jakester15100

[jakester15100]

When he started packing on muscle, people loved it. He could barely walk down the street without someone asking to feel his arms. He loved the attention, but as 200 pounds became 250, then 300, then 350... the attention changed.

He got a lot more shocked stares, and disgusted looks, but as he kept swelling with size he didn't care about peoples reactions. Being almost 400 pounds of pure muscle felt better than any hand on his bicep ever could. Plus, while it was rarer, there were still some people brave enough to ask. those were his favorites. When he could hear them gasp as they felt the rock hard bicep, some of them even letting out a little moan? It'd make him rock hard in a second.

[jakester15100]

His trainer called him... but he could hardly turn his head. He was just too massive. God, will this growth ever stop? Will his trainer ever be happy?

[jakester15100]

The Bright Side

I entered my uncle's room and took a deep breath. It's been days since he was allowed to leave and the room stunk like sweat, cum, and armpit. But my uncle didn't seem bothered by it:

He lounged in his expensive leather couch with his anaconda-like cock dangling out in the open. This was the same man who yelled at me until I cried when I spilled water on his couch. His thick, naked legs tensed as he noticed me. I took careful steps to show nothing was in my hands. My uncle, a man named Morgan, stretched with his muscled torso and armpits out in the open. Sweat glistened on his body and drying streaks of cum smeared on the couch.

To make a wild story short: my uncle was a smart, arrogant archaeologist. When he wasn't living in the gym, he was living in his lab, studying old relics. His latest discovery had him excited at the knowledge he could learn, but instead he unleashed the several thousands of years caveman from his final resting place.

Now for the past week, Morgan had been locked in his apartment while I tried to learn more about how to help him. It's been a helpless endeavor, and his boss is already about to fire him. But he can't return to the lab the way he was now. He's a total idiot. The mind of a scientist gone and just left with an ancient hunter in the body of an athletic late-30-something year old. All I've seen him do is tear off his clothes and furiously jerk himself off. I never thought of my uncle as a sexual man, but for the first day, I tried as hard as I could to have the caveman stop, but he kept finding ways to take off his pants or jerk himself off without hands. Morgan didn't have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend—so little I knew about my uncle—and I thought of him as an asexual intellectual, but now I knew that wasn't the case. The past few days had the caveman and I finding tubes and tubes of lube, condoms, sex toys, and BDSM gear.

Now, I found the caveman, who I just decided to call Morgan, liked to be tied up and used like a chained stallion.

I used the cross necklace around his neck to lead him like a bridle to the bedroom. I could smell the stink of dried sweat on him. Later I would have to wash him, but for now I clipped him in his harness and get up. I had to get back to work in half an hour, so this wasn't a pleasure errand, just something needed to be done like feeding a dog.

I turned my back to him and started to take off my clothes. I heard the creaking of the leather harness as Morgan tried to mount me, but the ties held. I lowered myself on my hands and knees and slowly backed up until I felt Morgan's strong hands grasp at my hips. He dragged me closer, and I felt his sticky knees lock against my ribs and he fully mounted me. As he adjusted his muscular frame and settled his full athletic body on top of me, I fingered my hole with lube.

Then Morgan plunged himself into me. His thick, veiny cock slid in and out. It had only been a couple hours since he last entered me, and my hole hadn't had time to tighten up again. The full filling of his cock felt familiar now. The animalistic grunting of Morgan as he went balls deep into me almost sounded like words. I tried to brace against the force of his thrusts and his weight, but I nearly crumpled under his fucking.

Soon it was over, and I felt the hot, flooding sensation of the caveman shooting ropes of cum into me. I stood up, and dressed quickly. I felt like I needed to shower, but I didn't have time. I'd have to hope no one smelled Morgan's musks on me. I found that his pheromones were heightened and people tended to notice.

I unclipped Morgan's harness and he grunted away back to the leather couch. He recently gotten into the hobby of making cave paintings on the walls. I wished I knew the language he was speaking, but sadly there wasn't enough information. And worse yet, I wondered if I could even save my uncle, but the bright side is, I might prefer this low IQ jock than my stuck up uncle.

[jakester15100]

Parasite Bros

The dorm room was always too small for the three of them, but it wasn’t the cramped space that made Kyle and Josh exchange knowing glances every time Drake walked in.

It was the energy that radiated off him, so palpable it was almost dizzying. Drake was everything they weren’t—confident, muscular, effortlessly charming. He strutted around the room as if it belonged to him, his biceps flexing with every move, his voice dripping with that alpha male swagger that made people either hate him or want to be him. Kyle and Josh? They wanted to take him.

It started small, almost imperceptible. A flicker of warmth when Drake brushed past them, a subtle shift in the air when he laughed too loud. Kyle first noticed it one morning after Drake had spent the night out partying. The guy looked a little less... bright. His tan seemed duller, his usual cocky grin softer, almost forced. Meanwhile, Kyle caught his reflection in the mirror and paused. His cheekbones looked sharper, his jawline more defined. He glanced at Josh, who was staring at him with the same dawning realization.

“Do you feel it too?” Josh asked, his voice low, almost reverent.

Kyle nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the mirror. Something was happening, something they couldn’t explain but couldn’t deny either. It wasn’t just Drake’s fading vitality. It was the way they were changing, growing. Their muscles felt firmer, their skin clearer, their confidence surging. It was like they were absorbing bits of Drake, piece by piece.

By the end of the week, the changes were undeniable. Drake, who usually dominated the room, seemed quieter, smaller. His once-broad shoulders slumped slightly, his voice less commanding. Meanwhile, Kyle and Josh were thriving. They moved with a newfound grace, their bodies filling out, their energy palpable. It was intoxicating, this power they had over him, this hunger they couldn’t ignore.

“He doesn’t even realize it,” Josh murmured one evening as they watched Drake fumble with his phone, his usual swagger replaced with a quiet frustration. “It’s like he’s... dimming.”

“And we’re glowing,” Kyle added, a sly smile tugging at his lips. He flexed his arm, marveling at the way his bicep strained against his sleeve. It was more defined than it had been last week, more like Drake’s. But not just his muscles—his confidence, his presence, it was all growing, feeding off whatever they were leaching from their roommate.

The first time they realized they were stealing more than just his vitality was after a particularly long night of drinking. Drake had passed out early, his usual bravado drowned in tequila. Kyle and Josh stayed up, their bodies humming with restless energy. They sat on the floor, leaning against each other, their breathing synced in a way that felt almost primal.

“Do you feel it?” Kyle asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t need to elaborate. Josh knew exactly what he meant.

“Yeah,” Josh replied, his hand instinctively moving to his chest. His heart was pounding, his body warm, almost electric. It wasn’t just energy they were drawing from Drake anymore. It was something deeper, something essential. They could feel it coursing through them, reshaping them, making them stronger, bolder, more.

The next morning, Drake looked worse than ever. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, his usual arrogance replaced with a hollow emptiness. He barely spoke as he shuffled to the bathroom, his movements sluggish, almost pained. Kyle and Josh exchanged a glance, their eyes gleaming with a hunger they couldn’t—and didn’t want to—control.

“We should stop,” Josh said later, his voice trembling with a mix of guilt and desire. But even as he said it, he knew he didn’t mean it. The sensation was too addictive, too right. It was like they were meant to do this, like they’d been starving their whole lives without even realizing it.

“We can’t,” Kyle replied, his tone firm but soft, almost comforting. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Josh’s arm. The contact sent a shiver through both of them, their connection growing stronger with every touch. “It’s not just about us anymore. It’s about him. He needs us as much as we need him.”

Josh looked at him, his eyes searching for any sign of doubt. But there was none. Kyle’s gaze was steady, his conviction unshakable. They were in this together, bound by something they couldn’t explain but couldn’t escape either.

As the days passed, the changes became impossible to ignore. Drake’s once-ripped physique softened, his muscles shrinking, his energy fading. His voice, once strong and commanding, grew quieter, his laughter less frequent. Meanwhile, Kyle and Josh blossomed. Their bodies grew leaner, more defined, their confidence radiating like a force field. They walked taller, their movements fluid, their presence magnetic. It was power, pure and unfiltered, and they reveled in it.

One night, after another long day of classes, they found themselves alone in the dorm. Drake had gone out, his energy so depleted he barely managed a goodbye. Kyle and Josh sat on their beds, the air between them charged with an intensity they could no longer ignore.

“Do you think he knows?” Josh asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at Kyle, his eyes dark with a mix of guilt and need.

“No,” Kyle replied, his tone calm but firm. He leaned forward, his gaze locking with Josh’s. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re not hurting him. We’re just... taking what he doesn’t need.”

Josh hesitated, his throat tightening. It wasn’t that simple, and he knew it. But the hunger, the need, it drowned out the guilt, leaving only desire. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Kyle’s hand. The contact sent a shock through both of them, their connection deepening, their hunger growing.

“We’re not just taking his energy,” Josh murmured, his voice trembling. “We’re taking him.”

Kyle nodded, his eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and something darker: greed. “And we’re going to keep taking until there’s nothing left.”

--

The whispers started first. Kyle noticed it in the cafeteria, the way people’s eyes lingered on him a little too long. Girls who’d never given him a second glance before were now giggling as he passed, their cheeks flushing. Guys he’d known for years clapped him on the back, commenting on how he’d “bulked up” since last semester. He’d just smile, shrugging it off, but inside, he felt a thrill. It wasn’t him—not really. It was Drake.

Josh, on the other hand, was less subtle. He caught himself accidentally flexing in the mirror more often, his reflection now more chiseled, more powerful than it had ever been. Even his walk had changed—a confident stride that made heads turn. But as they sat in their dorm room that evening, the weight of it all began to settle.

“People are starting to notice,” Josh said, his voice low as he stared at his hands. His fingers were thicker, stronger, veins subtly popping under the skin. “They’re asking questions. Did you see the way Coach looked at me during practice? Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.”

Kyle leaned back in his chair, his T-shirt stretched tight over his chest. He’d gone up a size, and the fabric clung to his new muscles in a way that felt both foreign and intoxicating. “Yeah,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair—fuller, thicker now. “But what can we do? We can’t just stop. Not when it feels this good.”

Josh’s eyes flicked to Drake, who was sprawled on his bed, scrolling through his phone. The once-buff jock looked... smaller somehow. His shoulders weren’t as broad, his arms not as defined. Even his usual cocky grin seemed weaker, less sure.

