more than 1K many times before now. After all this was a life changing service that only I could offer. Realistically I could probably charge a hundred times the amount. But to be honest I also just liked doing it for the sake of helping people achieve their dreams. And help people I have. Tons of them! Hell I’ve even had a few straight guys take my dick up their ass just for a chance to have their perfect bodies. Can’t say I didn’t enjoy hearing them squirm and grunt. At least they're secure enough in their sexuality for it though. Credit where credit’s due.

I reached a hand down and cradled my cock slightly. I still have no idea what granted me this kind of power but whatever the case I plan on using it to change the lives of so many more men out there for the better. In the meantime however, I can’t wait to start setting up date plans with hopefully my soon to be boyfriend.

[guybodyswaps]

Welcome To The Neighborhood

When Ryan and his boyfriend Mark found Meadow Glen Apartments, it seemed like the perfect fit for them. The complex had a charm reminiscent of suburban neighborhoods, complete with tennis courts, pools, and even white picket fences lining the pathways. It was a picturesque place that promised peace and a sense of community – a far cry from their current situation of a hectic, run-down student housing complex.

As a result, the duo wasted no time applying for the apartment. To their relief, they passed the credit and background check and received word less than a week later that they had been approved. Within two weeks, the duo had started the process of moving into their new apartment.

So as Ryan and Mark finished unloading the last of their boxes, Ryan headed over to the living room window and took a moment to appreciate the view. The sprawling tennis courts were right next to their building, the sun casting a warm glow over the neatly trimmed grass as the soft whacking noises of tennis balls echoed into their apartment.

“Gosh, this place is fucking awesome, right?” Ryan said, turning to his boyfriend, who was busy unpacking dishes into the kitchen cabinets.

“Definitely. I can’t believe we even got approved to live in a place,” Mark replied.

Ryan nodded and chuckled before going to help his boyfriend unpack more of their belongings. 

After a few hours of doing such hard work, the man decided that he needed to take a little break. So while Mark went into their bedroom to sit down and watch some TV, Ryan decided to take a walk around the area. As he strolled along a paved pathway, he noticed a man in his early thirties approaching, wearing a skintight compression shirt that left little of the man’s physique to the imagination. Although he was planning on just offering a quick nod and smile, it seemed like the man wanted more as he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Hey there! You must be new here,” the man said, offering a friendly smile.

“Yeah, uh, my boyfriend and I just moved in today. I’m Ryan,” he replied, responding to the greeting with his own kind grin.

“Nice to meet you, Ryan. I’m Steve. Say, have you been able to check out the gym or tennis courts yet?” Steve asked, gesturing towards each area respectively.

“Not yet for the gym. That's why I was walking around actually! We live right next to the courts though, we’ve got a great view from the living room. It looks really nice,” Ryan said.

“Do you play tennis?” Steve asked, his eyes lighting up with interest.

“Uh, I used to back in high school. I haven’t really played since though,” Ryan admitted.

“Well, you’re in luck then! I’m an avid tennis player, so I’d be happy to help you get back into it if you’d like. What about tomorrow morning possibly? I always think it’s a great way for me to start the day,” Steve suggested enthusiastically.

Due to his hatred for early mornings, Ryan hesitated for a moment, but Steve’s friendly demeanor and the promise of getting back into the swing of something he once enjoyed intrigued him. “Sure, why not? Tomorrow morning it is.”

“Great! I’ll see you at 7 AM sharp,” Steve said, patting Ryan on the back before continuing on his way. In response, Ryan’s jaw dropped as he tried to reckon with such an early wake-up time. 

🎾 🎾 🎾

The next morning, Ryan woke up early with a huff. Despite his feet dragging as he went through getting dressed in some old workout gear he had, he refused to ghost the other man who was surely already waiting for him. As a result, he laced up his sneakers and,  after finishing his cup of coffee, headed to the tennis courts. Unsurprisingly to Ryan, Steve was already there, dressed in tennis whites and stretching with a smile plastered on his face.

“Good morning, Ryan! Ready to get back into the swing of things?” Steve called out, his voice incredibly chipper as he reveled in his own punny response. .

“Morning, Steve. Yeah, let’s do this,” Ryan replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness along with the still-prominent sensation of drowsiness.

Upon being handed a racket from the other man, Ryan allowed Steve to run him through a quick set of drills to help him get reacquainted with how to stand and hold his racket. After going through a practice round of serving, the duo took a quick drink break before Steve suggested that they start doing some volleys back and forth.

Upon agreeing, Ryan made his way over to his side of the court and allowed Steve to begin the next task. But as each volley back and forth occurred, the man found himself feeling a strange tingling sensation. Unbeknownst to him as he focused on traversing his side of the court to hit the back back to Steve, the man had no way of knowing that his body was slowly changing. 

At first, it was subtle with things changing to help him become a better player such as his posture straightening or his movements becoming much more fluid. But soon, the changes became more noticeable. His muscles started to grow, his arms and legs gaining definition and strength. By the time they finished their first hour, Ryan found himself needing to start loosening his grip as his hits to Steve were falling far outside of the boundaries lines of the court.

Yet despite needing to constantly run to grab the overshot balls, Steve maintained a calm and chipper demeanor. “Wow, you’re becoming quite the natural, Ryan! I know you said before that you used to play, but you’re getting better and better with each set. We’ve just got to get you working on your volley strength and you’ll be better than most of the guys here,” he said, genuinely impressed with his newest personal pet project. 

In response, Ryan smiled as his cheeks slightly began to redden. He then looked down to avoid the other man from seeing his bashful response to the compliments – which caused him to notice his physique. Prior to heading to the courts, the man had a relatively twinky appearance where he was toned yet didn’t have much muscle mass. But as he looked down and saw how his arms were noticeably plumper and his chest was no longer flat, he found himself stammering. “I– What’s happening here? I look different and feel… stronger,” he said, his voice straining in confusion as he lifted his arms up and watched his biceps begin to bulge.

Steve responded like there was nothing amiss though. “Looks like someone’s getting quite cocky, huh?” he replied, chuckling as he reached up and patted Ryan on the shoulder. “You’ve always had a toned body - so you look the same to me. Anyways, I gotta go get ready for work. Same time tomorrow?”

Ryan nodded, still in a daze from his apparent transformation. “Yeah, sure. Uh, thanks, Steve.”

As Ryan walked back to his apartment, he felt a surge of energy and confidence. Upon getting inside his apartment though, his boyfriend awoke in shock to Ryan’s bigger physique.

“Babe, what the hell happened to you? You look like a jock now!” Mark exclaimed.

“Ok, so I’m not going crazy! I have no idea what was going on,” Ryan said, shrugging his shoulders which unintentionally showcased his thicker shoulder and neck muscles. “We were just playing tennis and by the time we finished, I was bigger!”

Although both men were unsurprisingly confused by what was going on, the sight of his boyfriend’s increased physique led to an unintentional side effect for Mark – he was growing increasingly horny. Before long, the questions about how and why this was happening were replaced with intense desire to feel those muscles and have his boyfriend use them on him. As such, the remainder of the day devolved into a kinky and excited adventure for both men as they wondered how else he would change the next morning.

As his alarm went off the next day, Ryan’s usual sensation of disgust at an early morning wake-up call was replaced with one of invigorated excitement. He made his way into his closet, where the man was stunned to find that similarly to his body the previous day, his clothing options had shifted too. In addition to growing several sizes larger to fit his more muscular physique, his former attire of graphic t-shirts had been primarily replaced with a sea of colorful compression workout shirts. This theme was continued to his pants and underwear – which was now primarily composed of compression briefs, dri-fit shorts, and expensive joggers.

Despite Steve greeting him, Ryan skipped the pleasantries and went straight into interrogation mode. "Steve, what the hell is happening to me?" he asked, looking down at his more muscular form. "Why am I transforming like this?"

For a moment, it seemed as though Steve was playing coy about what was going on as he adopted a more confused expression on his face. But as Ryan refused to budge, the man’s resolve quickly faded as he decided to finally divulge some answers.

“There’s a reason behind why you’re changing – Meadow Glen isn’t just any apartment complex, “ Steve began. “I don’t know how else to describe it besides it has some sort of magical energy. Whatever it is though, it helps people realize their true potential. I know it sounds creepy, but when I first saw you the other day, you reminded me so much of my former self when I first arrived here. I couldn’t help but imagine how much you’d change, so that’s why I invited you here. I wanted to help you discover that inner potential of yours and bring it out.”

Ryan stared at Steve, his eyes bulging while trying to process the revelation. “So, this place… you’re telling me it’s magical?”

“In a way, I guess,” Steve said with a shrug. “From what I’ve seen since moving here, it seems the magic only works if you’re open to it – if you’re wanting to change and become something better. Given the fact that you’ve embraced it fully, it seems you’ve been blessed incredibly well.”

Although he got the answers he was initially seeking, the revelations only made him grow more frustrated by his neighbor’s deviousness. “But why would you do this? You just went around and tricked me into transforming into something I’m not. Do you realize how fucked up that is?!”

Steve looked up, a small smile playing on his lips as he rolled his eyes. "Ryan, are you seriously trying to tell me these changes are a problem for you?" he asked, his tone calm and measured. "Look at yourself. You're becoming an actual man. Someone who is muscular and handsome rather than weak and frail. How isn’t that a huge improvement to you?"

Ryan frowned, running a hand through his hair as he looked down at his muscular torso that filled out his shirt. "But it's so sudden…"

Steve leaned against the net, crossing his arms. "Who cares about how fast it feels when you’re turning out so well. I’m sure that boyfriend of yours was a big fan of the changes so far, right? Well, just one more session with me and I think you’ll be finished changing."

Ryan's confusion began to give way to contemplation. "You can’t just be doing this all out of the goodness of your heart. So, what's in it for you?"

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "Isn't it obvious? I’ll finally get a formidable tennis opponent. You're becoming a real challenge on the court, which is just what I need to keep pushing me to improve my game."

Ryan looked at Steve, processing his words. "So, we're both getting something out of this?"

"Exactly," Steve replied with a wide smile. "You've been given a gift, Ryan. Embrace it. Use it to your advantage. It's not every day you get a chance to become the person you've always wanted to be."

Ryan nodded slowly, a sense of acceptance washing over him. He flexed his now powerful arms, feeling the strength coursing through them. "I guess you're right. This is definitely better than how I used to be."

Steve clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "That's the spirit. Now, how about we get back out there and see just how far you can push yourself?"

In response, Ryan smiled as he envisioned the ways in which he could continue changing. With a newfound excitement forming in his mind, the man cheerfully responded to his tennis partner. "Let's do it."

After taking a few minutes to stretch and prepare for the match between Steve, Ryan shook his limbs out one final time before jogging over to the correct spot to receive the other man’s serve. As he bounced on his toes and watched his partner begin a powerful serve, the man was giddy with excitement.