“He’s not as strong as he used to be,” Josh murmured, glancing at Kyle. “Do you think he knows?”

Kyle smirked, a dark glint in his eye. “Does it matter? He’s still got plenty left to give. And we need it. I need it.”

The air between them thickened with unspoken hunger. They’d been feeding off Drake passively for weeks, but now, the thought of taking more—taking it all—was irresistible.

That night, when the dorm was quiet and Drake’s breathing had evened out into sleep, Kyle and Josh exchanged a look. No words were needed. They moved silently, their shared desire a tangible force as they crept toward Drake’s bed.

Josh was first, slipping under the covers, his body pressing against Drake’s. The jock stirred but didn’t wake, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Kyle joined moments later, his own body molding against Drake’s other side. Their hands began to move, almost of their own accord, skimming over Drake’s skin.

It was easy, too easy, to feel the power thrumming beneath their fingers. Drake’s vitality, his strength, his everything, was right there for the taking. Kyle’s hand found Drake’s bicep, and he could feel the muscle there, still impressive but softer now, as though it had been hollowed out. He squeezed, and a rush of energy surged through him, his own arm tensing, growing more defined.

Josh’s breath hitched as he pressed his hand to Drake’s chest, feeling the once-firm pectorals yield under his touch. He could feel the transfer, the shift of power from Drake to him. His own chest swelled, his abs tightening as though he’d just finished a grueling workout.

“He’s weaker,” Josh whispered, his voice trembling with awe and lust. “Can you feel it?”

Kyle nodded, his other hand sliding lower, tracing the lines of Drake’s abs. They were still there, just barely, but barely was enough. As his fingers brushed the skin, he felt the familiar rush, the way his own torso hardened, his muscles becoming more pronounced.

But it wasn’t just the muscles. Kyle’s hand drifted lower still, and he felt the unmistakable stirring in his own pants as he palmed Drake through his boxers. Drake’s cock was still impressive, but it was... off. Smaller. Softer. Kyle’s own erection strained against his jeans, thicker, longer, and impossibly hard.

“God, look at you,” Josh breathed, his hand moving to Kyle’s fly. He unzipped it carefully, pulling out Kyle’s cock and stroking it with a reverence that made Kyle’s breath catch. “Do you see this? It’s... it’s huge.”

Kyle stared down, his heart pounding. His cock was a monster, thick and veiny, curving upward with an almost predatory grace. He’d always been average before, but now? Now he was something else entirely.

“It’s not just me,” Kyle muttered, his voice rough as he reached for Josh’s pants. He freed Josh’s cock, and they both stared in stunned silence. Josh was just as big, just as imposing, their twin erections a testament to what they’d taken from Drake.

“We’re... we’re gods,” Josh whispered, his hand wrapping around his own cock, stroking it slowly. “Look at us. Look at what we’ve become.”

Kyle couldn’t argue. He couldn’t even speak. He just watched as Josh’s hand moved, his own fingers joining the rhythm, their cocks throbbing in unison. They were stealing from Drake, yes, but in that moment, it felt less like theft and more like destiny.

Drake mumbled something in his sleep, his body twitching weakly, but neither Kyle nor Josh paid him any mind. They were too focused on themselves, on their own transformation.

“I... need more man” Kyle moaned.

Kyle’s breath quickened as he yanked Drake’s trousers down, exposing the jock’s firm, rounded ass. His eyes raked over the muscle and skin, now trembling slightly from the energy they’d already drained. Drake’s body was still taut, but there was a vulnerability to it now—a weakness that made Kyle’s cock throb even harder. Without waiting for Josh to react, Kyle spat into his palm and stroked his own massive shaft, the precum already beading at the tip. It glistened in the dim light, a testament to the power coursing through him.

God, I need this, Kyle thought as he positioned himself behind Drake. He pressed the swollen, spongy head of his cock against Drake’s tight hole, feeling the resistance give way as he pushed forward. Drake stirred in his sleep, a faint groan escaping his lips, but Kyle didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The heat of Drake’s body enveloped him, and with each inch he sank in, the drain intensified. It wasn’t just energy—it was something deeper that made Kyle’s vision blur with pleasure.

Josh watched, transfixed, as Kyle’s muscles seemed to ripple with every thrust, growing even more defined. The transfer was palpable, Drake’s strength flowing into Kyle in waves. Josh couldn’t resist; he reached out and gripped Drake’s shoulder, feeling the jock’s vitality slip away as Kyle took what he wanted. Drake’s once-chiseled body was softening under their touch, and the power they gained was intoxicating.

Kyle’s hips moved with slow, deliberate force, each stroke driving him deeper into Drake. The sensation was overwhelming—the tightness, the heat, and the rush of stolen strength all blending into a singular, all-consuming need. Drake’s ass clenched involuntarily, and Kyle groaned, his cock swelling even thicker inside him. He could feel the drain intensifying, his own body growing stronger, more dominant, as Drake’s weakened beneath him.

“Fuck… this is it,” Kyle panted, his voice guttural as he gripped Drake’s hips, pulling him closer. “He’s giving everything to me.”

Josh’s hand moved to his own cock, stroking in time with Kyle’s thrusts. He could feel the energy in the room, the shift of power that left them both breathless. Drake was fading—they could feel it—but the hunger inside them was only growing. And as Kyle drove deeper, they both knew there would be others. Others who could give them what they craved. And as they lay there, their bodies thrumming with stolen strength, they couldn’t help but wonder... how far could they go? How much could they take?

The need to leech was insatiable.

[jakester15100]

Parasite Bros

The dorm room was always too small for the three of them, but it wasn’t the cramped space that made Kyle and Josh exchange knowing glances every time Drake walked in.

It was the energy that radiated off him, so palpable it was almost dizzying. Drake was everything they weren’t—confident, muscular, effortlessly charming. He strutted around the room as if it belonged to him, his biceps flexing with every move, his voice dripping with that alpha male swagger that made people either hate him or want to be him. Kyle and Josh? They wanted to take him.

It started small, almost imperceptible. A flicker of warmth when Drake brushed past them, a subtle shift in the air when he laughed too loud. Kyle first noticed it one morning after Drake had spent the night out partying. The guy looked a little less... bright. His tan seemed duller, his usual cocky grin softer, almost forced. Meanwhile, Kyle caught his reflection in the mirror and paused. His cheekbones looked sharper, his jawline more defined. He glanced at Josh, who was staring at him with the same dawning realization.

“Do you feel it too?” Josh asked, his voice low, almost reverent.

Kyle nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the mirror. Something was happening, something they couldn’t explain but couldn’t deny either. It wasn’t just Drake’s fading vitality. It was the way they were changing, growing. Their muscles felt firmer, their skin clearer, their confidence surging. It was like they were absorbing bits of Drake, piece by piece.

By the end of the week, the changes were undeniable. Drake, who usually dominated the room, seemed quieter, smaller. His once-broad shoulders slumped slightly, his voice less commanding. Meanwhile, Kyle and Josh were thriving. They moved with a newfound grace, their bodies filling out, their energy palpable. It was intoxicating, this power they had over him, this hunger they couldn’t ignore.

“He doesn’t even realize it,” Josh murmured one evening as they watched Drake fumble with his phone, his usual swagger replaced with a quiet frustration. “It’s like he’s... dimming.”

“And we’re glowing,” Kyle added, a sly smile tugging at his lips. He flexed his arm, marveling at the way his bicep strained against his sleeve. It was more defined than it had been last week, more like Drake’s. But not just his muscles—his confidence, his presence, it was all growing, feeding off whatever they were leaching from their roommate.

The first time they realized they were stealing more than just his vitality was after a particularly long night of drinking. Drake had passed out early, his usual bravado drowned in tequila. Kyle and Josh stayed up, their bodies humming with restless energy. They sat on the floor, leaning against each other, their breathing synced in a way that felt almost primal.

“Do you feel it?” Kyle asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t need to elaborate. Josh knew exactly what he meant.

“Yeah,” Josh replied, his hand instinctively moving to his chest. His heart was pounding, his body warm, almost electric. It wasn’t just energy they were drawing from Drake anymore. It was something deeper, something essential. They could feel it coursing through them, reshaping them, making them stronger, bolder, more.

The next morning, Drake looked worse than ever. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, his usual arrogance replaced with a hollow emptiness. He barely spoke as he shuffled to the bathroom, his movements sluggish, almost pained. Kyle and Josh exchanged a glance, their eyes gleaming with a hunger they couldn’t—and didn’t want to—control.

“We should stop,” Josh said later, his voice trembling with a mix of guilt and desire. But even as he said it, he knew he didn’t mean it. The sensation was too addictive, too right. It was like they were meant to do this, like they’d been starving their whole lives without even realizing it.

“We can’t,” Kyle replied, his tone firm but soft, almost comforting. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Josh’s arm. The contact sent a shiver through both of them, their connection growing stronger with every touch. “It’s not just about us anymore. It’s about him. He needs us as much as we need him.”

Josh looked at him, his eyes searching for any sign of doubt. But there was none. Kyle’s gaze was steady, his conviction unshakable. They were in this together, bound by something they couldn’t explain but couldn’t escape either.

As the days passed, the changes became impossible to ignore. Drake’s once-ripped physique softened, his muscles shrinking, his energy fading. His voice, once strong and commanding, grew quieter, his laughter less frequent. Meanwhile, Kyle and Josh blossomed. Their bodies grew leaner, more defined, their confidence radiating like a force field. They walked taller, their movements fluid, their presence magnetic. It was power, pure and unfiltered, and they reveled in it.

One night, after another long day of classes, they found themselves alone in the dorm. Drake had gone out, his energy so depleted he barely managed a goodbye. Kyle and Josh sat on their beds, the air between them charged with an intensity they could no longer ignore.

“Do you think he knows?” Josh asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at Kyle, his eyes dark with a mix of guilt and need.

“No,” Kyle replied, his tone calm but firm. He leaned forward, his gaze locking with Josh’s. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re not hurting him. We’re just... taking what he doesn’t need.”

Josh hesitated, his throat tightening. It wasn’t that simple, and he knew it. But the hunger, the need, it drowned out the guilt, leaving only desire. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Kyle’s hand. The contact sent a shock through both of them, their connection deepening, their hunger growing.

“We’re not just taking his energy,” Josh murmured, his voice trembling. “We’re taking him.”

Kyle nodded, his eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and something darker: greed. “And we’re going to keep taking until there’s nothing left.”

--

The whispers started first. Kyle noticed it in the cafeteria, the way people’s eyes lingered on him a little too long. Girls who’d never given him a second glance before were now giggling as he passed, their cheeks flushing. Guys he’d known for years clapped him on the back, commenting on how he’d “bulked up” since last semester. He’d just smile, shrugging it off, but inside, he felt a thrill. It wasn’t him—not really. It was Drake.

Josh, on the other hand, was less subtle. He caught himself accidentally flexing in the mirror more often, his reflection now more chiseled, more powerful than it had ever been. Even his walk had changed—a confident stride that made heads turn. But as they sat in their dorm room that evening, the weight of it all began to settle.

“People are starting to notice,” Josh said, his voice low as he stared at his hands. His fingers were thicker, stronger, veins subtly popping under the skin. “They’re asking questions. Did you see the way Coach looked at me during practice? Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.”

Kyle leaned back in his chair, his T-shirt stretched tight over his chest. He’d gone up a size, and the fabric clung to his new muscles in a way that felt both foreign and intoxicating. “Yeah,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair—fuller, thicker now. “But what can we do? We can’t just stop. Not when it feels this good.”

Josh’s eyes flicked to Drake, who was sprawled on his bed, scrolling through his phone. The once-buff jock looked... smaller somehow. His shoulders weren’t as broad, his arms not as defined. Even his usual cocky grin seemed weaker, less sure.

“He’s not as strong as he used to be,” Josh murmured, glancing at Kyle. “Do you think he knows?”

Kyle smirked, a dark glint in his eye. “Does it matter? He’s still got plenty left to give. And we need it. I need it.”

The air between them thickened with unspoken hunger. They’d been feeding off Drake passively for weeks, but now, the thought of taking more—taking it all—was irresistible.

That night, when the dorm was quiet and Drake’s breathing had evened out into sleep, Kyle and Josh exchanged a look. No words were needed. They moved silently, their shared desire a tangible force as they crept toward Drake’s bed.

Josh was first, slipping under the covers, his body pressing against Drake’s. The jock stirred but didn’t wake, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Kyle joined moments later, his own body molding against Drake’s other side. Their hands began to move, almost of their own accord, skimming over Drake’s skin.

It was easy, too easy, to feel the power thrumming beneath their fingers. Drake’s vitality, his strength, his everything, was right there for the taking. Kyle’s hand found Drake’s bicep, and he could feel the muscle there, still impressive but softer now, as though it had been hollowed out. He squeezed, and a rush of energy surged through him, his own arm tensing, growing more defined.

Josh’s breath hitched as he pressed his hand to Drake’s chest, feeling the once-firm pectorals yield under his touch. He could feel the transfer, the shift of power from Drake to him. His own chest swelled, his abs tightening as though he’d just finished a grueling workout.

“He’s weaker,” Josh whispered, his voice trembling with awe and lust. “Can you feel it?”

Kyle nodded, his other hand sliding lower, tracing the lines of Drake’s abs. They were still there, just barely, but barely was enough. As his fingers brushed the skin, he felt the familiar rush, the way his own torso hardened, his muscles becoming more pronounced.

But it wasn’t just the muscles. Kyle’s hand drifted lower still, and he felt the unmistakable stirring in his own pants as he palmed Drake through his boxers. Drake’s cock was still impressive, but it was... off. Smaller. Softer. Kyle’s own erection strained against his jeans, thicker, longer, and impossibly hard.

“God, look at you,” Josh breathed, his hand moving to Kyle’s fly. He unzipped it carefully, pulling out Kyle’s cock and stroking it with a reverence that made Kyle’s breath catch. “Do you see this? It’s... it’s huge.”

Kyle stared down, his heart pounding. His cock was a monster, thick and veiny, curving upward with an almost predatory grace. He’d always been average before, but now? Now he was something else entirely.

“It’s not just me,” Kyle muttered, his voice rough as he reached for Josh’s pants. He freed Josh’s cock, and they both stared in stunned silence. Josh was just as big, just as imposing, their twin erections a testament to what they’d taken from Drake.

“We’re... we’re gods,” Josh whispered, his hand wrapping around his own cock, stroking it slowly. “Look at us. Look at what we’ve become.”

Kyle couldn’t argue. He couldn’t even speak. He just watched as Josh’s hand moved, his own fingers joining the rhythm, their cocks throbbing in unison. They were stealing from Drake, yes, but in that moment, it felt less like theft and more like destiny.

Drake mumbled something in his sleep, his body twitching weakly, but neither Kyle nor Josh paid him any mind. They were too focused on themselves, on their own transformation.

“I... need more man” Kyle moaned.

Kyle’s breath quickened as he yanked Drake’s trousers down, exposing the jock’s firm, rounded ass. His eyes raked over the muscle and skin, now trembling slightly from the energy they’d already drained. Drake’s body was still taut, but there was a vulnerability to it now—a weakness that made Kyle’s cock throb even harder. Without waiting for Josh to react, Kyle spat into his palm and stroked his own massive shaft, the precum already beading at the tip. It glistened in the dim light, a testament to the power coursing through him.

God, I need this, Kyle thought as he positioned himself behind Drake. He pressed the swollen, spongy head of his cock against Drake’s tight hole, feeling the resistance give way as he pushed forward. Drake stirred in his sleep, a faint groan escaping his lips, but Kyle didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The heat of Drake’s body enveloped him, and with each inch he sank in, the drain intensified. It wasn’t just energy—it was something deeper that made Kyle’s vision blur with pleasure.

Josh watched, transfixed, as Kyle’s muscles seemed to ripple with every thrust, growing even more defined. The transfer was palpable, Drake’s strength flowing into Kyle in waves. Josh couldn’t resist; he reached out and gripped Drake’s shoulder, feeling the jock’s vitality slip away as Kyle took what he wanted. Drake’s once-chiseled body was softening under their touch, and the power they gained was intoxicating.

Kyle’s hips moved with slow, deliberate force, each stroke driving him deeper into Drake. The sensation was overwhelming—the tightness, the heat, and the rush of stolen strength all blending into a singular, all-consuming need. Drake’s ass clenched involuntarily, and Kyle groaned, his cock swelling even thicker inside him. He could feel the drain intensifying, his own body growing stronger, more dominant, as Drake’s weakened beneath him.

“Fuck… this is it,” Kyle panted, his voice guttural as he gripped Drake’s hips, pulling him closer. “He’s giving everything to me.”

Josh’s hand moved to his own cock, stroking in time with Kyle’s thrusts. He could feel the energy in the room, the shift of power that left them both breathless. Drake was fading—they could feel it—but the hunger inside them was only growing. And as Kyle drove deeper, they both knew there would be others. Others who could give them what they craved. And as they lay there, their bodies thrumming with stolen strength, they couldn’t help but wonder... how far could they go? How much could they take?

The need to leech was insatiable.

[jakester15100]

Can you turn Derek of teen wolf into a gym bro? Or a military?

Derek Hale -> Gym Bro

Hearing about a popular gym, Derek decided to check it out, however, when he got there, he discovered a pair of red shorts that held the scent of Stiles.

Picking them up, all he could smell was Stiles, which was impossible. Stile wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. And yet...

Not noticing how they're enchanted to make the holder want to put them on and how putting them on drains their IQ for pure muscle gains.

Before he's able to take them off again, the testosterone's flowing and he's bulking up like he's never done before.

Now he's a fellow gym bro, realising they're his shorts all along and that he should bring Stiles there for his own work out and indoctrination into the bro-hood.

[jakester15100]

Be Careful What You Wish For

"God I wish I wasn't doing this shit anymore with this AI bullshit..."

Professor Lawrence was sick and tired of his job. He was sick and tired of the long hours. He was sick and tired of the failing students. He was sick and tired of the lousy pay. But most of all he was sick and tired of the AI.

It had only been a month into the new semester, early in October but he couldn't take it anymore.

He swore that ever since all these stupid chatbots, AI assistants and whatever else started coming out, it had made a job that was stressful but bearable just stressful. Now he couldn't even use his own passion for teaching as an excuse. After all, what the hell was the point of teaching if all his students could just put any test answer or essay question in a chatbot and then suddenly it would pop out an answer? He thought he was shaping the next generation but it felt more like trying to toss water out of a sinking ship.

It was one of those evenings, where the heat was unbearable and the day was stressful and every minor inconvenience that could have happened just did. Whether it was a shirt being caught on a doorknob or a trip in front of the entire lecture hall of students, mumble over his words or spill coffee on his laptop. Thankfully, after trying to boot it up for another hour, it finally loaded.

"Thank fuck, let's see what I missed..."

Lawrence wasn't sure he was going to miss much. After all, he had just given his students an assignment, a simple essay to talk about the transformation in Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. It was an easy book especially for some college seniors and the essay itself was a laughable 3000 words minimum. He was sure that there was no way someone was going to use AI but of course, when the first few essays were submitted later that evening, he had the uneasy feeling it was used.

It...perhaps didn't help that shortly before the coffee spilled over his laptop...there was a reason for it. He was madly typing in his office, lecturing a student over email that just because they might find an essay hard, there was no way that it should allow them to use AI and he was going to fail them. But it devolved further and further into a rant about AI.

That's when all his frustration made him knock over some coffee he was drinking even when it was later into the evening and things went from bad to worse.

As soon as his laptop booted up again, he checked his emails. The student had replied.

Dear Professor,

Hey professor look i get what you're saying and all that but trust me AI is a tool just like spellcheck or google it's really not that bad. i think it's just a new way of students doing things and im sorry if it made you mad. but i really think you could benefit from it or give it a try please?

heres some ai stuff you might like.

from jacob

This prompt has been rewritten to be a lot more casual and calm compared to the original message!

Oh for fuck's sake.

He even left in the part from the AI bot where they talked about how much they had to rewrite his own goddamn email.

Ugh.

However, there was at least one genuine part of the email. There were attatchments, links at the bottom which pointed to different kinds of AI bots. Only one was in bold though.

AI RP. Get what you want.

The hell did that mean? AI RP? As in roleplay? He could maybe understand why someone would use an AI bot for writing an essay, but how would someone use it for roleplay? Still, curiosity caught the cat and Professor Lawrence clicked it, greeted to a bright white page with a shifting logo of a spiral and bold text which read:

Wish Bot.

There was more text at the bottom of the search bar

Create or play scenarios to live out your fantasies. Make a wish.