Steve, focusing on the game, didn't initially notice the transformation at first. It was only when Ryan returned another fierce volley that outsmarted the other man and won the first set where he glanced up and caught sight of Ryan's evolving face. Before his very eyes, the other man’s features were shifting – becoming more chiseled and defined by the second. His cheekbones soon stood out more prominently, which worked well as his jawline also sharpened in tandem into a strong, masculine contour.

As Ryan prepared to serve and start the second set, he had no way of noticing his brown hair darkening until it took on a rich, jet-black hue. By this point, sweat was beginning to run down his face to the point of annoyance – but this was soon remedied as a shadow of stubble quickly grew into a trimmed beard that framed his now strikingly handsome face. His eyes, previously cursed with dark circles, seemed to gleam with a new intensity as those circles were instead replaced with a light set of wrinkles. Although neither man had a way of knowing, this was the beginning of Ryan’s age progression into that of a man in his early 30s.

With each powerful stroke of the racket, Ryan felt an invigorating surge of strength that felt oddly at odds with the fact that he was growing older by the second. Regardless, he moved with a newfound grace and power, dominating the game with ease as his physique inflated a bit more with muscle to make his clothing even tighter. Steve, bewildered by the front row seat to the transformation, struggled to keep up, his eyes widening as he watched Ryan become almost unrecognizable.

Ryan's final serve was a blur, the ball slamming into the court with such force that it gave Steve no chance to return it. Panting, Ryan straightened up, his muscular physique now even more pronounced under the sunlight. He moved closer to the net as he reached into his bag and pulled out a rag to wipe the sweat off of his face. But as he moved his hand and the piece of fabric up to his visage, it didn’t take long before the man realized that it had changed over the course of the match. His hands scraped against the thick stubble that now covered his cheeks – providing a strong sense of excitement in the man who had never been able to grow anything besides a wispy mustache.

As the man reached into his bag and opened up his phone, Steve approached to watch Ryan gleefully open up the camera app and get a look at his new visage. Upon doing so, the other man watched as Ryan gasped in shock before beginning to poke and prod at his older and more attractive visage. 

“Looking good, Ryan. It seems like you’ve finished changing. Do you like it?,” Steve asked, knowing the answer yet still opting to ask to allow the other man to verbalize his acceptance of his new body. 

“Oh my god, hell yes. This is wild! I look so much more handsome… and older!”

In response, Steve chuckled as he moved forward to embrace his tennis partner. “Yeah, it’s definitely a lot to get used to at first! By the time you wake up tomorrow, everything will be fixed to fit your new, older body. I don’t know for sure what your job and everything will be necessarily, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up working here as a tennis instructor and trainer at the gym. A lot of the other guys who ended up as big as you ended up with a job like that.”

A strange yet welcomed sense of excitement and acceptance coursed through Ryan’s body as he fully realized that this new body and life would be forever his. The concept of an apartment complex changing him still felt like some weird fantasy tale, but based on his experience, he knew it was completely legitimate. As a result, he turned to Steve and wrapped him in a tight hug.

“This is all still so crazy, but thank you for everything Steve,” he said, his voice wavering with emotion. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you…”

Ever the wise-cracking fellow, Steve wasted no time trying to elicit a chuckle from the transformed man. “Oh, it doesn’t take much. Just keep showing up here so we can play together. One of these days, maybe not in the near future, I will absolutely demolish you!” 

From there, both men decided to call their session for the day. Steve said that he had to get ready for work while Ryan was eager to reveal the new and improved version of himself to his boyfriend. As a result, the duo said their goodbyes before finally going in their own separate directions.

So as he left the tennis courts of Meadow Glen and made his way into his apartment, Ryan realized that the move had changed his life in more ways than one. Not only had it given him a new apartment but also a new lease on life! He had rediscovered a passion, made a brand new friendship, and transformed into the best version of himself. And it all started with a simple offer from a friendly neighbor…

Eager to read more stories like this? Head over to my Patreon to discover tons of hot transformation fiction including stories like this one!

[guybodyswaps]

The GIF

With @transform4u

“Dude, c’mon be for real right now,” Dylan laughed disbelievingly.

“I am!” Carson exclaimed. “Seriously, I found this on the side of Reddit you’re not supposed to mess with.”

Dylan shook his head, which unfortunately as the shorter of the two made him appear childish. “Nuh uh, no way am I falling for this.”

“But it’s real!” Carson tried again, doing his best to compose himself. Neither were in the best of shape, which is why they had started going to the gym in the first place, but the treadmill was truly working against Carson today. Even if it was only at a small incline and slow speed. “You just have to believe me, this GIF has the power to change people.”

“Really, how so?” Dylan questioned. Sweat was dripping down his thin frame and staining his shirt, which made the paunchier Carson feel a bit better about his own situation.

“I don’t know, dude. I can’t look at it.” Carson’s reply made Dylan roll his eyes. “I just have the link. Apparently if you look at the GIF, it changes you.”

“I think you’re reading too much creepypasta,” Dylan concluded. “How do you have the GIF without having seen it?”

Carson shrugged, panting a bit. “The link was available on some thread that I saved. A few users posted it with a bunch of random controversial tags.”

The development caught Dylan’s ear. “Dude, do not fall for that crap. You know they are just trying to farm engagement.”

Carson frowned, determined to prove himself. Dylan had already moved on from the conversation, his “Divas Forever!" playlist already pulsing out of his earbuds to Carson's digust. As two gay best friends, it was hard not to fall into the trope of falling in love with each other. But every time Carson even felt an inkling of attraction, Dylan once again certified himself as the type of feminine twink that turned Carson off.

With some nimble typing, Carson copied the link and entered his AirDrop functioning, realizing he could share the GIF without actually viewing it himself. Smiling, he found a few names pop up within range.

“Dylan!” Carson carefully tapped Dylan’s earbuds so that he could listen. “I’ll prove it right now.”

Knowing Carson would continue to annoy him, Dylan surrendered as he assumed nothing bad could come of their actions. “Who will you chose?”

Carson scanned the nearby gym-goers, spotting a man roughly ten years older than the pair on his phone, idly standing over a machine. “That one.”

Dylan half-nodded as Carson sent the link. The confirmation message popped up, and to their surprise, was followed by an acceptance. The four eyes then traced back to their subject, who was watching the GIF with a furrow in his brow. After a few moments however, the furrow shifted into a smile. Or more, a cocky smirk.

But the pair was immediately caught off guard by the almost instantaneous change that happened before their very eyes. The man began to grow, or rather, expand. His frame rose multiple inches as every part of his body bloated outwards. It was like somebody was pumping air into a balloon, but instead of flimsy latex they were working with pure muscle. Dylan and Logan could only watch on, stunned as the man’s formerly loose blue shorts and gray tee tightened around his hyper-masculinized body.

“...Carson…” Dylan softly uttered, not daring to move. “You didn’t actually do that…did you?”

Carson gulped, the man before them suddenly sprouting a thick, perfect beard. “I don’t know.”

The two cautiously examined the room, expected to be met with similarly shocked faces. But instead, everything appeared business as usual. It was like no one else had noticed the evolution–even their subject appeared unphased as he adjusted his pouch before positioning himself onto the machine.

“Do you think we should go check on him?” Dylan asked, turning off his treadmill.

Carson followed suit, “What are we going to say?”

They stepped off their respective treadmills, both trying but failing to act natural. “I don’t know dude but like, you may have just changed his life. He may want to know what happened.”

Carson held his breath as they grew closer, but the two stopped before they could actually get to the machine. Their fear was holding them in place, the consequences of their actions halting them. Eventually, their subject noticed the staring, turning his handsome face towards them in confusion.

“Hey, mind keeping those pussy eyes to yourself?” The newly-transformed man remarked, obviously annoyed.

Dylan and Carson’s faces immediately flushed red, exiting the scene. Both of them only had one thing on their mind.

“What the heck is in that GIF?” Dylan’s voice held an irritating whine, the worry having obviously crept in.

“I don’t know!” Carson pulled up the link, desperate to find some hidden code within the mismatched letters. He was about to delete it entirely from his phone, but Dylan stopped him.

“Wait,” the twink brushed Carson’s hands.

“What do you mean, ‘wait’?”

“Let’s do it again.” 

Carson inspected Dylan’s face, expecting this to be a joke. “What?”

“If you AirDrop it to someone right in front of us, we can see what the heck just happened. Get an actual look into what the heck is happening.”

Carson shook his head. “No dude, we can’t mess with this anymore. I got-”

Before he could finish, Dylan took the phone and rushed away. Carson quickly followed, but by the time he caught up with his best friend, it was too late. He had already sparked up a conversation.

“Would you mind helping me make sure I’m doing this AirDrop invite thing right?" Dylan lied. “It’s for a surprise birthday party.”

“And you need me, why?” The other man, who was about double the weight of Carson, appeared confused.

“I just want everything to be perfect” Dylan played it off. “You know how it is, double-checking and triple-checking…”

The man did not seem convinced, but accepted to help anyway. Carson tried to stop Dylan, but as he reached for the phone the ping of a successful AirDrop rang out. They both watched, one in curiosity and one in fear, as the man in front of them opened the GIF. 

“So, what do you think?” Dylan carefully asked.

The man opened his mouth to reply, but all that game out was a soft grown. Dylan and Carson became bystanders as the man before them underwent an incredible transformation. His fat began to harden, chiseling itself into the type of musculature only found on centuries-old statues. His body expanded to a size dreamed of by jocks and amateur body builders. And because the pair were close enough, they were embraced by the man’s new encompassing musk. Dylan and Carson stood in awe of the masculinity before them, another alpha brought to life in their own midst.

“...ah yeah,” the man groaned to himself, his voice now deeper and huskier as he was lost in his own haze. “Who’s Daddy’s little plaything? You dirty slut, nothing more than my baby machine.”

“Uh, sorry sir,” Carson started, hoping to get the conversation started. Dylan had been rendered useless, his eyes latched on to the man’s huge meat half erect inside the tiny shorts. “...sir?”

Either the man could not hear them over his heterosexual fantasies, or he was ignoring the pair. Eventually, Carson gave up, dragging Dylan behind him.

“Look at what you did!” Carson spat once they were out of earshot. “Was that really necessary?”

Dylan did not respond. Carson could tell his best friend had something cooking within his head.

“Dylan…” Carson started. “What’s going on?”

Dylan remained silent. With Carson’s phone still in hand, he clicked on the link and activated it himself, opening the GIF.

“Dylan no!” Carson tried to stop his best friend but Dylan swiftly stepped out of the way, causing him to trip. By the time Carson recovered himself, the damage had already been done. Before him now stood a pure Adonis of masculinity, standing over a foot taller then he had moments before. And now wearing nothing but a pair of shorts (so skimpy and tight that Carson could not discern if they were underwear or not), Carson was able to take in every inch of the now perfect man before him. 

“Dylan…?” Carson’s voice held a lingering note as he slowly got up. Fear. And the new man smelt it.