That's when Professor Lawrence had groaned and said those infamous words: "God I wish I wasn't doing this shit anymore with this AI bullshit..."

He just never noticed until a ping that his mic had been on. The text was perfectly transcribed as he blinked his eyes open and looked at the screen.

You wish for...a different life. Wish granted. Prompt generating...

You are...Professor Lawrence...You are 36 years old...You are a Professor of Creative Writing at Beaufort College,Massachusetts.

"The fuck?" Professor Lawrence blinked. How the hell did it know all this stuff? Was it just searching him up and getting all his information from the college website or something?

Your new life will be...

College Senior.

"Uh as if," Professor Lawrence scoffed. There was no way, even with some written passage about what his life would be that he'd be-

Your cock will grow to eight inches.

"What the he- OHHHHHHHFFGHHHH!"

There was a sudden wet slurping coming from Professor Lawrence's cock as he suddenly felt it churning. As if it was made of clay with invisible hands playing at it, the cock had suddenly began to start growing. He could feel two hands rubbing it, stretching it, making it grow slicker and bigger as it was wet with sweat and pre-cum as the cock continued to churn and grow. The changes were drifting down toward his balls where the same change was happening, his own balls growing heavier with a younger, more virile seed that his body hadn't felt in nearly a decade and a half at least as he leaned back.

"N-No"-" Professor Lawrence tried to reach out to the computer, to type something, to get rid of the window screen. But then he felt the next jolt of pleasure.

You remember...college girls and guys sucking your cock...

"W-Wait, guys? But I'm not gaaahhhohhhhffckk-"

But then he suddenly got memories of a young hot roommate reaching between his legs, spreading them apart and he could feel their hot warm mouth around his cock. As they continued to suck and grow, it was as if they were draining all of Lawrence's intellect and memories as he could feel more changes pushing their way through his body, making room in the space that his old memories and IQ once took place.

Your ass...is so well toned...

The reality shifted again as his ass started to grow in his own seat, making it inflate as he wondered just how good it might feel to have someone in his ass. N-No, he thought. He had girlfriends and he was...divorced, wasn't he? Divorced...at his age? He was only 21, about to turn 22 that year, and there was no way a guy that young could be married and divorced already, he thought. He swore the new thoughts were in a deeper voice that started to match the tone of his new moans as the AI continued to dictate the changes.

Your feet...are huge and musky...

And they were. Fuck, he had never been into feet before but the jock guys had such wide big feet and he coudln't get the thought of him worshipping the soles and taking the toes into his mouth or sniffing their sneakers out of his mind. All of it made him blush with embarrassment and arousal as the previously straight professor continued to feel himself getting hard and leaking over thoughts of being with guys.

Meanwhile, his own feet were getting more musky and manly. As the toes began to press against the tops of his scuffed loafers before suddenly-

A loud and long burst pierced the air as his toes from both feet finally pushed, and the shoes gave in to the pressure at once. His soles continued to thicken and grow, lengthening and pushing out as there was a sensitivity to them. He could imagine his feet getting sweaty from all the sports he was playing and time at the gym, just another host of new memories that were filling Lawrence's mind as his thicker ass finished rounding out and growing in his seat. Blonde hairs started to grow at the inflated cheeks whilst his own musky large and fair feet had finally broken off the rest of the shoes, the scraps turning into sandals.

Your muscles are just so big bro...

"F-Fuck oh fufgcvkk n-no moreeee-" Lawrence whined as he tried to fight his hands urge to take off his glasses. But the growing hands seized control as the glasses came off, and as they did, he swore his eyesight was already starting to look a lot less blurry as if his vision was being restored. But he grimaced and shut his eyes again as his hands managed to get back under his control. He kept ahold of the glasses, as if keeping some sort of artifact of his life would make him resist whatever these changes were.

The pleasure was almost mind breaking, the sensation of the flared head of his new cock being teased. It had genuineyl felt like an entirely new appendage with all the feelings of having never been touched before, the high sensitivity and the massive amount of cum that was churning in his heavy large balls. The more he resisted the urge to cum, the more his muscles began to grow.

Much like his body was a balloon of sorts, his mind became split between resisting the urge to cum so as not to gvie in and resisting the urge to cum to grow bigger. He could feel his biceps tense and inflate, thickening as the muscles split and repaired and split again creating a heat and stinging pain that mingled with the pleasure and almost like it was some sort of BDSM, the pain felt good.

Lawrence's arms had never been so muscular or strong in his life, as years of basketball practice and football started to spark in his mind over studying and years of lectures. As he forgot about his planned lecture for tomorrow's lesson, he remembered a basketball game with his bros yesterday and the locker room where he stripped to reveal his more muscular body.

All the while his mind was splitting like the fabric that was containing his newfound muscle, tearing apart at the sleeves as the buttons of his shirt were popping one by one. Each pop was accompanied by a moan and wave of pleasure, his voice growing almost louder and higher as his cock continued to throb and the flared tip of the head tingled and leaked more. He swore one brush against the opening would make him cum but he could barely move his hands, still barely able to hold onto his glasses even.

His pecs were next, beginning to inflate and grow so large that they almost felt like a pair of tits sprouting on his chest. Lawrence's new bisexuality, made him enjoy playing with them and his erect nipples all the same, moaning loudly and blushing at how wet he was getting. They may as well had been a pair of tits on his chest because from how high pitched his moaning had become and the wetness drooling from the cock between his legs, he felt almost as if the bot could somehow turn him into a woman.

But then from his very own touch, he could feel the pecs lose some of that mass, hardening and pulling more taut to his own chest as hairs that he couldn't grow before started to sprout. They still weren''t much and hard to see with how blonde they were but what could definitely be seen were his abs. No longer subject to a pot belly from years of takeout and lack of excercise, the fat sucked and schlorped in wetly before the mass was mostly converted to muscle. A hard set of abs formed out of the stomach and he could imagine how good it would feel to be such a slow off, such a slut and wear crop tops or flash his abs.

All that was left to change as his back stretched because...

You were 5'9...160 pounds...23% body fat

You are now 6'1...177 pounds...12% body fat

There was his face.

By then the hands were too large and too calloused, masculine, new to still be under his control and they tossed the glasses away.

As Lawrence felt himself give more into the pressure, the pleasure, as his beard started to sink away. His receding hairline inched forward until it looked better, more youthful for his face where wrinkles and eyebags no longer existed. He had the energy to party hard, do all nighters, play his sports, not fall victim to the visual indicators of years of stress.

But most of all his face wasn't just growing younger. It was getting different. His facial structure was rearranging as he could hear the bones shifting beneath the skin, feel his jaw click before it suddenly grew a lot more chiselled, even sharper without a beard. The skin itself had grown smooth, no longer subject to various scars, acne, blackheads or more. Instead his (mostly) healthy lifestyle and a surplus of good genes had left his skin looking smooth on the visage of a model. His lips grew more plump, perfect for the himbo that he was, a mouth of white teeth and cocky lines he was more than cute enough to get away with. Even if it cost him some of his IQ that was leaking out of his wet cock that was pooling all across the floor, it was just too much to give up.

His hair spiked blonde, toussled in a kind of haircut he hadn't had in years, not since...

"Ohhh- Oh fuck...Ohhh godssdh n-no not...there...oh my god...Oh. My. God. I'm gonna cum...oh fuck I'm gonna cum so much I- I can't ohhh fu-fuck feel so good please I'm gonna cum, wanna cum, I wanna cum so bad, oh my god I'm gonna-" His voice had become high pitched, whiney and perfect for the hot slut he was as the last of Professor Lawrence's intellect realised exactly what was happening. He wasn't just getting the body of a college senior. He was getting back to being a college senior, to his senior year, back in 2010, back before AI...so back before the chat doing this even existed, meaning...

He didn't know what it meant.

All he knew what to do.

What he wanted to do.

All he knew is.

He really.

Really.

Wanted.

To.

Cum.

Thick ribbons of cum shot out of Lawrence's wet throbbing cock spilling his seed, his intellect, his memories, his reality all over the floor for it to start fading away much like so many things around and a part of him. All he could do was let himself throb, lean back and continue to cum again and again and again each throb, each cum, each wave of orgasm and pleasure setting him back a year from 2025...a few more to 2020...then once to 20119...a big orgasm that seemed mingled together set back all the way to 2015 and on and on and on as he continued to feel like he was cumming out his brains.

Perhaps because that's exactly what he was doing.

When he tried to open his eyes, only one eye opened, half-lidded, twitching, cumming again and again as the pleasure pulsed through him and like a raucous wave within just washed everything away like a tidal wave coming to just consume anything in its wake. All he could do was let it consume and let it out as he shook so much in his chair from the spasms of pleasure it was no wonder he didn't fall out as his naked hot self continued to cum again and again and again...

Until he woke up.

"Mmm fuck dude, that was so fucking hot..." It was hard to be a guy into guys, even if it was 2010 as his new iPhone 4 said, October 11th to be exact. He licked his pretty lips, grunting and groaning as he tossed the Kleenex he shot in right into a dustbin to be emptied out later. He quickly opened his webcam, checking himself out to make sure he still looked okay and not too dishevelled. It was weird, Landon couldn't even remember much of his day, but then again it was 10 in the morning, so not like he woke up that much earlier. "Looking good as always."

Landon chuckled as he checked himself out in the webcam, unable to help but bounce his pecs a little as he relaxed and got up, somehow forgetting he missed 9AM lecture but remembering enough that he had a basketball game with some friends in an hour.

Eh it's not that it mattered much. After all, with little to no responsibilities, classes he could skip whenever, all access to the gym and a bunch of bros, who would wish for anything else?

Well, he guessed the professors would but that's exactly why he wasn't one.

Thanks for reading! To read more stories like this featuring transformation and hypnosis, then check them out here!

[jakester15100]

Parasite Bros

The dorm room was always too small for the three of them, but it wasn’t the cramped space that made Kyle and Josh exchange knowing glances every time Drake walked in.

It was the energy that radiated off him, so palpable it was almost dizzying. Drake was everything they weren’t—confident, muscular, effortlessly charming. He strutted around the room as if it belonged to him, his biceps flexing with every move, his voice dripping with that alpha male swagger that made people either hate him or want to be him. Kyle and Josh? They wanted to take him.

It started small, almost imperceptible. A flicker of warmth when Drake brushed past them, a subtle shift in the air when he laughed too loud. Kyle first noticed it one morning after Drake had spent the night out partying. The guy looked a little less... bright. His tan seemed duller, his usual cocky grin softer, almost forced. Meanwhile, Kyle caught his reflection in the mirror and paused. His cheekbones looked sharper, his jawline more defined. He glanced at Josh, who was staring at him with the same dawning realization.

“Do you feel it too?” Josh asked, his voice low, almost reverent.

Kyle nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the mirror. Something was happening, something they couldn’t explain but couldn’t deny either. It wasn’t just Drake’s fading vitality. It was the way they were changing, growing. Their muscles felt firmer, their skin clearer, their confidence surging. It was like they were absorbing bits of Drake, piece by piece.

By the end of the week, the changes were undeniable. Drake, who usually dominated the room, seemed quieter, smaller. His once-broad shoulders slumped slightly, his voice less commanding. Meanwhile, Kyle and Josh were thriving. They moved with a newfound grace, their bodies filling out, their energy palpable. It was intoxicating, this power they had over him, this hunger they couldn’t ignore.

“He doesn’t even realize it,” Josh murmured one evening as they watched Drake fumble with his phone, his usual swagger replaced with a quiet frustration. “It’s like he’s... dimming.”

“And we’re glowing,” Kyle added, a sly smile tugging at his lips. He flexed his arm, marveling at the way his bicep strained against his sleeve. It was more defined than it had been last week, more like Drake’s. But not just his muscles—his confidence, his presence, it was all growing, feeding off whatever they were leaching from their roommate.

The first time they realized they were stealing more than just his vitality was after a particularly long night of drinking. Drake had passed out early, his usual bravado drowned in tequila. Kyle and Josh stayed up, their bodies humming with restless energy. They sat on the floor, leaning against each other, their breathing synced in a way that felt almost primal.

“Do you feel it?” Kyle asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t need to elaborate. Josh knew exactly what he meant.

“Yeah,” Josh replied, his hand instinctively moving to his chest. His heart was pounding, his body warm, almost electric. It wasn’t just energy they were drawing from Drake anymore. It was something deeper, something essential. They could feel it coursing through them, reshaping them, making them stronger, bolder, more.

The next morning, Drake looked worse than ever. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, his usual arrogance replaced with a hollow emptiness. He barely spoke as he shuffled to the bathroom, his movements sluggish, almost pained. Kyle and Josh exchanged a glance, their eyes gleaming with a hunger they couldn’t—and didn’t want to—control.

“We should stop,” Josh said later, his voice trembling with a mix of guilt and desire. But even as he said it, he knew he didn’t mean it. The sensation was too addictive, too right. It was like they were meant to do this, like they’d been starving their whole lives without even realizing it.

“We can’t,” Kyle replied, his tone firm but soft, almost comforting. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Josh’s arm. The contact sent a shiver through both of them, their connection growing stronger with every touch. “It’s not just about us anymore. It’s about him. He needs us as much as we need him.”

Josh looked at him, his eyes searching for any sign of doubt. But there was none. Kyle’s gaze was steady, his conviction unshakable. They were in this together, bound by something they couldn’t explain but couldn’t escape either.

As the days passed, the changes became impossible to ignore. Drake’s once-ripped physique softened, his muscles shrinking, his energy fading. His voice, once strong and commanding, grew quieter, his laughter less frequent. Meanwhile, Kyle and Josh blossomed. Their bodies grew leaner, more defined, their confidence radiating like a force field. They walked taller, their movements fluid, their presence magnetic. It was power, pure and unfiltered, and they reveled in it.

One night, after another long day of classes, they found themselves alone in the dorm. Drake had gone out, his energy so depleted he barely managed a goodbye. Kyle and Josh sat on their beds, the air between them charged with an intensity they could no longer ignore.

“Do you think he knows?” Josh asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at Kyle, his eyes dark with a mix of guilt and need.

“No,” Kyle replied, his tone calm but firm. He leaned forward, his gaze locking with Josh’s. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re not hurting him. We’re just... taking what he doesn’t need.”

Josh hesitated, his throat tightening. It wasn’t that simple, and he knew it. But the hunger, the need, it drowned out the guilt, leaving only desire. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Kyle’s hand. The contact sent a shock through both of them, their connection deepening, their hunger growing.

“We’re not just taking his energy,” Josh murmured, his voice trembling. “We’re taking him.”

Kyle nodded, his eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and something darker: greed. “And we’re going to keep taking until there’s nothing left.”

--

The whispers started first. Kyle noticed it in the cafeteria, the way people’s eyes lingered on him a little too long. Girls who’d never given him a second glance before were now giggling as he passed, their cheeks flushing. Guys he’d known for years clapped him on the back, commenting on how he’d “bulked up” since last semester. He’d just smile, shrugging it off, but inside, he felt a thrill. It wasn’t him—not really. It was Drake.

Josh, on the other hand, was less subtle. He caught himself accidentally flexing in the mirror more often, his reflection now more chiseled, more powerful than it had ever been. Even his walk had changed—a confident stride that made heads turn. But as they sat in their dorm room that evening, the weight of it all began to settle.

“People are starting to notice,” Josh said, his voice low as he stared at his hands. His fingers were thicker, stronger, veins subtly popping under the skin. “They’re asking questions. Did you see the way Coach looked at me during practice? Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.”

Kyle leaned back in his chair, his T-shirt stretched tight over his chest. He’d gone up a size, and the fabric clung to his new muscles in a way that felt both foreign and intoxicating. “Yeah,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair—fuller, thicker now. “But what can we do? We can’t just stop. Not when it feels this good.”

Josh’s eyes flicked to Drake, who was sprawled on his bed, scrolling through his phone. The once-buff jock looked... smaller somehow. His shoulders weren’t as broad, his arms not as defined. Even his usual cocky grin seemed weaker, less sure.

“He’s not as strong as he used to be,” Josh murmured, glancing at Kyle. “Do you think he knows?”

Kyle smirked, a dark glint in his eye. “Does it matter? He’s still got plenty left to give. And we need it. I need it.”

The air between them thickened with unspoken hunger. They’d been feeding off Drake passively for weeks, but now, the thought of taking more—taking it all—was irresistible.

That night, when the dorm was quiet and Drake’s breathing had evened out into sleep, Kyle and Josh exchanged a look. No words were needed. They moved silently, their shared desire a tangible force as they crept toward Drake’s bed.

Josh was first, slipping under the covers, his body pressing against Drake’s. The jock stirred but didn’t wake, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Kyle joined moments later, his own body molding against Drake’s other side. Their hands began to move, almost of their own accord, skimming over Drake’s skin.

It was easy, too easy, to feel the power thrumming beneath their fingers. Drake’s vitality, his strength, his everything, was right there for the taking. Kyle’s hand found Drake’s bicep, and he could feel the muscle there, still impressive but softer now, as though it had been hollowed out. He squeezed, and a rush of energy surged through him, his own arm tensing, growing more defined.

Josh’s breath hitched as he pressed his hand to Drake’s chest, feeling the once-firm pectorals yield under his touch. He could feel the transfer, the shift of power from Drake to him. His own chest swelled, his abs tightening as though he’d just finished a grueling workout.

“He’s weaker,” Josh whispered, his voice trembling with awe and lust. “Can you feel it?”

Kyle nodded, his other hand sliding lower, tracing the lines of Drake’s abs. They were still there, just barely, but barely was enough. As his fingers brushed the skin, he felt the familiar rush, the way his own torso hardened, his muscles becoming more pronounced.

But it wasn’t just the muscles. Kyle’s hand drifted lower still, and he felt the unmistakable stirring in his own pants as he palmed Drake through his boxers. Drake’s cock was still impressive, but it was... off. Smaller. Softer. Kyle’s own erection strained against his jeans, thicker, longer, and impossibly hard.

“God, look at you,” Josh breathed, his hand moving to Kyle’s fly. He unzipped it carefully, pulling out Kyle’s cock and stroking it with a reverence that made Kyle’s breath catch. “Do you see this? It’s... it’s huge.”

Kyle stared down, his heart pounding. His cock was a monster, thick and veiny, curving upward with an almost predatory grace. He’d always been average before, but now? Now he was something else entirely.

“It’s not just me,” Kyle muttered, his voice rough as he reached for Josh’s pants. He freed Josh’s cock, and they both stared in stunned silence. Josh was just as big, just as imposing, their twin erections a testament to what they’d taken from Drake.

“We’re... we’re gods,” Josh whispered, his hand wrapping around his own cock, stroking it slowly. “Look at us. Look at what we’ve become.”

Kyle couldn’t argue. He couldn’t even speak. He just watched as Josh’s hand moved, his own fingers joining the rhythm, their cocks throbbing in unison. They were stealing from Drake, yes, but in that moment, it felt less like theft and more like destiny.

Drake mumbled something in his sleep, his body twitching weakly, but neither Kyle nor Josh paid him any mind. They were too focused on themselves, on their own transformation.

“I... need more man” Kyle moaned.

Kyle’s breath quickened as he yanked Drake’s trousers down, exposing the jock’s firm, rounded ass. His eyes raked over the muscle and skin, now trembling slightly from the energy they’d already drained. Drake’s body was still taut, but there was a vulnerability to it now—a weakness that made Kyle’s cock throb even harder. Without waiting for Josh to react, Kyle spat into his palm and stroked his own massive shaft, the precum already beading at the tip. It glistened in the dim light, a testament to the power coursing through him.

God, I need this, Kyle thought as he positioned himself behind Drake. He pressed the swollen, spongy head of his cock against Drake’s tight hole, feeling the resistance give way as he pushed forward. Drake stirred in his sleep, a faint groan escaping his lips, but Kyle didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The heat of Drake’s body enveloped him, and with each inch he sank in, the drain intensified. It wasn’t just energy—it was something deeper that made Kyle’s vision blur with pleasure.

Josh watched, transfixed, as Kyle’s muscles seemed to ripple with every thrust, growing even more defined. The transfer was palpable, Drake’s strength flowing into Kyle in waves. Josh couldn’t resist; he reached out and gripped Drake’s shoulder, feeling the jock’s vitality slip away as Kyle took what he wanted. Drake’s once-chiseled body was softening under their touch, and the power they gained was intoxicating.

Kyle’s hips moved with slow, deliberate force, each stroke driving him deeper into Drake. The sensation was overwhelming—the tightness, the heat, and the rush of stolen strength all blending into a singular, all-consuming need. Drake’s ass clenched involuntarily, and Kyle groaned, his cock swelling even thicker inside him. He could feel the drain intensifying, his own body growing stronger, more dominant, as Drake’s weakened beneath him.