“It’s Logan, fag.” The entitled man spat, his authority spilling off of him in waves. Carson watched helplessly as a golden cross settled itself within the valley of Logan’s heavenly chest. A chain linked itself around the gigantic neck that created Logan’s divine baritone, as if to say that he held the voice of God Himself. “Now will you beat it already? Can’t you see I’m busy checking my gains here?”

As if to prove his point, the massive man began to flex his gigantic muscles, further intimidating Carson. But Dylan was his best friend, and he wasn’t just about to give up.

“H-Hey!” Carson managed to pathetically squeak out. “Focus! Something has happened to you, it has to do with that stupid GIF.”

That word triggered something within Logan's head; Carson visibly witnessed it. Based on the exaggerated physical reaction, it made it appear as if Logan rarely had had thoughts before. His sheer size, power, and masculinity had been enough for him to make it this far. But being reminded of the GIF did something.

“What GIF are you talking about?” Logan asked, feigning innocence as he stepped forward with his gigantic feet. Within seconds, he was looming over Carson before bending down and picking something up. It was Carson’s phone–Carson had not even realized Dylan had dropped it during his transformation. “Don’t you want to be a real man, like me?”

Carson did not realize what was happening until it was already too late. Logan held the phone in front of him, displaying the looping GIF. 

All at once, Carson's reality exploded. It was like every part of his body was experiencing a nuclear reaction. Within seconds, his entire frame morphed into a new stronger, elite creature. His stomach practically evaporated, revealing a set of abs that pushed out like a shell into a muscle gut unlike any other. His pectorals expanded to the limits of human proportion, forcing his collarbone and shoulder blades to adapt by becoming just as immense. From there his arms thickened rapidly, his veins popping as if they were supplying testosterone directly to his biceps and triceps, bloating them exceedingly.

After his hands had firmly transitioned into mitts, the changes followed down Carson’s legs. His midsection tightened at the waist before reversing outwards, carving a rigid bottom crafted through countless hours and deprived of any pleasure. These buttocks were connected to thickening quads, bulking themselves as they along with his tightening calves became absolute pillars of power, held sturdy of course by two comically large feet.

But as all of this went on–the widening of his jaw, the darkening of his eyes, the increasing funkiness of his own musk–Carson was unable to focus on any of it. It was as if a flashbang had gone off inside his own head, erasing everything before reality settled back in. However, this reality was not the same as before, instead it was one implanted by the GIF, emerging slowly from the mist.

Faith. Family. Freedom. The words came clear as day, almost shocking Carson by their pure power. Faith. Family. Freedom. Faith. Power. Family. Freedom. Faith. Power. Family. Dominance. Freedom. Faith. Power. Tradition. Family. Dominance. Freedom. Faith. Power. Tradition. Family. Dominance. Normality. Freedom. Each word was like a red flash, stunning Carson and digging itself deeper inside of his core. He could not fight it. He did not want to fight it.

Although the transformation only took a few seconds, the cycle within Carson’s head was beyond the constraints of time. It was reforming him, reshaping him into a man. He began to understand his purpose, his standing, his role in the world. To be on top, to be in charge, to be the one. He was meant to carry on what had come before him, he was meant to uphold those sacred values. He was destined to maintain that glory, and he was destined to fight others who would not obey it.

Before long, the constant barrage of messages were no longer being said but repeated by Carson’s own inner monologue, now deeper and manlier than before. The mantra continued to be absorbed as his new values. His new conservative, Christian, heterosexual values. And it turned him on. He lusted after his own strength, his own bigotry, his own innate superiority. His dick could not help but respond, all 9 thick, hair inches plumping up as Carson came to the realization of who he was.

“God, look at these pumps, man,” Hudson puffed himself up in the mirror, exposing his shirtless frame to his best bro. His smug arrogance practically radiated off his golden skin. “Make America Alpha again, amirite bro?”

Logan smirked, “Yeah dawg, and we’re gonna save it with these gigantic muscles.” Logan joined in on the flexing, the pair smirking at their own self-assured ideologies. “How about we go get ourselves some pretty little sluts to thank us for our service?”

Hudson’s hand naturally lowered to rearrange his massive junk. “I’m already wet just thinking about which whore will be taking my load raw.”

[guybodyswaps]

When we started making out, we were just a pair of twinks. He had dragged away from my friend’s party and invited me to his apartment, “for coffee” he’d said. I’d had enough coffee in my time at college to know what that meant. As soon as the door closed behind us, he spun me around and planted a kiss on my lips. Not wanting to disappoint, I reciprocated, pushing my tongue deep down his throat.

I removed his shirt and was greeted by some unexpected muscles. I would’ve sworn that he was as lanky as myself, but it seemed his clothes were just not showing off the goodies. I started exploring his pecs as he tried to take my shirt off, but he was having a lot of difficulty with that. For some reason, it wouldn’t go past my chest.

Annoyed by this delay, I pushed away and pulled my shirt up myself. With a slashing note, it tore apart, revealing an eight-pack and two mighty pecs that, I promise you, weren’t there five minutes earlier. He gasped at the sight of my new muscles and wasted no time to stride towards me and continue our making out session.

That’s when I noticed. The more he kissed me, the more my biceps and quads inflated. It felt like the erotic energy emanating from his mouth was pumping up my physique. And by the look of his massive frame, I’m guessing the effects were working both ways!

[guybodyswaps]

Large Sausage, Extra Cheese

I checked the address of my delivery after pulling up by the dark house.  The large building with red brick and white columns was to be my last delivery of the night.  I smiled, knowing I was delivering a late night snack to one of the brothers of the Kappa Psi Mu fraternity.  I had heard some interesting rumors about the men of this fraternity house.  I adjusted my clothes, grabbed the pizza in the warming bag, and then walked up to the door.

A big, husky young guy with a fair bit of muscles and a nice barrel-ish gut answers the door. He’s wearing a too-tight white wife beater and loose fitting basketball shorts.  He sports a blonde buzz cut with connecting stubble of equal length.  “He’s quite the stud”, I think to myself.

“Yo”, the frat boy says nonchalantly with a small smile. “You got the meat with extra cheese?”

“Bet he’s drinking, watching the game back up in his room in the frat house”, I think to myself, seeing his disheveled attire. “Yeah man, one large meat lovers, extra cheese.”  I set it down on a couch near the door.

“Great,” he says, “Just step inside while I get my wallet.”

“Nice scruff poking over the top of his wife beater”, I think to myself. “I love hairy young guts”

“Sure thing man. Take your time” I say nonchalantly.

He takes a few minutes in finding his wallet, apparently a little drunk, and returns with cash.  I am also vaguely aware that he is now wearing some sort of scented cologne; a deep, lulling fragrance that smells very good and relaxing.

“Something smells good, and it’s not just the pizza” I state, a dopey grin slowly spreading on my face.  “This frat boy smells great now”, I think.  “I wonder what scent that is.  Would it be weird if I lean in to get a better sniff? Probably.  Shit, I am starting to chub up here.”

“Yeah, old family recipe”, the stud before me says with a shrug before he discreetly and nonchalantly cups me over my cargo shorts.

I smile, liking the attention. I step closer to give him more access.

"Extra sausage,” he says with a smile, as continues to massage and rub my crotch, then with his other hand begins to rub my pert nipples through my thin shirt.

I moan a little, and come close so our bellies rub against each other.  "I heard this house had a lot of hot gay frat boys. Glad the rumor is true.“

"Oh you like this, boy,” he says as moves his hand from my groin to my ass, squeezing my ample ass.  "Well, to tell you the truth, you’re my pledge dare”, he states with a grin.

I move even closer, if possible, loving his hand on my ass.  I want to make sure he has full access.  I take advantage of the closeness to breathe in more of his wondrous cologne.  It’s earthy, strong, and a little sweet.  I close my eyes in pleasure both from the smell of this man in front of me and the attention he gives my ass. “Well I would love to help you make it in. What do you have to do?”

He leers and answers, “Just breathe in the cologne and let it happen.”

I start rubbing his hardening cock through his gym shorts. He’s way more hung than I expected.  I can feel his rapidly rising manhood reaching halfway to his knees!

“Yes sir”, I automatically reply, and lean in and take a big whiff from the center of his chest.  It smells heavenly, and I can feel my cock start to drool like crazy in my shorts.

He turns me around slowly, so that his hard cock is grinding against my ass through our shorts. From there he begins to shove his hands right down the front of my shorts, to get a better feel of my sack and rod.

"You’re going to make me moan if you keep this up,” I say languidly.  It’s getting harder for me to focus on anything other than this gorgeous man.  I briefly contemplate that I should head back to the store to close, but that thought drifts out of my head like a cloud on the wind.  There is only his hard dick against my ass, his stocky body against mine, his rough hand down my pants, and his scent.  I inhale another massive lungful, getting what felt like a faint buzz from it.  I exhaled, and felt my cock release another surge of precum.

“You wanna feel good boy? Feel good for the rest of your life?” He says, a hint of cruel darkness to his voice.

“Fuck yeah. I heard you guys are great in the sack”, I shout, a little too loud considering how late it was.

“Just sign here,” he says offhandedly, pull out what looked like a receipt, but it didn’t have anything to do with pizza.  All the while he was getting me nice and horny, beginning to peel down my cargo shorts to get access to my chubby, hairy butt.

“What’s this?” I ask, confused.

“Just sign” he says, getting his body close to me so I get another strong breath of the cologne.

I’m moaning as I’m getting rubbed, grinding my ass back on this stocky frat cub’s cock.

“I should read…..uhhhh…..yes sir.”  With difficulty I manage to shakily scrawl my name on the piece of paper, not bothering to read what it said.  This hunk wanted me to do it, and he was in complete control.

“Good boy,” he smirks, giving me a kiss on the neck. As soon as the pen is down, he pulls off his shorts and starts working his huge cock into me.  It felt impossibly large, way bigger than any other dick that had reamed my ass.  He did not wait for me to adjust to his enormous size, and like a machine without empathy, he used me as a tool to sate his lust.

“Fuck yes, fuck my ass right here in your frat house”, I say after overcoming the initial pain.  His cock was obliterating my prostate, and if he had not moved so I was leaning over the arm of the nearby sofa, I would have fallen over in pleasure.  My mind was reeling between the twin stimuli of the gigantic frat boy dick up my ass and the smell coming from the man it was attached to.  "Fuck, I bet studs like you leak enough pre to use it as lube.“

He used the couch to support me, and quickly pulled my shirt off over my head.  He then began to sensually stroke my sides, rubbing my smooth belly, chest, sides, and back as he continued to fuck me.  He began slowing down his jackhammering, focusing on pulling as much of his length out of me before shoving it back in, making sure to keep maximum pressure on my prostate.

"Hmmm”, he says, "you’re leaking a lot of salty spit yourself.” He takes a bit of drool from my chin.  I didn’t realize my mouth was hanging open slackly, slowly drooling down my face while I could only focus on the dick that felt like it was rearranging my insides.

“Huh? Am I drooling?  Fuck his dick feels good in me. He has a nice fat cock, he’s really filling me up.  God his dick feels so good in me, I hope this feels as good for him as it does for me”, I groggily think.  “Keep doing that, it feels fantastic”, I slowly state.

"Yeah,” remarks, popping his spit-covered finger in his mouth as if tasting it for something.  He smiles and lets out a lusty sigh, and then begins to rub my meaty legs.  I fail to notice as they began to shrink, slowly pulling up where his cock meets my ass. His thrusting has slowed considerably, no longer trying to deep dick me, but trying thrust me forward while keeping his dick shoved as deep in my ass as it would go.  "You’re going to be a great Johnson, thank you so much for helping me make it into the frat.“

"But uhhhh, my name’s Greg”, I reply hazily.  I lean back hard on this pledge, letting him stroke and rub me.  "Your dick must be huge, it feels like it’s in my stomach.“

"Yeah, sure,” says, watching as my legs finish merging into his balls. They swell with the new addition, growing from the size of golf balls to the size of avocados.  He groaned. “My dick is going to be the biggest dick in the entire frat.” He continued to rub all over my upper body, but felt no need to continue to thrust into me.

“My legs feel funny. Like they are saggy and hairy. And, like, full?” I said.  “Wow, it’s getting hard to think.  But this stud, sorry, my master, stopped thrusting”, I think.  “He must want me to milk his dick with my ass.”

“I bet it’s already the biggest” I say slowly, letting more liquid drop from my mouth.  It had its own taste now.  Not like drool, but like something familiar that I couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah, that happens sometimes”, he offhandedly replies, taking a second to squeeze his engorged nuts. "You’re going to be huge,” he states with satisfaction, opening the top of the pizza box and moving it under my head, allowing my drool to splatter on it.

“So as soon as you cream, it’ll all be over,” he says to me. He begins milking my stubby cock, jutting out above the seam where my lower body was completing the process of becoming a penis.  With one hand he rubs my body, watching the change slowly start to creep up my spine and with the other hand I rapidly jacks off my cock, the only thing yet to merge with him below my ribs. “It’ll feel good, just go when you’re ready Greg.  You’re going to make my entire frat really, really happy.”

I happily splatter my precum-drool everywhere. I get a vague sense of pride that I’m making so much. Master must be proud.  My arms begin fusing to my cockflesh body.  I start to feel master’s hair follicle sprouting up my once smooth, chubby body.  I can feel a sense of something below me, something large and vast.  I dimly realize it must be my master, connecting himself to me as every level.  I felt my chest narrowing, becoming more cock-like.  "Fuck. You want me to cum?“ I pant, precum dripping down my face.

He groans in pleasure, as he is now no longer rubbing my body, but stroking his dick.  Which I was becoming a part of.  "Yeah, cum, it’ll all be over when you cum.” he growls.

My drool is getting everywhere. “I’m such a leaky dick”, I think. “I’m a big, musky leaky dick perfect for fucking and jerking off.”  I start buckling, shooting my load as my dick and balls merge to my master’s shaft. Once that happens, the rest of my transformation happens immediately.  I can feel blonde hair covering me, growing into a thick bush.  I feel my head changing into a cockhead, my senses greatly reduces to just smell, taste, and touch.  I feel my organs changing, becoming a urethra and other tissue.  My world dims, allowing me to focus on my last conscious task. I feel master’s stroking, beating me faster and faster.  I feel a swelling in my balls, a building of hot, thick frat boy jizz.  I put all that’s left of me into that load, so that master can shoot it out and I can become one with him.  Then I begin to shoot a colossal load while he lets out a massive grunt, right all over the pizza; buckets full of protein-rich cum coating the warm pizza like a triple serving of creamy, musky goodness.

“Wow in making so much cum”, I think. I can feel my mind fading. “I bet master will love having me unload inside his frat brothers.  He will be so big, I bet he will get off four or more times a day, pumping his loads up every ass or down every greedy mouth.  His cum is gonna grow them all big and strong”

“You’ll do just fine,” he pants, patting his new cock that was rapidly shrinking into a very reasonable, but bulky 16 inches. “Just go to sleep and don’t think too much.” He closes the pizza box, letting the cum soak into the large pizza.  He hastily pulls his shorts up and adjusts his new, larger endowment.

“Hmmmm, his musky pants”, I dimly think.  “Better start leaking in here. He loves me to leak when I’m soft.”

He gently pats his cockhead and lets it leak all over his sexy, hairy nuts and legs. “The next four years were going to be awesome”, he states confidently.  He walks upstairs, where three other men are drinking beer and watching baseball on the TV.

“Pizza’s here,” he says as he places the large, slightly sodden box down on the floor near the middle of the room.  The massive load of cum rapidly soaked through the box and onto the carpet. “It’s a bit soggy, but you’ll love the protein.”

(Based on an RP with @wolfmanbill)

[guybodyswaps]

Unknown Title 4

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

Josh new that this was a dead end job, but he went any way. He had graduated from college a few years ago and bounced around in various internships, temp jobs, unemployment, driving for Uber, you name it. He knew that he wasn't going to be at this job forever, but it paid the bills. Rent was expensive. He had moved to the city with a few college buddies, but one by one, they got married, went out on their own, or moved to find work elsewhere. So, now Josh was paying for a single apartment on his own by working at a call center. Nothing glamorous, but it was not terrible pay. It was regular business hours, the calls were from people buying or renting medical equipment (wheelchairs, crutches, etc.) and customer service issues. He had been there for around six months and started to open up to people. Even so, he always felt a little out of the loop. That was until they hired Gavin. He was charismatic. Learned everyone's name the first time. Always had good suggestions for happy hours, work parties, group activities. He made life bearable. Josh found himself smiling more often whenever they worked shifts together. They didn't really have much in common, but it didn't seem to matter. Gavin was a bit of a fitness buff. Always taking about his protein diet, or his marathon training, or his college swim team. Josh like sports, but more of the watching the game at the bar and eating a bowl of nachos type of fitness. Josh had played hockey in college, but had gained a lot of weight. He was fairly tall, but the years of living with guys that loved drinking had given him a beer gut and a flabby chest. He still was strong, but good use some slimming down. He never really thought much about working out or trimming fat until he heard Gavin going on about his routine.

"You would love it, Josh" Gavin said one day. "It's very aerobic, burns fat, builds muscle. Gives you a rush of energy. You feel great. You look great!" Josh blushed insecurely. Gavin noticed. "I mean you already look great," but that made Josh blush more. "Dude, I get it. Trust me" Gavin said, touching Josh above the elbow. Josh felt awkward and nervous. He noticed Gavin's muscular arm and shoulder, and his eyes wandered down his chest and abs, which were straining against the tight button-up shirt he wore. He broke away and didn't answer. From that point on, he felt a little uncomfortable around Gavin, but still enjoyed talking to him.

It was Gavin's idea to watch a game at a local bar as a work happy hour. 8 - 10 people showed up so they broke into groups at the bar. Josh sat down next to a few girls from the office and ordered a drink. They were mainly talking about their marriages, and how Karen wasn't drinking because she was pregnant. Josh was supportive, but honestly could care less about this conversation. He found himself ordering a second beer and staring blankly at the game. Out of no where it seemed, Gavin appeared and took the empty bar stool next to Josh casually patted him on the shoulder.

"Seems pretty quiet over here," he said. Josh stared into his handsome eyes and saw how dark the stubble on his jaw looked in the light. He relaxed a little instead of recoiling at his touch. "Let me get your next drink," he said, noticing that Josh's second beer was almost gone. "Honestly, it's been pretty quiet over at the other end of the bar too," Gavin continued. "I mean, most of those guys are just talking about work. Or trying to hook up with Rachel -- there's been a lot of that too." Josh looked over and saw that Rachel was surrounded by guys, all laughing and flirting. "I just wanted to watch the game." A long pause. "Well, watch the game and talk to my best bud." He touched Josh's shoulder and this time Josh felt butterflies in his stomach. He looked over and saw that Karen and the girls were watching them and they had smiles on their faces.

"Hey, Gavin," they said playfully. "Finally coming over to the fun side of the party!"

"Well, it's been a rough month," Gavin said, still smiling, so clearly it wasn't that "rough."

"Why, did you break it off with Riley?"

"Yeah, he was being so protective ... and critical ... I'm done with guys like him!"

Josh's eyes went wide and he was trying to think through the alcohol. Gavin had never mentioned Riley to him before. At first he thought, maybe Riley is a girls name and he mean "she," but he replayed it instantly in this head and he definitely heard "he." A million questions were popping into his head. So, Gavin was gay? He didn't "sound" or "act" gay, but those are just stereotypes. Was he bi? Maybe. He was confident in him image, that's for sure. Was Riley the one that made him work out so much? Was that why Gavin was so "handsy"? Was he just a friend? Or was this all in his head. Josh had always though he was straight, like a bro, meat-head type, that wasn't a dick of a person. Was he just a nice guy or was he flirting? While all these questions ran through Josh's mind, the conversation had continued.

"No, I think I'll take some time before starting a new relationship. But, I still go out. Oh, Josh, you'd love this bar I know downtown on..."

"I'm not gay!" Josh blurted out.

"...on 6th Avenue... it's a craft brewery..." Gavin and all the girls were staring. "It's not a gay bar...Josh? Did you think..."

"Sorry..." Josh backpedaled. He was so embarrassed, but he really had been clueless about Gavin before and it just all had combined with the noise of the bar and the nearly three beers he had finished. "Sorry ... I'm not like one of those guys that's ... uh... I'm not anti-gay ... I just don't think I'm ... I mean, I'm not gay ... and I just want to say ... I mean ..."

"Dude, relax. It's fine," Gavin said kindly. Now every look he gave Josh seemed to have a double-meaning. Sensing the awkwardness, Gavin left to talk with another group of the party. The girls excused themselves to go to the bathroom. And the bartender came by.

"Need another drink after that?" He hadn't noticed before, but the barkeep had a trimmed beard and Josh followed his neck down to a trail of sexy chest hairs from his half open shirt. His skin was tan and his chest was steamy. "Eyes up here!" the bartender laughed. "Look, I'll be honest with you. I worked at a gay bar before this gig and you were just checking me out, your friend is hot for you, you are clearly hot for him, and you'd be an idiot to pretend that you aren't gay for him. Just saying. I mean look at that ass!"

Josh looked across the bar at Gavin, lingering a second too long on his tight ass.

"Caught you," said the bar keep with a smile. "You knew exactly where he was in the bar. You've been watching him all night. You've thought about him at night."

"Fuck off," Josh mumbled.