“Fuck… this is it,” Kyle panted, his voice guttural as he gripped Drake’s hips, pulling him closer. “He’s giving everything to me.”

Josh’s hand moved to his own cock, stroking in time with Kyle’s thrusts. He could feel the energy in the room, the shift of power that left them both breathless. Drake was fading—they could feel it—but the hunger inside them was only growing. And as Kyle drove deeper, they both knew there would be others. Others who could give them what they craved. And as they lay there, their bodies thrumming with stolen strength, they couldn’t help but wonder... how far could they go? How much could they take?

The need to leech was insatiable.

[jakester15100]

[jakester15100]

le dessert

[jakester15100]

Julian Arroyuelo

[jakester15100]

[jakester15100]

[jakester15100]

[jakester15100]

[jakester15100]

Coach's favorite jock

There's a knock on my door. I don't usually get visitors on Saturday evenings, so I'd planned to spend the night working on plays in my office. But when I found Will standing in front of my office, I wasn't surprised.

Will's the best player on our team. He's O-line, so he doesn't get much credit for our wins, but I know how it actually works. I know how important he is. A huge wall of a man, 7 foot tall, 370 lbs at his last weigh-in, and he knows to use that size. Built like a bear and moves like a tiger.

"What'you doing bothering an old man on a Saturday night, Will? Don't you have something more fun to be doing."

"You're not that old," Will says. "And, I thought you'd be proud that I'm not getting wasted at a party."

"Fair point," I concede, letting him in.

Will doesn't usually come here on Saturday nights. But he's still a regular late-night visitor at my office.

"My belly's gotten bigger," Will says, putting a hand his paunch.

"I know," I chuckle. Will's shirt is tight around his gut. Rises up above his belly button. There's a slight overhang over his shorts, telling me it's empty, or at least not near full. Will's belly is big, these days, no two ways around it. It was flat when I first met him 4 years ago, but it certainly isn't now.

"The hungry's getting real intense lately," he says. "Wakes me up at night sometimes."

Will is now rubbing his belly.

"I hope you're not letting it bother your sleep," I say. I offer him a seat on the couch. I keep a large couch in my office, that often doubles as a bed on these late nights.

"I try and keep it under control. You know, coach, I was out with the boys, tonight?"

"And why'd you leave them to go talk to your grumpy old coach?"

"I didn't leave them, we just decided to call it early. They're still tired after last game, and we got kicked out of Tonio's pizza again."

"Again?"

"Yeah. I mean, it was a busy night for him, and Blake looked like he was about to hurl," Will explained, his belly bulging as he sitsback. "How much pizza do you think I had?"

I take a moment. Will's belly is big, as I said, and if my linemen got kicked out for overeating I can't imagine he was holding back, but his belly is obviously not full, nor even at half capacity.

"About 3 large pizzas?"

"4. Downed some leftovers too," he says, with obvious pride as he rubs his belly. "And I'm still not full."

"You're not." Probably not even half full, which is both impressive and scary.

"Don't you think it's crazy, coach? When I was a freshman I remember feeling like the baddest guy ever because I could eat 3 large pizzas, and I wasn't always able to keep it down back then."

"I need my linemen as big as possible, and you can't have a big guy without a big stomach," I say. "Also, I was under the impression you liked the extra capacity. And not just because it helps us win games. The extra size, the extra muscle mass you're able to fuel. And that's not getting into all the times it's given you the edge in challenges I'm better not knowing about."

He smiles. Leans back, flexes his two gigantic arms, then slaps his tank of a belly. I heard a loud slosh, a huge volume of food moving in an even bigger stomach.

"I love it, coach. But I've never forgotten those days when I thought I was big and you taught me how wrong I was. I'll always remember that lesson you taught me. That no matter how good I am at something, I should always aim to be better."

He sits up. I know where this is going.

"I want you to fill me up, coach," Will says, suddenly staring right into my eyes. "I want you to push me to the absolute limit. I want you to stuff my gut until it hurts."

I grin. "Do you?"

"I want it to be just like the old days, coach. I want you to fill me up so hard I'm freaking out and begging you not to burst my belly."

What follows is something we're both familiar with. I keep my office fridge stacked with shakes and milk, and there's a few funnels in my cupboards, like those the fraternity brothers use in their parties. By the time I come back with a few jugs and a funnel, he's already taken off his shirt. Will is very proud of his body and not afraid to show off. I've seen how he acts in the locker rooms. A huge powerful frame, with massive pecs, and of course the infamous belly.

I put a hand on his belly as he grabs the funnel. Each time Will is bigger than last time. A thin layer of blubber on top of powerful unflexed ab muscles, on top of the biggest human stomach I'm aware of. 

 I've coached many a football player with a big belly in my time, and never have I seen one capable of downing this much. I can feel the 4 large pizzas in there and I can tell they're not coming close to filling him up.

"You've been stretching out your stomach," I comment.

"Yeah. I do so most nights these days. Only way to keep the hungry in check, and I sleep better when it's full. But it's not the same when it's not you doing it."

Will puts the funnel in his mouth, and I pour the first half-gallon jug down. It flows straight down the tube and into his belly, as if I were pouring it down the drain.

"Just a warmup", I say. He nods, as I grab the second half-gallon. Hoes down as easy as the first. His gut slowly edging up and out as he swallows.

There's now a full gallon of shake in his belly, on top of over 4 large pizzas. Somehow, this is just the beginning.

"Ready for the full gallon son?"

"Ready, coach. If anything it's made me even hungrier," he says, catching his breath after the first chug. "I wanna feel full."

And so I grab another half-gallon, and start to pour. Once it has emptied a bit, I put a hand on Will's belly. His gigantic stomach isn't even stretching yet, just filling up like a sac.

He burps when the jug is done. I could guess he forced it out for show with how not-full his belly felt, but it's the cocky grin that gives it away. So I give the paunch a slap. It sloshes, deeper and more muted than last time.

"Ouch!"

"Your belly still isn't full."

"I know coach! one and a half gallons of shake, 4 large pizzas and scraps, it's crazy, right?"

It is. It absolutely is.

"If your belly isn't full then you should keep chugging. This ain't gonna cut it, son."

I grab another half gallon; and he quickly puts the funnel back. He's used to me talking like this. Harkens back to the old days, when he was just a freshman with not enough mass but lots of potential.

"I need you as big as possible," I say as I start to pour. "This is an arms race we're in. Only way you can beat a 350 lbs guy slamming into you is by being a 400 lbs guy."

Will is easily going to be over 400 lbs once we're done for tonight, though not in playing form. Will sits back once the jug is done, the huge volume inside him making it impossible to lean forward or slouch. But there's a big grin on his face.

"Feels good?"

He nods. I can tell it feels good. The amounts he's consumed would be enough to burst just about anyone, but over the year's we've gotten his belly so big that it just feels comfortably full. The level of fullness that you'd like to have at the end of the day, that's bound to give you a good night's sleep.

"Then it's not enough. None of that feelgood bullshit here, I'm all about winning. And winning is tough. Winning hurts."

The next half gallon isn't as fast as the last few. His huge neck muscles have to work, and his huge belly is slowly but visibly inching up and out. There's now a big shelf under his pecs, and his belly button is about half as deep as when he got here. Giving it a rub, I can tell the huge volume is starting to tug at his stomach.

Once it's chugged, I give it a light slap. No slosh this time, but still some give. Reminds me of a beach ball after you've just inflated it. His belly has the size of a beach ball, too, but it's a lot heavier.

"Coach!" he says, as if suddenly woken up. The sheer weight of his stomach is starting to make him drowsy.

"Your belly can still hold more."

"There's so much shake in there..."

"Yes, there is. But I need there to be even more."

His powerful neck muscles are working hard to force the next gallon down. He's at that level of fullness where gravity alone isn't enough. Every gulp he swallows enters a tackle with the massive volume already inside him, pushing it down and out as it fills the top of his stomach. He shifts his back in the couch as he chugs, to relieve the pressure in his swelling belly.

We sit in silence once the jug is empty, Will panting from the effort. He opens his mouth to burp, but nothing comes out: there's no more gas in there, it's all solid and liquid.

"Coach... My belly... it's so big..."

"It's huge, son. But I don't care if you're big. I need you to be the biggest."

His eyes widen.

"I'm still shooting to get you at a playing weight of 400 lbs. With that size and your moves, you'll be unstoppable. A top draft pick. I want you to become a legend, son. And for that, we're gonna need a bigger belly."

I get up, and grab one last jug from my fridge.

"Please coach," he moans, every word taking considerable effort. "I don't want my belly to burst..."

This time, I do without the funnel. I sit down next to him, and put a hand on his rock hard gut. Slowly rubbing it, using the sweat from the heat of digestion like an oil. Starting at the top, at that huge shelf that juts out at a right angle from under his massive pecs. Moving to his right flank, where his belly has bowed out, like a sack of cement resting against a wall. Inching towards his underbelly, that by now is covering a large part of his tree trunk thighs.

"That should do it," I say.

I bring the jug up to his mouth, and very slowly start to pour. It shouldn't fit. Shouldn't possibly fit. There's three gallons of shake and an unholy amount of pizza in there. No belly was ever meant to hold that much. If it weren't for his powerful build he likely would have burst, and even with all that muscle mass, he shouldn't be able to keep it down. Coaches probably weren't meant to stuff their jocks this hard either. I have former linemen whose stomachs are so stretched out they're never going to be able to feel full after normal sized meals, and I never pushed any of them this far. I shouldn't be able to make anything else fit.

But it fits. I have to constantly rub the base of his paunch, and it takes the full power of all his throat muscles to get just one drop in, but it fits. Each gulp makes his stomach swell by an amount that's too small for the eye to see, but makes the pressure rise tenfold.

The empty jug hits the floor with a dull clunk. Will tilts his head back, resting it against the couch.

"My belly didn't burst."

He's so exhausted and stuffed he can barely talk, but beaming with pride nonetheless.

"I needed you bigger for the team. And I knew you'd be up to the task," I say. It's a shame Will isn't able to get up right now, because I'd be curious to see just how heavy he is right now. Easily over 400.

"I'm proud of you, Will."

I settle next to him, in a position that's comfortable for both of us. Keeping a hand on his paunch as he drifts away.