"Woah ... guess that's enough for you," said someone from behind the bar. But it wasn't the man from before. It was a balding middle-aged white guy. Josh thought he was losing his mind. Had he just hallucinated a sexy, gay barkeep. Had that sexy gay barkeep just called him out. Was he gay for Gavin? For years he had wondered, questioned, dodged the questions. "Why don't you have any girlfriends, Josh?" "Why don't you ask her out?" And he remembered his friend in high school, who flat out asked him one day after school: "Josh, are you gay?" He said no, but his freshman year of college, some seniors on the hockey team asked him again, called him a faggot, roughed him up a bit during hazing and made him man up. He hid it from his friends and roommates, but he had to be honest with himself. His internet history sure seemed gay. Those pictures of buff guys that he had put in a hidden folder. Those videos he watched one night and then jerked off in the shower. That time he was watching the U.S. Olympic Men's Gymnastics team and hid his boner under a blanket.

He looked up and saw the football game transform before his eyes. He saw the muscles flexing. Their jerseys coming off. Their naked bodies in the locker room. Two men were kissing, and he saw that it was him and Gavin. His body was chiseled and smooth, his waist slim and his junk stuffed into a speedo. Gavin kissed his chest, his arms, his neck, his mouth. He kissed back. He heard a voice coming from behind the bar. "You are gay. You've always been gay. You've looked at men, dreamed of men, now become the man you want to be. You are gay. Embrace yourself by embracing him. Gay men are strong. Gay men are beautiful. You are strong and beautiful." He saw the barkeep from before ... or at least he thought he saw him ... he couldn't be sure if this was reality or not. He was wearing a tight tank top and skimpy underwear. Josh wanted to reach out and pull him in for a kiss and a fuck. "Not here," the man said. "Bathroom." The thought of stripping down in a stall with this specimen of a man was making Josh hard. He kept hearing in his head. "It's okay. You can look. You are gay. You want to look at him. You want him. You are gay."

The bar erupted in cheers and Josh snapped out of the vision. He tried to celebrate the touchdown, but was more aware of how drunk and sick he felt. He walked through the crowds towards the bathroom. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he felt like he was floating. Like his mind and body were pulling apart. He felt himself walking towards the bathroom, but the room seemed to be spinning. He stumbled into the bathroom and it looked like it was empty. He walked over to a stall and took a piss. It felt relaxing and it seemed that the weird effects of the drink had worn off. He walked over to wash his hands, and saw the door open. He turned his head to see who it was, a completely natural thing to do, but instantly regretted it. The man he saw was shirtless and wearing a speedo. But, in a second, the hallucination was over and it was just a normal dude from the bar, fuly clothed. Josh continued to watch him in the reflection of the mirror as he walked over to one of the urinals. He heard the voice of the bartender in his head again, but this time it felt natural, almost soothing.

"You are only doing what is natural. He is an attractive gay man and so are you. You want to go over and fuck him. And he wants to fuck you." He looked into the mirror and saw his body transform. His shirt and suit pants were gone. He was wearing tight blue briefs and his chest and abs were completely smooth. His muscles started flexing and with a few short spasms, he was looking at a lean, athletic version of himself. His cock pressed against his briefs and he heard the voice saying. "You are ready. Just relax and let the transformation be completed. When I count down from 5, you are going to accept whatever happens in this bathroom. Then, you are going to go back into the bar and notice nothing different. You are a new person. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1."

As the voice faded, Josh realized that the man at the urinal was undressing and pulling him into the bathroom stall. He didn't say anything, but Josh knew what to do. He got on his knees and started kissing the mans abs and worked his way towards his shaved cock. He took the tip in his mouth and felt waves of pleasure. After a few minutes of foreplay, the man traded places with him and gave him a blowjob that felt so natural, so fulfilling, and so beautiful. Josh moaned and felt all of his insecurities fading away. He was forgetting about the years of casual mockery that he had grown up with. He had never had a girlfriend, so that made him gay. He like watching sports, but didn't really enjoy playing them competitively, which made him gay. He would stare at someone on the train, and be called a fag. He would want to wear something or do something or be something and it all made him feel out of place. Not anymore. He climaxed and sprayed cum into this stranger's mouth. He felt his body shudder and he worked his way back to his partner's cock and finished him off. But, as the man released, he felt himself gagging. Was this real? He had never done this before? This wasn't really him. No, he wasn't gay, was he! This was just the alcohol, or something. Or, maybe all those voices. He was lost in the moment and it felt like he was blacking out.

In a second, he opened his eyes and realized he was puking his guts out into the toilet. He was completely alone but could hear dance music on the other side of the wall. He spat and flushed the toilet, which was filled with booze and stomach bile. He stood up and walked into the main section of the bathroom. It was pretty crowded and all eyes turned to him. There was a muscular man wearing leather chaps relieving himself in a urinal. Two guys were fixing their hair and adjusting their tight mesh tops and brightly colored pants. Where was he? Wasn't he at a work party? Where was everyone.

He stepped out into the main hall of the bar and saw dozens of guys dancing. A few gave him "the look," and it was the first time he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt and only had tight black jeans. But, he wasn't worried about that. He was only worried about Gavin. Where was Gavin? He was at the bar just a minute ago. Then he felt someone squeeze his ass and he jumped.

"Hey there, it's just me," said Gavin. He put his arm around Josh's shoulder and pulled him in. "Feeling better?" He looked Gavin in the eye and saw his affection. His cropped hair and stubble were sexy. His clothes revealed how toned and strong he was. He noticed that he had a fully tatted arm. Josh stood a few inches taller, so he pulled Gavin in and kissed him on the forehead. It made Gavin smile.

"Yes much, better" said Josh. He looked around at the room and realized it was clearly a gay bar. And, he was clearly here with Gavin and only Gavin. He looked over at a bartender and it felt like he recognized him from somewhere, but he couldn't quite remember. The man looked back, winked at him, and pointed his eyes onto Gavin. "You know, let's blow this place."

Gavin looked back at him and replied, "I know a place we can blow."

Josh laughed, "Such a horny bastard. I love you."

They giggled all the way to the entrance of the bar, grabbed their coats, but before they made it out of the parking lot in their car, they had stripped down and fucked in the back seat.

Later that night, Josh laid in bed and tried to remember how he had met Gavin. He couldn't quite remember, but it didn't seem to matter.

[guybodyswaps]

Overnight

Jared had always been the pretty boy. Thin frame, smooth skin, a charming smirk that got him free drinks and quick hookups. He moisturized religiously, shaved every inch, and took pride in slipping into size-small jeans that hugged his perky little ass. But deep down, something always tugged at him—a curiosity, a craving he wouldn’t admit: what it might feel like to be the other kind of man.

That night, he went to sleep like usual. Naked under his linen sheets, freshly shaved, his body soft and smooth beneath the covers. The window was cracked just slightly, the air oddly warm despite the season. A strange hum in the air. A scent—musk, primal, wild—crept into the room, wrapping around him like a whisper.

He slept hard. So hard he didn’t even toss or turn. But inside his body, something churned.

By the time the sun cracked the horizon, Jared was already half-awake, groaning. His body ached. His skin itched. He rubbed his belly and froze. It wasn’t flat.

He shot up.

The man staring back at him in the bathroom mirror wasn’t the smooth twink from the night before.

He was… thicker. A broad chest packed with dark, unruly fur. His pecs had puffed out, swollen into mounds dusted with wiry curls. His once-tight waist now carried a soft, proud belly. Hair crawled down from his chest, trailing over a rounder stomach and diving into a thick treasure trail. His arms were beefier. Shoulders broad, veiny. His thighs pressed against each other in his snug boxers.

He leaned closer. His jaw was squarer. His face older, rougher—but hot. Hot in a way that made his old self look like a boy playing dress-up.

He swallowed hard, the sound deeper than before. He raised an arm—and smelled himself.

Musky. Male. Heavy.

His cock twitched.

Somehow… he liked this.

Somehow, this was always buried in him. The beast under the beauty.

And now, it was out.

[guybodyswaps]

Mile After Mile

Allen was anxious. The last few months had been tough, his old career falling through, trouble finding jobs, people turning him away left and right. He’d decided to turn to long distance trucking as a last-ditch effort to still make something of his life, but it required a hefty investment. Namely, the massive semi-truck he was about to purchase off a trucking veteran he’d met online. The man was claiming to give him a great deal, even though it was still the majority of the cash he had left. 

The sun beat down on Allen as he stood in their agreed on meeting spot, a desolate parking lot at the edge of town. Sweat dripped down his neck as he waited, impatient but with no other options. Finally, after what felt like ages, he felt the pavement rumble as a truck tractor turned into the lot, belching black smoke out the top. It pulled up next to him, absolutely dwarfing Allen next to the bright red paint job, only slightly tarnished. The door flew open and the man he’d only spoken to before online climbed down to the ground. He was a hulking man, a full head taller than Allen and at least 250 pounds, though who knows with how much muscle he appeared to be packing. He had on dirty jeans and a stained wife beater, exposing the forest of hair on his sweat-soaked chest, as well as his shoulders that had their own impressive coat. The man had a thick goatee and wore sunglasses under his trucker hat, hiding the fact that he was sizing up Allen.

“So, Allen, is it? Good to meet ya,” the man stuck out his hand. Allen reached out to shake it, his own hand swallowed up by the size of the trucker’s. “I know she looks a little dinged up but she’s served me well, she’ll get any job done if ya take care of her right.” The man laughed, his gruff voice carrying across the empty lot as he turned to face the tractor.

Allen scrambled to pull out his wallet. “Here’s, uh, what we agreed on,” he said while handing the wad of cash over.

“Ah, good. You know, for what this girl’ll do to ya I should be chargin’ double. Consider it a gesture from one generation to the next.” The man laughed at himself again.

“For what she’ll do to me? Shouldn’t it be what she’ll do for me?” Allen puzzled in his head, before being brought back to the present by a hearty slap on his back.

“Good luck out there Allen,” the man said before dropping the keys into Allen’s hand. He turned and started walking back towards town, his thick shoulder hair glowing in the afternoon sun. 

About two weeks later, Allen was getting ready to take off on his first job. It was a long one to start off, going from Houston all the way up to Boise, and would take the whole week to do. He’d adjusted the cab to remind him a little less of the man he’d bought it from, though despite his best efforts there was a lingering stench of sweat. He’d also been finding that man’s shed body hairs every so often as he cleaned or rearranged things as an ever present reminder. Regardless, this was his life now and it was go time. Allen made sure the trailer was attached properly, threw in the destination to his gps, and released the brakes. The truck jolted as it came to life, smoke billowing from the exhaust as he rolled out of the warehouse lot, making his way towards the interstate. 

He’d gone through enough training to get his CDL, but Allen was still apprehensive driving this huge truck alongside thousands of other cars. His hands were white-knuckled gripping the wheel as he cruised up I-45. Some of the other truckers on the road were encouraging over the radio as they found out he was new, but most just chatted between themselves. Allen cranked the AC after noticing that the entire back of his shirt was soaked. Stress sweat, he thought to himself, Or maybe just the Texas sun. 

The first day, thankfully, was uneventful. His body released hours of pent up tension as he pulled into a rest stop in Amarillo, and after eating a quick dinner he was out like a rock. The space to sleep in his cab was actually fairly roomy, but Allen just could not find a comfortable position. He tossed and turned for hours, waking up drenched in sweat. He stripped off his soaked shirt before trying one more time to rest on the now damp bed. His eyes closed, the only thing his mind drifted to was the burly man whose truck he now slept in. His lingering scent intoxicating, Allen’s mind remembered vividly his thickly stubbled jaw, the dark swirls of hair on his chest, even the scent of stale B.O. mixed with deodorant that poured out of the cabin when he’d arrived. His words echoed in the dream, “for what this girl’ll do to ya.”

The alarm blared sharply at seven on the dot. Allen jolted straight up, banging his head on the low ceiling above. “Damn,” he cursed, remembering that ceiling being higher up when he went to bed. He rolled out of bed, rubbing the bump on his head, not noticing the pool of sweat he’d left behind. The rest of the morning was a blur, and before he knew it he was pulling back onto the highway, feeling the road beneath the wheels fly by. He noticed about an hour into the drive that he needed to adjust the mirrors. Odd, since he’d checked them the day before, but he didn’t think much of it. What he did notice is that he felt less stressed. He was gripping the wheel less tightly, he sat a little more relaxed, and he was more comfortable maneuvering the truck around. Not an expert, but a little better than it had been. 

He paused midday for a quick lunch before continuing on, the endless plains and farms rolling by seemingly forever. Between the dull scenery and the afternoon sun starting to blaze into the cabin, Allen’s eyes began to glaze over as minutes stretched into hours of monotony. He saw the odometer climb ten, fifty, a hundred miles. As the miles continued to pass, he felt a twinge of pain in his hand. Startled, he adjusted his grip and thought nothing more of it. Moments later, it hit again. Allen looked down at his hands, eyes widening as he saw them start to shift, to grow larger. His knuckles grew larger and spread apart as his hands swelled, fingers growing longer and calloused, his grip tightening with a grunt slipping out of his mouth. Unknowingly, his cock twitched as he watched a thick black hair push out of the back of his hand. Another dark hair followed it, with more soon after. They spread quickly, with hairs popping up across the backs of his hands, climbing up his fingers, and carpeting his wrists as they too grew in size. The dark shadow slowly crept up his forearms, his light dusting of hair being swallowed up by the growing forest of darker, denser, thicker hairs.

Allen’s breath quickened as he came to his senses. What the hell was happening? He must’ve been seeing things after staring at the road for so long, he thought to himself, rubbing his eyes to try and clear them. But in doing that he could feel the thick hairs on his hand rub against his face, erasing any doubt. Stress was rising; what was he supposed to do? He was barreling down the highway in the middle of nowhere, with a deadline hanging over his head to boot. Those thoughts were cut short when the itch he’d been feeling in his hands returned on his face. Allen had never been able to grow more than some patchy scruff, barely more than peach fuzz, but as he looked in the rear view mirror he could see his jaw darken a shade. His upper lip bristled as stubble pushed out, growing slowly and filling out towards the edge of his lips. Dense hair blossomed around his chin, completing his own goatee before stretching outwards, claiming his jaw under the tight beard that was forming. Though the hair grew dense as it filled in, it stayed short, a thick stubble holding tight to his face.

Allen’s eyes darted between the mirror and the road, speechless at what he could see of his own reflection. Just finish the drive and then you can figure something out, he told himself. As he continued down the road he could occasionally feel the prickles of new hair still popping up on his arms and face, the rate of spread having slowed down but not stopped entirely. Mile after mile, he could tell that the stubble was beginning to creep down his neck. Mile after mile, the bristling of new hairs never quite ceased. The sun began to creep lower in the sky, and after too long of being left with his own thoughts given the situation, the radio crackled to life.

“Breaker, breaker. Got a hell of a wreck northbound, about five miles out. Down to one lane, be careful out there.” The voice cautioned.

“Copy that, thanks for the heads up,” Allen responded, his voice sounding lower than he was used to. Caught off guard by his own words, the familiar sensation returned once again. Beneath his shirt, wispy hairs had started to pop out from around his nipples, at first thin and delicate, but quickly growing darker and thicker. The center of his chest felt it next, with dark hairs sprouting in the slight divot between his unremarkable pecs. The hair stayed close to his skin as it spread, swirling out along the surface of his chest. The patch growing from the center of his chest blended with those emanating from his nipples, forming a full coat that continued to claim more territory. It slowly spread outwards, climbing up towards his collarbone and inching south from his chest as Allen finished up the drive for the day. He pulled off into the rest stop for the night, feeling the prickling from beneath his sweaty t-shirt as hairs started to get caught on the fabric. 

Allen parked the truck and flung open the door, racing to the rest stop bathroom. He stood in front of the dirty mirror, flushed and out of breath, staring at a face that he could only partially recognize as his own. In a panic he pulled off his shirt, exposing his now furry chest to the dim lighting. He was in disbelief. How could something like this even happen? He ran a hand through the hair covering his chest, feeling the wiry strands between his fingers. It felt unnatural, but at the same time it felt good. Really good. Allen’s cock chubbed up slightly in his pants as he continued to rub his hand in circles on his chest. He was caught up in feeling himself when the door to the restroom flew open, another burly trucker walking in. Allen froze. What would this guy think of him standing there, half naked, having some sort of semi-masturbatory moment? The trucker looked up and down at him, eyes lingering for just a moment on his chest, before snorting.

“Give it a few days kid,” he said with a chuckle before turning around and leaving the room. Allen quickly put his shirt back on and returned to his truck for the night; he didn’t need any more incidents like that. But as he sat there in his cab, slowly eating his dinner, the man’s words wouldn’t leave him. In fact, they reminded Allen vaguely of the original trucker he’d bought his rig from. An idea started to form… was the truck doing this to him?

Allen’s alarm blared the next morning, sending him jolting upright directly into the ceiling again. This time he was sure it was lower than yesterday, as he rubbed his head again. Whilst getting ready he couldn’t stop mulling over the possibility that this truck was changing him, turning him into some hairy, masculine trucker. It scared him, but deep down, some part of him was excited, wanted more. He looked in the mirror again but didn’t see anything different from the night before, the same short stubble and chest hair was still there. 

After getting washed up, Allen climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. The truck roared to life, his new body hair standing on end as chills echoed through his body. He took one hand off the wheel and stuffed it under his shirt, feeling the hair puffed up underneath, before slowly taking off onto the road. Within minutes he was cruising comfortably, finally feeling like he knew what he was doing. The miles flew by, fields and plains turning to foothills and then to mountains as he crossed into the Rockies. With more interesting scenery, Allen didn’t even notice the itch appearing in his groin, nor his instinctual response to scratch at it. It started as just the occasional pulling at his waistband, but before long he was one hand on the wheel and one hand fully in his underwear.

Allen’s cock slowly inflated as he probed around down there with his hand, feeling his clean shaven skin become prickly as long dormant hairs reemerged. Soft strands inched out around the base of his cock, slowly spreading outwards with each mile he traveled. Like a timelapse, the hairs pushed out, growing darker, thicker, expanding across his groin. They curled together as they grew longer and longer, tangling into a real man’s bush for the first time in his life. Allen barely registered as his fingers went from scratching over bristly stubble to combing through a dense jungle, pulling at the thick curls as they thickened. Mile after mile, they kept growing, stretching upwards above his waistband and out onto his thighs, his delicate treasure trail growing darker and widening. 

His cock continued to grow in step, at first just tenting his underwear but now fully stretching it out, pushing nine inches and counting. His shaft grew thicker as small hairs began to climb up its girth, threatening to hide its size further as they spiraled out into the greater mass of hair. A deep groan finally escaped Allen’s lips as in an instant his balls tripled in size, swelling to a massive degree and filling his underwear as his sack stretched to compensate. The thick carpet of hair surged down and over, burying them beneath an impenetrable layer of curls. His brain clouded as his new massive testicles flooded his body with more testosterone than he’d ever had in his life, barely managing to keep his hand on the wheel as his cock pushed out another inch, beginning to leak precum in a dribble that would never cease. His bush continued to push out, hairs growing longer every second as it completely filled out the triangle of his groin with a sea of dark fur.

The rush of hormones quickly took effect on the rest of Allen’s body. His pits tingled as soft shoots of hair trickled out of his bare skin. The soft strands quickly grew longer, thicker, and more lush, as each second more pushed out to join them. Follicles, awoken by the surge of testosterone, pushed out hair after hair, curling and tangling together in the increasingly sweaty space. Allen’s body leaked sweat, fertilizing the growing jungle beneath his arms as sweat-soaked hairs spread like wildfire, claiming more and more of his bare skin. Every tick of the odometer caused his pits to grow more wild, hair billowing outwards. The deepest recesses of his pits were shrouded now by the thickest growth, an intoxicating mass of sweaty, musky fur. The front lines continued to push outwards, with curly hairs exploring up and around his arm, blending into his chest hair to create a seamless pelt from pubes to pits. Allen finally pulled his hand out of his crotch, only to shove it directly in his right pit, feeling the still growing tuft of hair. His cock lurched yet again as he teased the thick strands apart with his fingers, feeling how coarse and wiry each hair was. The cab was beginning to smell, as more and more sweat and stink leaked out of his ripening pits, but Allen hardly noticed at all, eyes glazed over yet glued to the road.

Before he knew it, the sun had started to set and Allen needed to pull off for the night. His highway hypnosis wore off, and he realized he barely recalled any of the drive that day, but he’d made good time. The sun dipped below the horizon when he found a rest stop, pulling the truck into a spot and turning it off with a sigh of relief; it was good to be done for the day. Allen entered the restroom to get cleaned up for the night, head to a urinal, and unzipped his now tight jeans. His eyes went wide as a thick swath of fur erupted from his fly, his cock twice the size it’d been and still leaking precum. He should’ve panicked, his brain wanted to, but the words those other truckers had said to him returned to his mind once again. He was convinced now; this truck was turning him into a hairy, masculine trucker. And if his cock was any evidence, he thought that was kinda hot. Really hot, in fact. 

Reason fell to the wayside as he stood there in the urinal, grabbing his erect cock and stroking it, precum flying all over. He was quickly lost in the pleasure, feeling the thick bush at the base of his cock every time he pumped it, Allen imagined what he was becoming, who he would be at the end of this. The images of the first trucker with his thickly furred chest and hair coated shoulders returned to his mind, and that was it. Allen let out a deep moan as his cock erupted, thick ropes of cum coating the wall as his massive, low hanging balls emptied for the first time. He kept shooting for longer than he’d ever had in the past, the flow of cum slowing but persisting until he was left panting, the last ropes getting caught in his own fur. His body shuddered, waves of pleasure shooting through him as his climax subsided.