As with all our sessions, he will only have gained so much once it's all digested, but the stomach stretches add up. As his capacity increases, his appetite and therefore playing weight will naturally trend up. Who knows what unholy amounts his coaches will be able to fit inside him after he gets drafted. He's going to be another team's unsung hero, another coach's favorite jock.

But right now, he's falling asleep in my office, and he's going to need my help digesting all this.

[jakester15100]

The Influencer: Will (Part Two)

For part one: The Influencer : Milo

Words by @engeorged

Artwork by @badoobers

The previous 6 months had totally changed Milo’s life and his body. After his Mukbang video went viral, and following on from the success of his first TikTok live, his followers began to rack up. Soon he had successfully established accounts on TikTok, instagram and Twitter where he would upload daily content, doing lives twice a week on different social platforms. It wasn’t quite as glamorous as he thought it would be. There was a lot of research he needed to do, to learn eating tricks about how and when to eat. Methods to stretch his already considerable stomach capacity. He would force himself to drink gallons of isotonic drinks as quick as he could to get his belly to hold more and more. At first he could just about manage a gallon in less than half an hour. In no time at all he was able to do two gallons in less than fifteen minutes. The flat stomach rapidly becoming curved and bloated as he chugged. He’d never really had a gag reflex either which helped in more ways that one. He was taking to the rhythm quickly.

Pushing through the pain barrier if bloating with liquids was one thing, but the eating challenges were even less glamorous afterwards. At least with the liquids he would only have to go to the toilet every ten minutes for a few hours. But with the stuffing sessions, it was a lot more for his system to take and the side effects where pretty extreme. Firstly, digesting vast quantities of food made him very sleepy which meant he would often crash straight after, bloated and sticky. For another thing, eating a lot made him very very gassy. The added issue was the weight gain. He’d always been toned and buff and the sheer volume of calories he was consuming were making his weight skyrocket. He’d managed to gain 20lbs in just the first month, all of which stuck to his expanding middle as a firm curve to his toned stomach. By the third month it had slowed a little bit he was still up another 20lbs in total making him 255lbs. His height and muscle mass meant his body could easily take it but he was looking a lot thicker that normal. This wasn’t entirely a bad thing, as it actually seemed to go down pretty well with a number of his new fans, but Milo wasn’t so sure. So he started hitting the gym on a more regular basis to work on the muscle groups that wouldn’t interfere with his stomachs ability to expand. This felt like a happy medium.

The main perk was that now he’d worked how to monetise these social media ventures, he was finally able to quit the delivery job and the dog walking. He decided to keep the house sitting gig though, as the setting was part of his media presence and the non stop supply free food was also massively helpful.

After the first few months of being a social media influencer he was starting to be recognised in the street. Not many people but he was definitely starting to be somebody. His main accounts were all centered around Mukbang and eating challenges, This wasn’t his only online presence though as he also set up a few side accounts. One all around his workout regime where he would flaunt his muscles. There was also a very niche OnlyFans, where the crazy amount of gas he was getting was paying off. People would pay to watch him belch and fart whilst watching sports matches on the sofa in his boxer briefs. There was even a side hustle selling his underwear that featured in the videos. Who knew guys would pay for boxers he’d farted in?

Whilst he hadn’t quite shifted the extra few pounds, he’d managed to at least get more bulked elsewhere. His arms, pecs and thighs were the biggest they had ever been and whilst his stomach was no longer a flat six pack, he had managed to get the definition back on the curve of his belly.

Then one evening, Milo was just finishing off a live, having done a popular gravy chug challenge that was doing the rounds on socials. Most people were doing a few litres or even a gallon of gravy, but Milo knew he could do better than that. He had set himself up in the massive downstairs shower and had used a bier stick to push the gravy down his throat. At the end he proudly declared he had done a gallon and a half, having done eight sticks full. Everyone watching, gleefully pointed out that as the stick was a 40 oz stick, he had actually done 2 gallons! Laughing and belching he admitted defeat, maths had never been his strong point after all.

Turning the live off, he was now seriously regretting chugging fucking gravy! He didn’t even really like gravy and the belches coming up were heinous. He quickly turned on the shower to wash off the gravy that had spilt on himself. Rubbing his distended stomach as he cleaned himself had become a part of his routine he loved the most. Whilst he loved getting the attention from doing the streams, it was surprisingly nice to take a moment for himself. As his large hands glided over the firm curve of his bloated belly, he felt the ridges of his protruding muscle definition. Washing the underside of the curve and feeling his Adonis belt framing the bulge of liquid inside himself. Gently pushing on the taut surface and feeling the pressure of his full abdomen. Not for the first time, he began to feel his dick harden as he took time exploring his swollen middle. Closing his eyes he allowed his mind to drift as he began to pleasure himself, rubbing his firm gut with one hand and stroking his thick shaft with the other. Just as he was ready to climax, his phone rang, making him jump out of his skin. Scrabbling around fora towel he began to as he involuntarily jizz all over the walls of the shower.

Turning the water off, he quickly dried his hands and answered the phone. Trying to suppress the waves of pleasure he was experiencing he tried to give a happy ‘Hello!’ On the other end of the phone was Will, his old school friend asking if he was still interested in taking that job he’d offered him a few months back. He didn’t want to admit to Will but he’d totally forgotten about the job. He gently declined the job offer but asked Will how he was doing, he’d heard on the grapevine that Will had recently divorced so he asked how he was after that. Milo was just about to invite him out for a beer when Will reminded him that the school reunion was coming up that weekend and asked if he was going. Milo had stopped going to events like that. Everyone seemed to just be there to brag about their happy lives and their fancy cars and beautiful children and that just made him feel like a loser. But now, he wasn’t a loser, he was a success! Maybe he would go? After all he wasn’t doing anything else, and it would be good to see Will at least. They had been pretty tight when they were younger. Their friendship only really fading because Will had gotten his girlfriend pregnant and 19 and had gotten married. Kids ruined everything!

Milo agreed to go to the reunion and returned to the shower to clean up, finding himself hard yet again as he cleaned off his belly.

A Week Later . . .

After spending the whole morning getting ready Milo was ready to go. Pulling into the parking lot of the hotel in his brand new Tesla, Milo started feeling a little nervous. He was well liked in school, but so much had happened in the last ten years. In some ways, he was a different person and there were so many of his old friends who wouldn’t know him any more. As he got out of the car he straightened himself up and rearranged his very tight shirt. It used to be a good shirt to show off his muscles, it’s just that now it also accentuated his more curved meaty stomach. The buttons a lot tighter than they used to be.

Ignoring the uncomfortable sensation and walking up to the counter, Milo coughed to why the receptionists attention. Without looking up the guy responded disinterestedly with a quick’You here for the reunion?’ Milo replied to say yes when suddenly he hears a familiar voice behind him shout a nickname he’s not heard in years.

‘How’s it hanging Pipe?’

Turning round Milo sees his friend Will lumbering towards him with a huge grin on his face. Milo wasn’t quite expecting what happened next. Will was average height at 5’10, but he was always slim. He was known for it when they were younger. He would eat junk food constantly but would never gain a pound. That had definitely changed. Will had developed a huge round beer belly which was sticking out perpendicular to his body. The round mass of solid gut was at least a foot in front of him and almost a perfect sphere. His dense stubble and moustache was giving him strong daddy bear vibes.

‘Holy fuck it’s you!’ Milo blurred out as Will characteristically bundled over and pulled him in for a hug. Will’s belly was indeed as solid as it looked and nearly winded him as it was pushed hard into his own stomach.

‘It’s good to see you man!’ Will exclaimed as he pulled out of the hug. ‘You’ve hardly changed!’ He added looking Milo up and down.

Not really knowing what to say Milo eventually managed; ‘You neither?’ He couldn’t help but go up at the end of his sentence, making it more of a question than a statement.

Laughing, Will grabbed his solid belly with both hands. ‘Liar! I’m a blimp!’ He admitted! ‘It’s fine! We all knew it would catch up with me. Besides it’s been a rough few years. Me and Bex divorced last year as you know and I guess I’ve been eating a few too many take aways!’

‘Sorry to hear that man.’ Milo responded trying not to look at his mammoth belly.

‘It’s cool man. We’re still friends, we should never have married so young. We were good friends really, not husband and wife. Three kids later and there was nothing left. That, and she cheated on me with pretty much every single dad in the school run!’

‘Fuck her then man I guess!’ Milo offered

Laughing, Will slapped Milo on his thick arm ‘let’s get some food man! I’m starving!’

Walking through the hotel lobby, they found the party at the gardens in the back. The smell of cooking meat luring the two men through. Looking round, Milo saw a heap of faces he vaguely remembered. He always had his own group of friends but on the whole he never joined a clique so he was known by most people. He was the kind of guy who wanted to be everyone’s friend. He was quite the player when he was younger and looking around he realised he had slept with about 15 people that he could see. Mainly women back then, but there were a few guys who suddenly put an arm round their wives and girlfriends as he walked past.

The two old friends positioned themselves near the bbq and started catching up. Will explained that he was a fairly successful business man, owning a company that specialised in international shipping. From the sounds of things Will seemed to be doing pretty well for himself work wise. He was lonely though, marrying early and churning out three kids had isolated him from their old friends and he, like Will, hadn’t really seen anyone since they graduated.

As they stood catching up the two men were grazing heavily on ribs and burgers and sausages, absent-mindedly eating whilst they chatted. Milo realised half way, how much he’d missed his friend, and the resentment he felt over their falling apart was beginning to subside. Eventually they were joined by two more guys they used to hang out with, Ralphy and Jordan. These two had clearly stayed in touch with one another and were super happy to see Milo and Will.

Ralphy, used to be the runt of the group, being wiry and lithe with little to no facial hair. However, it appeared that he had exited the ugly duckling phase. Being tall, had had now bulked out and was now bordering on stocky. His once ginger hair and pasty complexion had developed into some deep auburn hair with a full lumberjack beard. ‘Finally hit puberty then?’ Will commented cheekily. Ralphy took it with good humour, and asked back ‘When are you due?’ Patting Will’s pregnant looking belly. Jordan was as good looking as ever, his dark brown skin, chiselled cheek bones and deep chocolate coloured eyes unchanged by the passage of time. Milo embarrassingly remembered the brief crush he had on his friend when they were younger. He never acted on it or even told Jordan at the time but it was pretty intense.

As the four old friends caught up, Will and Milo continued to attack the buffet almost continuously. Knocking beers back with casual abandon the lads got rowdier and rowdier. Half way through the evening, Will began to rub his belly, now tightening as he continues to fill it up. Letting out several loud belches, and to the surprise of no one he starts complaining about his belt being too tight and how his clothes have shrunk. Looking across at Milo he notices Milo has also begun to bloat out.

‘Hey, how have you eaten as much as me?’ Will blurted out

Milo blushes and rubs his front. ‘I guess I have!’ Weirdly, he is actually is beginning to enjoy people noticing his belly.

‘What are you doing with yourself at the moment anyway Pipe? You never did settle on a job if I hear correctly?’ Ralphy asked.

‘Funny you should say that man! I’ve started a new career recently!’

Milo smiled and produces his phone. Pulling up one of his most successful videos where he speed eats four large watermelons he turns it and shows his friends.

Jordan whistles ‘You’re getting paid to pig out? That should be Will’s job!’

Will belly barges Jordan who nearly spills his beer. Laughing they carry on their conversation. Milo explains all about how he was trying to make it a social media influencer and how a random video he had made had gone viral. He talked through his training routine and how he worked out key muscle groups in order to maximise room for expansion. The guys nodding along as he speaks.

‘So you mean to tell me, a skinny thing like you, thinks he could fit more in his tank than me?’ Will scoffed slapping his already stuffed tank of a belly.

Smiling Milo says ‘Yeah that’s pretty much right! Follow me for the proof if you want!

Will dramatically begins sniffing the air. ‘Can you guys smell that?’

Jordan, naively begins sniffing along with him. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s quite rich? Smells to me like BULLSHIT!’ Will laughs loudly at his own joke. Jordan and Ralphy join in. Milo stays straight faced.

‘Right here then?’ Milo says defiantly. ‘Eat-off. Loser takes the winner out for dinner next week at a restaurant of their choosing.’

Will still laughing, thrusts out his hand. ‘Let’s make it more interesting! If you win, I’ll take you Dubai on my next business trip. All expenses paid.’

Milo grabs his hand and shakes it. ‘Deal!’ A thought enters Milos mind about whether or not to live stream it? He’s not due for a live stream till tomorrow but an unscheduled post might go down well. He’s confident he can win. Doing his research into the world of competitive eating and other social media stars who do this kind of thing, he’s spotted a trend. Guys who are on the larger side tend to not do as well as the more toned ones. In fact, his biggest online role model has been an Indian guy called Jai who goes round the world doing food challenges on cam. He can pack away a ton of food and his flat stomach goes from toned to fully round. If he’s honest, Jai has been the biggest inspiration for most of his wanks over the past month as well. Not only is Jai insanely hot, the sight of his swollen belly keeps sending Milo over the edge.

He grabs a standing table and runs to the buffet with Ralphy where they pile two plates high with identical hauls. Trying to grab one of each of the delicious items on display. Balancing their heavy plates they place them on the table. ‘It’s better to do this standing!’ Milo tells Will confidently. He hands his phone to Jordan and asks him to hit record. ‘I’m gonna live stream this man. Hope that ok!’ He adds quickly.

‘Well I’m sure your followers want to see you lose just as much as I do!’ Will boasts

‘I got that!’ Jordan shouts laughing as he sees the screen begin to light up as watchers begin to pour in. Milo turns to the camera and welcomes everyone, explaining the bet and how he’s gonna kick Will’s ass. The two of them line up. Both already full of beer and meat from nearly an hour and a half of grazing and chatting. Will’s stomach hardly looks any different, only the discerning eye would have noticed that it has lost some of its jiggle. Milo on the other hand is clearly already stuffed. His already tight shirt stretched tightly over his swelling out stomach.

‘Ready?’ Milo asks

‘Born ready!’ Will replies.

‘Then go!’ Milo yells.

As the two tear into their plates of food, both picking up a huge double burger, dripping in bbq sauce and cheese, they begin their task. A few people begin to notice the commotion and a few start to amble over. Ralphy is keen to explain what’s happening and people begin to pick a side and cheer them on. As per his brand, Milo seems to be eating with a strong constant rhythm, taking a large bite and chewing well before swallowing. Whereas Will is just gorging himself. Massive dripping burger in one hand and a chicken leg in the other. By the time Milo has finished his burger Will has eaten three things. Unphased, Milo picks up a thick German sausage in a bun, glazed with honey and mustard and starts to eat. He did a video a few weeks back where he tried to match the world record of hot dog eating so he was used to hot dogs, and this one was much tastier than the shitty ones he’d bought for the challenge. These were prime cuts of pork, the ones he had were just ‘arseholes, hooves and lips’ as his brother would say.

Milo was starting to feel the now familiar sensation of getting to the point where his stomach was feeling the strain. He was only two items into the feast and already he could feel his belly tightening. There was a lot of food and beer in his stomach already. The shirt had definitely been a mistake. As he finished the sausage, he reached for a thick chicken kebab and with the other hand undid his belt and untucked his shirt. That helped as he kept going, his belly expanding into the space created.

Will’s mad dash strategy on the other hand was beginning to backfire. He was feeling totally stuffed. The comfortably full feeling he’d had at the start was starting to be replaced with a dull ache of gluttony. He was struggling to breathe a little bit with the pressure building up under his ribs. Looking across at Milo who was calmly chewing and swallowing down the food he began to regret the bravado. He gave his tight belly rub and ploughed on.

The crowd was beginning to build, both online and in person. Around twenty of their old school friends all watching with delight as the two played out a scene that wouldn’t have been unfamiliar in the school canteen ten years previously. Will was pouring with sweat, large circles appearing round his neck and arm pits, with half circles under his meaty pecs. Milo on the other hand was taking it in his stride. Mouthful after large mouthful was being chewed and swallowed down into his clearly expanding belly. The burger and sausage, now joined by a decent slab of belly pork, a lamb shank as well as chicken kebab, a pork one and a lamb one. Just a rack of ribs, the chicken leg and a thick juicy steak to go.

Milo was loving the attention, it made the pressure in his belly fade away as he heard people cheering and the distant ping of people tipping him on the online video. He began to play to the crowd a little, getting people to cheer him on whilst he made banter jabs at wills expense. ‘I heard Dubai is lovely this time of year!’ He quipped.

By the time Milo was down to one steak, Will was a mess. His belly was clearly maxed out, tight and rounded out straight from under his ribs. He was breathing heavily and in front of him was nearly half the food he’d bragged about finishing off so easily. Milo picked up the steak and showed it off to the crowd. Taking a big bite he began the final hurdle. He felt uncomfortably full, more so than he had before. He’d decided he would try and count up exactly how much food was packed into his belly when he got home. Maybe as a little bonus for his OnlyFans premium account. He might even do a little strip tease reveal of his belly and the consequences of the stuffing for them. There were a few heavy tippers who would really enjoy that.

Showing off, he managed to devour the heavy steak in 10 bites. Chewing and swallowing the last one, to the rapturous applause of the crowd. Will shook his head, looking a little green and belched, quickly putting his hand to his mouth just in case he threw up. ‘You win!’ He admitted. ‘I’m seriously impressed!’

Laughing, Milo picked up the sausage and a kebab from Will’s plate and ate them as well as the gathered school colleagues whooped and cheered. It was actually a little painful but it was worth it to see the genuine admiration on Will’s face. Turning to the camera he gave his usual belly reveal to his followers. Peeling up his shirt over the top of his engorged midsection, he revealed his packed furry gut. Ralphy ran in and gave his belly a big slap to celebrate. Milo laughed it off but it nearly made him chuck the whole lot back up. Swallowing it down he turned to Will and shook his hand. ‘Let me know when we leave and I’ll try and find my passport!’ He said with glee. Belching heavily, Will just nodded and smiled.

After the crowd began to disperse, Milo took his phone back from Jordan and gave a little shoutout to his watchers. At the bottom of the screen, just before he shut it down, he saw a brief flash of a username exiting the chat. ‘Jai-Eats’ was the name, which was the handle of his role model. Could that have actually been him? Milo thought to himself? Shaking away the thought quickly. As Will excused himself to get home, Milo tried to pull down his shirt over his belly to cover himself up but couldn’t really do it. Leaving it unbuttoned, framing his bloated stomach. Laughing he stayed a little while chatting to his old friends and knocking back a few more beers to numb the pain of his bloat. The familiar feeling of being uncomfortably full settling in to a dull ache as his system set about digesting the huge amount of food he had just consumed.

Later that evening both engorged gents reflected on their experiences that day at home. Will had been reticent to go to the reunion, not really wanting to see anyone now he was so fat. He pretended to be confident about his belly but really he was ashamed. He hadn’t lied, the belly was sort of accidental, and was really the result of a few too many take aways from his bachelor pad. But it was more than that. He loved food. Greasy take-aways were a guilty pleasure but he actually loved the whole process of cooking something from scratch. Experimenting with herbs and spices and new gadgets. Working out on how to slow roast a shoulder of pork perfectly using his brand new bbq and wireless thermometer was his happy place. And not only did he love cooking the food, he loved eating it. He loved the feeling of laying in the sofa at the end of a huge meal and feeling the weight of the food he had cooked himself and then consumed. Seeing Milo today had made him realised how much he enjoyed that full feeling but also how much he had to learn. It would be good to reconnect with him and maybe eat together. As he lay there rubbing his distended and rock hard belly he began to fall asleep. Dreaming of all the foods he would cook for Milo and how big Milo’s belly would get as he pushed in more and more and more.

Milo on the other hand was at home nursing his also swollen stomach. The food had begun to go south inside him, rounding his belly out even further. Being on the more muscular side meant that his stomach went through stages of digestion you could almost watch. Rubbing his belly in the mirror and seeing how the bottom half of his gut had rounded out a little more. He could hear the digestion sounds gurgle and churn. He watched as another part of his anatomy became swollen. As he massaged and stroked his stomach his thoughts moved to Will. His belly was incredible, round and hard and firm. And even though Milo out-ate him in the competition, he wasn’t sure if Will had actually eaten more food than him overall. He definitely ate faster, and maybe at the rate he was eating, more food ended up in there. Thinking about the new bloated and rounded out Will was new. He hadn’t seen Will in a while but he had never seen him in a sexual way? Now just thinking about that round tank of a belly and how full it was, was doing something for him. Milo took himself off for a shower to work out those emotions. As he left, peeling off his clothes rapidly, he didn’t notice his phone buzz. It was a dm from Jai-eats which was simply a number and the message ‘Call me’.