With sense returning to his head, Allen looked at what he’d done and panicked. If someone walked in now it’d be over for him. He stuffed his still dripping cock back into his pants and fled the scene back to his cab, slamming the door closed and throwing himself onto his bed. His mind was racing, conflicting thoughts at war in his head as he felt his own body becoming the battleground. Did he really want to become this hairy beast of a man? Did he really have a choice in the matter? Allen laid there on the mattress, unable to truly decide, until the exhaustion caught up with him. His eyes slowly closed, and he passed out with his clothes still on, precum stain growing on his jeans.

Allen jolted upright once again as his alarm went off the next morning. He still felt exhausted; a rough night of sleep plagued with images of those other truckers cursing him with their traits had left him in rough shape that morning. He didn’t even bother taking his time to get ready that morning, he was just ready to be done with this job and move on. Instead he threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top and hopped in the driver's seat, gunning the truck out of the lot as the sun peeked out over the mountains. Desperately trying to put the thoughts of the night before out of his mind, he cranked the music as the final day of his trip began. The odometer of his rig ticked up mile by mile as he grew closer finally to his destination, but the truck wasn’t done with Allen quite yet.

As his foot pressed down on the gas pedal, it cracked and shifted, growing wider as his toes shifted farther apart, pressing against his work boots. His other foot joined in as they stretched longer, pushing up sizes as his boots strained from the new mass. Another mile ticked by as dark, thick hairs pushed out of his toes, slowly creeping out from the skin. Another mile. The hairs crept upwards from his toes, dark strands popping out of the top of his foot like weeds, slowly coating his foot beneath a thick rug. Another mile. The hair continued its march, curling up and around his ankles, thick strands tangling into his sock fibers as they sprouted out of his skin. Another mile. The first black strand popped out from the top of his sock. Another mile. A dozen more thick strands followed suit, and moments later a tidal wave of fur crawled up Allen’s calves. The hairs pushed out longer and longer, growing thick and wiry as they coated his shins, followed by his knees. Another mile. Allen’s thighs itched up a storm as they blossomed into a dense expanse of dark wavy hairs, finally connecting up to the monstrous bush exploding out of his underwear. His legs tingled as the pelt solidified, thickening into one seamless stream of hair from his toes to his crotch, with the hairs constantly pushing out further, growing longer and longer each passing mile.

Allen felt the itching from down below and peered down at his exposed legs, catching fleeting glimpses of the hair taking root as he continued his drive. His cock grew harder and harder each time, and his mind, exasperated, began to cave. Maybe it was okay that he was changing like this. Maybe it was for the best; he already felt more confident driving the truck. And the new hair? He was kinda into it.

He scratched unknowingly at his stubble as the subtle itch spread throughout his body once more. The short hairs coating his face slowly started to push out again. His light stubble quickly turned to a short beard as hairs grew longer and thicker. Skin vanished as the hairs grew out, new follicles filled in between old ones, pumping out hair after hair. Allen continued to scratch at his itchy jaw, fingers slowly running through more and more beard as it pushed out from his face. The hairs started to trickle downwards, poking out across his neck. Stubble spread in a wave, climbing higher on his cheeks and down over his Adam’s apple, threatening to connect with his chest hair just below. It only took a few more miles for that to become reality, as the growth surged into his existing pelt. His chest hair, newly invigorated, bristled to life as the hairs swirled more densely than ever before. The hairs grew wiry, pushing away from the skin of his chest and puffing outwards as they filled in thicker and thicker. The curls hid away any bare skin as they tangled together, his pecs completely coated in fur. What was once the frontiers of this rug began to push out, new wisps popping up across his collarbone and soon enough up and onto his shoulders before darkening and thickening up like the rest. Allen groaned as he felt the hairs pushing against his shirt, the fabric growing tighter every minute as the hairs thickened into a pelt an inch thick, puffing out of every opening.

The sun was slowly arcing across the sky as Allen sped towards Boise. He could feel his body changing the further he went, and for the first time he wasn’t worried about it. A smile peeked out from his bearded face as he stuffed a hand under his shirt, feeling the dense fur that had come in. The wiry, springy hairs twisted around his fingers as he combed through them, causing his cock to leak through his shorts. He didn’t mind anymore; this is what a trucker was. A hairy sweaty, masculine beast. His cock pulsed again at that thought, and he could feel the bristling of hairs begin to spread again.

The sparse dusting of hair on Allen’s shoulders began to thicken up, with new follicles bursting to life and pushing out new hairs. Within minutes his shoulders had grown a coat to rival most men’s chest hair, and they weren’t done. Thick hairs extended down over his triceps, connecting to the dense fur on his forearms that had grown days before. Hairs radiated out from his shoulders across his traps, meeting like waves crashing together upon his neck. His back began to tingle and itch as peach fuzz appeared in patches across the empty expanse. The fuzz quickly thickened up into dark, mature hairs, starting around his shoulder blades. It briefly looked like Allen was sprouting hairy wings as the patches spread, thick hairs igniting the fuzz into a real man’s pelt. He could feel the fur slowly inching its way down his back, creating a solid mat of hair from his neck stretching downwards as it claimed more and more territory. The hairs sprouted out, tangling together as swirls and patterns formed across his back. He barely needed the shirt anymore, with insulating fur on all sides of his torso. Allen felt the hairs thickening, pushing against his shirt and the seat behind more and more as he kept driving.

The sun began to hang low in the sky as Allen entered the final stretch of his drive. He looked down at the odometer, seeing that he’d added over 1,500 miles to it already. He watched as it ticked up another mile, sending chills through his body. The fields around him turned to city outskirts as he closed in on his destination. Another mile ticked by, and Allen’s cock started to tent in his shorts. He didn’t want the drive to end now, he wanted the truck to keep molding him, changing him into a different man. Another mile. He could feel the hair across his body bristling as it filled in at large, new follicles coming to life between the old, linking beard to back to pubes in a seamless pelt. His cock was dripping precum like a faucet, pushing more and more against his already too-tight underwear. Another mile. His beard itched as hairs pushed out, lengthening and thickening. Hairs grew denser, a thick mustache unfurling above his lip, pouring over the edges into an increasingly wild beard. Allen took one hand off the wheel and grabbed his engorged cock below. Another mile. Hair continued to flow from Allen’s face, his beard growing bushy as it pushed out further. Allen pumped his cock, precum gushing over the head and down his shaft, soaking into his thick bush. Another mile. Allen’s hand slid up and down his thick shaft, feeling the soft hairs sprouting from it as more precum poured from the tip. He let out a moan as his pelt continued to fill in, looking nearly like fur at some points. He was nearing the end. 

Allen pulled off the highway and onto smaller streets, approaching the warehouse that he’d been assigned. Another mile ticked by. His body nearly spasmed from pleasure as hair pushed out of him, growing thicker and lusher across his form. His huge balls ached, ready to empty themselves as he continued to stroke. He entered the mostly empty loading zone, maneuvering the massive 40-ton truck with ease. He was an expert at this now. Lined up with his dock, he began to back in the truck. His breathing quickened, pumping his cock faster and faster as hair slithered out from every pore imaginable. He inched back towards the loading dock, brakes squealing, until he came to a stop perfectly, the odometer ticking up one last time. His cock erupted, thick white cum exploding all over him and the cab, getting caught in his newly grown pelt. His hand continued to pump as rope after rope shot out, dripping from his beard and the steering wheel as waves of pleasure shook his body. He could feel every hair, every follicle that had sprouted across him, and it was ecstasy. The sensation of hair rubbing together, curling and tangling and coating his body was unimaginable. The flow of cum gradually came to an end as Allen sat there, panting, finally realizing the truth of those old truckers’ words. He was one of them now. Sweaty. Horny. Hairy. He smiled. Bliss.

Hi Y'all! Sorry for the long hiatus, school turned out to be a lot more work than I expected so I had to buckle down and get through the semester. Hopefully this (admittedly long) story makes up for it! I've also hit 3,000 followers which is absolutely insane to me, glad there's so many other fans of hair growth out there. Please feel free to share your own real life tfs, ideas, or anything with me! I need some more juice for future stories, and seeing other guys jock up helps inspire me ;)

[guybodyswaps]

“When did I get this big?” Colton wondered, staring at his reflection in the mirror. "Was I … was I always so huge?”

“Yeah bro,” said Aaron, coming up behind him, rubbing his bare arms and his thick wide chest. “You don’t remember? We’ve been working out every day for like weeks.”

“But I … I don’t know how to … work out,” Colton could only stare at himself, at his giant strong physique.

“Yeah you do. It’s like the only thing you know how to do,” Aaron said. “Remember? Working out feels good.”

As soon as he said those words – “feels good” – Colton felt his mind slipping away.

“Wait – no – what are you doing,” he gasped.

“Feels good,” Aaron repeated, rubbing Colton’s bare arms.

“Bro … what’s happening to me…” Colton slurred. He was forgetting. He was losing his thoughts. His whole life was slipping away. But something else was there – something was replacing his memories. Something simple, something dumb, something that felt … so good.

“There you go, dude,” Aaron grinned. “Feels good, right?”

Colton gave him a big dumb smile and flexed. “Yeah bro,” he said, his old life gone, new strength surging through his body. “Feels so good to be so strong.”

Check out Aaron and Colton’s transformation in my new book, Hypno Himbos.

[guybodyswaps]

“You’d look hot with some more tattoos on your arms,” Jake panted in between kisses.

His boyfriend’s arms were instantly covered in a full sleeve of intricate, colorful tattoos.

“You’d look really hot with a mohawk,” his boyfriend grunted in return. Jake felt a cool rush on the sides of his head as his hair took on a closely shaved look, leaving only a choppy style up on top.

“You’d look hot with a 9 inch cock…”

“You’d look hot with bigger pecs…”

“You’d look hot with 18 inch biceps…”

“You’d look hot with a beard…”

They went on like that, feeling and groping each others’ bodies with each new change that took hold. Finally, they pushed themselves apart to see the results of all the modifications they had manifested for each other.

“Damn baby, you look hot,” Jake said, looking at his now bearded, inked, and muscular boyfriend.

“You look hot, too,” his boyfriend agreed… and then he grinned… “But you’d look really hot with…”

[guybodyswaps]

Frat Founding

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

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

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

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

Worst Chad can say was no, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[guybodyswaps]

Shit I can’t stop thinking about that guy at the gym. So not my type. Looked like such a dumb gym… bro…

Ugh. Fuck. Why does just thinking that word turn me on. It’s sick. Guys like that are such douchebags. But the way he said it to me… swaggered by me… sweaty and thick… looked me in the eyes so directly, called me a… bro…

Mmm yeahhh. Fuuuck. Why am I so turned on. Gotta cool off. Sure, his body was hot. Fine. I admit it. Thick shoulders. Thick pecs. Mmmmm. Bet he has a sic tight abs too. And those biceps. I could never get arms like that. Aww man. What I wouldn’t give…. But no… that’s not me. What’s gotten into me. Im not into that right? I’m nothing like a swaggering, cocky, hot… bro…

Mmmmm man. If only. I mean, I have my priorities but wouldn’t hurt if I put in some more muscle. Lift heavier. Like, I got a good pump going today. Damn like I feel bigger. Everywhere. Nothing like that guy. No… that fucking hot stud with that dumb smirk. Can’t believe that guy noticed me. I mean I’m startin to bulk up and all, making some good gains… but for him to call me out… call me a bro…

Uhhhhhh fuuuck yeah. Like why shouldn’t he? I’m looking good. Feeling good. Got such a good pump and shit this water feels good. And like I swear I’m bigger today. Gym’s really paying off. Mmmm yeah. I gotta track down that hot stud from before and show him what I got. Can’t stop thinkin about muscle. Huhu I’m such a gym bro.

[guybodyswaps]

How about a guy who goes to see the Barbie movie and turns into a gay himbo Ken

Mike sighed, but nonetheless followed behind his girlfriend as she led him towards their seats in the theater. She'd been begging him to go see the new Barbie movie with her. Mike had been hesitant, not wanting to be the only guy in a movie meant for girls. Still, he figured that a few hours watching some chick flick wouldn't kill him.

With a huff, the muscle man saw down in his seat and began to focus his attention on his popcorn. The movie theater dimmed and the movie began to play, the large Barbie logo popping onto the screen with bright flashes of bubblegum pink.

The pink lights were so intense that Mike's vision was blurred for a moment, all he could see was a pink haze.

Mike tried to rub it out of his eyes, but no matter what, it was as if he were wearing a hot pink veil over his face. He began to squirm in his seat as his clothes started to feel uncomfortably tight.

His pants seemed to constrict around him, more specifically around his ass. The hunk squirmed around in his seat as he tried to get comfortable, unsure as to what was going on. He chalked it up to his jeans just shrinking in the wash. However, the same sensation started to appear along his chest-- his shirt tightening around his pecs.

Cocking his eyebrow, Mike looked down at himself. The pink blur in his eyes made it look as if his black shirt was now a hot pink. It looked tight and he could even see nubs from where his nipples poked noticeably against it. In confusion, Mike reached up and poked at his chest, his finger sinking in much more than it should, indicating that his clothes hadn't shrunk. He'd gotten bigger.

His heart racing in his larger chest, Mike knew that something wrong was going on. He looked around frantically at the other moviegoers to see if anyone else noticed something.

His eyes landed on the screen right when Ryan Gosling as Ken appeared on screen.

"Wow," Mike gushed, noticing a higher quality to his usual deep voice, "he's, like, so hot."

The big man flinched at the foreign words that left his mouth, concerned with what he'd said and how he'd said it.

"Right?" his girlfriend said, elbowing him. "You always go after the blonds though."

He didn't know why his girlfriend seemed to b playing into what was happening. In his panic, Mike bolted out of his seat and out of the theater. As he moved, he noticed that he moved with an arch to his back, thrusting his big pecs outward.

Mike hurried into the bathroom and gazed into the mirror, shocked at his altered reflection.

It wasn't just his eyes, somehow his clothes had actually taken on a bright pink color. His pecs were huge! They rounded out and protruded off his chest at an obscene angle, capped with large nubby nipples. When he turned to the side, the man wailed at the sight of his massive bubblebutt that was at least three times as large as the perky ass he'd had. His lips had puffed out, giving him a perfect set of DSLs. As a final tough, his hair was now a bright blond.

"I, like, look like a gay Ken doll!" Mike gasped, twittering his hands effeminately as he freaked out.

As he studied his new himbo body, the bathroom door opened and two more men stumbled in. They were also dressed up in bright pink, their pecs and asses inflated to slutty proportions. Their eyes widened as the looked in the mirror and studied their platinum blond hair.

The three men looked at each other, each of them knowing that the Barbie movie had done something to them.

Mike opened his mouth to ask them for help, but instead he heard himself chirp, "Why are we in here? Like, Ken is soooo hot! We should be watching him!"

One of the other men nodded eagerly, although his eyes were panicked. "Totally!" he agreed.

The three men rushed out of the bathroom and back to the theater, applauding loudly when Ryan Gosling's Ken began working out on screen.

[guybodyswaps]

Locked In

Nate heard the doorbell ring and wondered who it was. He lived alone in a one-bedroom apartment after graduating college magna cum laude with a degree in biochemistry. However, Nate didn't have too many friends, or even a boyfriend to call his own. He was content with that, for now, but did want to put himself out there a bit more. He did wonder if it was one of his hunkier neighbors who was at the door, but to his dismay, it was only the mailman.

"Nate Silver?" the mailman asked.

"Yes, that's me," Nate responded. Normally, he would have gotten the mail from his box downstairs, and even if he did order a package, it would have been left there as well. "If I may ask, why the hand delivery today?"

"The sender gave us explicit instruction to hand the package to the recipient and to confirm their identity before releasing the package. I've done this before with other customers, but it's admittedly pretty rare."

"Oh, okay," Nate replied, relieved that it was something as simple as that. The mailman then handed him the package and Nate signed the device. Once everything was squared away, the mailman handed Nate his actual mail as well, since he was already making a trip directly to him, and then left. Nate did wonder just what was inside the package and who had sent it. The return label had been mostly washed away by the rain they had been having recently, and Nate couldn't make out any words. The package also had some heft to it as well.

He brought it to the kitchen counter and opened the package using one of his knives. To his surprise, on top of some ripped-up old newspaper, was a gold medal. And it wasn't one of those cheap plastic ones that kids got at the end of the sports season; no, this was made of real gold it seemed like. Nate picked up the gold medal, wondering if it was some kind of mistake if he got this or not. As he looked closer at the gold medal, something strange happened. Nate found that he couldn't look away from the gold medal. He couldn't even blink anymore either!

That gave him enough time to read what was on the gold medal. It was written in Latin, but he had taken Latin in high school, and in college as well, so he was able to pronounce the Latin words correctly. In English, the words engraved on the gold medal read: "You have been selected by a higher power. To achieve your godliness, finish reading this incantation." Once Nate said the last syllable, there was a flash of bright light from the medal, and Nate thought that whatever happened to him would happen instantaneously. However, that was mostly false; the only thing that happened immediately after the flash was that Nate was now stark naked.

Thankfully, he had locked his apartment door after the mailman left, so no one else would be able to come in and see him like this, even though that would have been extremely unlikely before all of this. Nate then felt something happening deep inside his body, emanating out towards his skin. It was a gradual process, so he wasn't sure that it was even happening at first, but it was clear that he was gaining muscle. The muscle growth was happening all at once, but Nate noticed that different parts of his body were growing at different rates. He focused on his pec growth first.

Nate had been flat-chested for pretty much all of his life; he had never stepped foot in a gym before. But now he was gaining quite a bit of muscle in his chest, and his pecs were almost literally popping right now. They became rounded and firm with a little bit of heft to them, just like the gold medal. Nate couldn't accurately tell just how big both of his pecs had gotten, since his body was still frozen and he was still stuck staring at the gold medal. However, it was quite the dramatic increase from where he had started.

It was actually Nate's abs that had finished growing first, the skinny nerdy twink not having any visible abs before this. But it wasn't long until he had a chiseled six-pack of abs, all clearly delineated and with deep rivers separating them all. He would have loved to feel them up with his free hand, but unfortunately he was still stuck. His biceps and other arm muscles were what Nate focused on next, and thanks to the angle he was holding the gold medal in, his biceps peaks unfortunately weren't visible, just yet. However, once he would finally have control over his body again, they were definitely there, along with his triceps and other arm muscles growing in size to match. He had been called "spaghetti arms" on more than one occasion in the past, so it was nice that they were thick and muscular now.

And if they didn't say "spaghetti arms," it was probably "spaghetti legs," but Nate's legs grew in size to match his new and impressive frame. His new legs were as thick as some tree trunks were, and even his feet grew in size as well! Thankfully, all of his clothes had been flashed off of him, including his socks and shoes. His flat ass also got a good amount of muscle on it now as well, the nerd-turned-jock ending up with a juicy plump bubble butt. And while someone like Nate would be pedantic and note that the cock isn't really a muscle, it too grew at this point as well, both in length and in girth. Nate had had an average-sized cock before, but he ended up with a cock that rivaled some porn stars' cocks, and was even bigger than some of those porn stars as well!

Nate now had the muscles of a jock, but there were some other bodily modifications that needed to happen. His face changed as well, his jawline becoming much more defined and chiseled, and there were various small touchups throughout, such as removing all marks of acne from his skin. His hair was a dramatic change as well, going from locks that reached down to his shoulders to nearly a buzz cut, with a nice fade on either side. Nate also gained tattoos, written in Latin but not directly because of the incantation itself; they would have been in Latin if the incantation had been in Greek or Polish or even English.

Nate then looked almost exactly like he did in the picture above; the only thing missing right now were the bracelets and watch on his wrist. Nate was able to see out of the corner of his eye as they magically appeared on his wrist, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Nate also watched, in a weird mix of dismay and awe, as the room and apartment around him changed, becoming different in a way that would suit a jock like him. It was still a one-bedroom apartment in the same city he was currently living in, in the same building for that matter, but it was much dirtier yet modernized at the same time, dirty clothes scattered around the apartment while everything on the wall was either black or white.

Nate wasn't completely keen on all of the changes happening to him, though. While he did like his muscles, and especially his bigger cock, he had vowed never to get a tattoo before and the new aesthetic of his apartment was no longer him. However, that turned out to be the least of his worries, as the feeling that had been emanating from his chest or stomach for quite some time moved to his brain. "No, I don't want to be a dumb jock!" Nate wailed in his thoughts, but there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn't blinked in about a half hour or so, his body still completely frozen and he was stuck staring at the gold medal.

But unfortunately for Nate, there was no use. Thoughts of chemical equations and how they interacted with organisms slowly were replaced with how to work out correctly at the gym, the best positions to have sex in, and a whole bunch of other topics befitting a dumb jock. If there was one silver lining to this entire thing, it was thankfully that his sexuality didn't change; Nate would just end up being a dumb jock himbo. It was almost exactly a half hour after Nate had finished reading the incantation that the transformation was complete. He was able to blink again, the first sign that he was no longer locked in but rather himself again, his new self.

"Fuck, how long have I been sitting here?" he asked himself out loud, his arms admittedly in pain from being stuck in place for such a long time. "And I needa find some clothes to wear! I hope none of my jocks reek; I really needa fuckin' do some laundry!" Nate chuckled to himself. In his new life, he was no stranger to being nude in his apartment; after all, his body count in this apartment was in the triple digits! He placed the gold medal down, not thinking anything of it. The new Nate had won some actual gold medals before, but they were mostly displayed in the bedroom. He did wonder why he had brought one out to the kitchen, while naked as well, but Nate knew that he wasn't the smartest guy around, not by a mile. He placed the gold medal in his room, not knowing the magical power that it had. Nate thought that this was how life had always been, and now, he wouldn't have it any other way!