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onelittlespiral · 8 days
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I’ve been looking for a fraternity to join at my new college, but none of them have really been letting me in. The only one left seems to be full of horny jocks that are dumber than a bag of bricks. Think you could help me… fit in?
FML: In
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As you laid it all out in front of your friend, your plans, your goals, your desires, he just kind of shook his head in disbelief:
“I know that I’ve only known you for a few weeks, but damn that’s disappointing.”
“What’s so wrong about wanting to pledge?” you replied, “It would just make getting connected the university so much easier. Plus, the parties are legendary.”
“No I get it,” he scowled, “but really? Pi Kappa Epsilon?”
“Listen, they weren’t my first choice either. I would have preferred a group a little less… dim.” I knew he wouldn’t leave it there.
“Dim? Dim still implies some light on upstairs. You can just call them what they are: brainless frat bros. They think with their dicks and muscle their way through academics. I can’t believe you’re asking me to use my power for this.” He began walking towards the door.
I called after, “Look, I’ve seen you do crazier shit than this. You turned the guy upstairs into a dog for a week.”
He stopped in the door frame for a minute to chuckle, “If he was going to call the RA a bitch he may as well get first hand experience.”
“Please dude.” I stared at him.
After a moment he relented, “Fine. But are you sure you want this? You want to change for this? A frat?”
“Yes. And I promise I’ll get you into any party you want!”
“Fine. Give me a bit. But remember, you asked for it.”
He returned in a bit and tossed me a necklace from across the room, “Here’s your frat solution. Wear this to your next thing with them at their house.”
You inspected it. It looked like a basic chain necklace like you had seen other guys wear around “And do what? What does it do?”
He rolled his eyes, “And do nothing. It will help you fit into the frat, I promise.”
“No magic words or anything?” I asked.
He grinned, “Oh come on, think of me as better than needing all that crap. Now put it on so you don’t lose it.”
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It fits well around your neck, “I’m headed over there tonight, I think it is the last event before they drop everyone. You sure this will work?”
“Trust me,” he says, “You want in the frat? You will be in the frat.”
When you arrive at the frat house, you do feel the necklace almost pulling you inside. It feels warm against your chest as you wander around, talking with some brothers and checking in with your fellow pledges. You get a sense of magnetism from it, like the necklace is pulling the frat house around it towards you. As the party kicks into gear, you focus less on the chain and more on socializing. But whatever it’s effect, it seems to be working. Brothers and other pledges are seeming to stumble over themselves trying to talk with you. Even the pledge master gives a knowing glance and tilts his head in approval. In a little under two hours, you begin to feel more at home in the house, more comfortable in the crowd. Maybe for the first time you feel a sense of brotherhood. So it is a shock when you step into the bathroom to take a piss and take a look in the mirror.
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You don’t recognize the face that stared back. You blinked in confusion, assuming you had too much to drink. But no. The stranger in the mirror stared back into your eyes, copying your every move as you tilted your head and inspected your face in awe. The trance broke as you glanced down and saw the truth. Your polo shirt stretched against your chest as two pectorals firmly pushed out, flexing with each breath. Your pants had grown tight around my quads, now a good few inches short. They hugged your ass so tightly you were surprised they hadn’t ripped. Tattoos flowed down your arms, newly ripped and well toned. You noticed for the first time the power you felt coursing through your veins. You could almost feel your skin taut against your muscles as they slowly swelled. You pulled your top off to get a better look at the action.
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‘Damn I look good’ you think as you admire the new cum gutters and still developing 6-pack. You try out a few poses in the mirror, just to see the muscles move. The necklace is no joke. No way PKE would drop you now, you looked like you fit right in. But, at the same time, you figured it may be time to get the necklace off. You didn’t want to change too much, and no telling how far it would go. You go for the back of your neck and and start to fiddle with the clasp when the necklace suddenly starts to warm up.
You feel the odd magnetism is no longer subtle. It feels as though the necklace is pulling against the frat house you, drawing it’s very essence towards you. At the same time, the growth within your body stops as the necklace channels all its energy towards your head. The sudden spike hits like a migraine, as you let go of the necklace and go to hold your temples. The necklace wants to finish its work. Your senses are sharpened to a point, as you feel the heat of the bros downstairs, taste cheap beer and seltzers, hear every footstep, see every muscle and bulge, and smell 100 horny men all at once. You feel the pure energy of the fraternity pull through your body as it shapes you. Beneath the pressure, your mind buckles as false memories push their way in. Memories of watching college football on TV. Working out during the summer to become a fucking stud. Playing the field as soon as you got to college. Meeting up with some brothers to get a foot in the door. Getting called a fuckboi for the first time on Tinder. Wearing it like a badge of pride.
Your brain throbbed as the energy reshaped your memories and personality, but your balls churned as it began to adjust your libido. They ached as they swelled to the size of golf balls. Your cock was rigid at attention as you grabbed it with both meaty hands and started to pump. Your body writhed as every stroke only makes the pleasure more intense. You are soon hot with the effort. An aura of testosterone and sweat formed around you as a frat funk sets in deep: a mixture of booze, yesterday’s workout, and cheap cologne. The smell only drives you more wild, and you start to feel your brain short circuit. Your mind, consumed by pleasure, gave into the pressure and lost any remaining will to resist. The necklace pulsed in time with your throbbing cock as it buried the old you. As you reached climax, you knew there was no going back. As you shot your load across the room, a new you was released. A dumb, horny frat bro ready to pledge PKE.
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And then the door behind you opened.
The pledge master, apparently worried by how long you had been in here, walked in on your afterglow as you tucked your cock back into your pants.
“Hey man, you okay?” he asked before recoiling a step. You watched as he smelled your rank funk and nearly gagged. You took a step closer.
“Yeah bro, better than ever. What about you? You look like you’re about to vomit.” you said, leaning in a bit closer. You flex your muscles and let your pit stench join the lingering cloud. You feel yourself start to harden again as he tried not to react.
“Bro, you are fucking rank. You smell like a… like a-”
“Like a frat house should?” you taunted. He had stopped recoiling and seemed now to be fighting a different urge.
“I don’t know bro, you should get- get that looked at.”
His eyes were focused on your muscles as you slowly flexed them rhythmically to the music downstairs. I felt the necklace pulling him closer as he fought the urges he is having. Fuck, you remembered that feeling, that pull towards desire. You knew how to help him out though. You grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips to your pecs. As his lips connected with your flesh and tasted the beads of sweat that rolled down your chest, he wrapped his arms around you and began worshiping your muscles. As he kissed and licked every inch of your chest and washboard abs, he gently rubbed against your rigid cock. It wasn’t long before he was licking at the fabric separating his mouth from his prize. But as he reached for the elastic band around your waist, you grabbed his hair and pulled him up.
Your mind reveled in in the power you held in your hands and the pleasure your new frat bro could cause with his mouth. But you only had one thing left on you mind:
“I wanna be in the frat bro.” You said.
He mumbled as his mouth still searched for your flesh, “Yeah man, sure thing. I’ll make it happen. You can be a frat bro. Just please let me suck on your-“
“No,” you boomed. You pulled him out of the bathroom and into the nearest bedroom, locking the door behind you. You grabbed his ass as he grew limp in your hands, “I want to be in the frat bro.” You slip your hand beneath his gym shorts and begin slowly finger fucking his tight, straight hole.
He understood his place as he slipped off his shorts and underwear, leaving his cheeks on full display.
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He moaned like he was in heat, “Yeah bro. Please. I would be so honored.”
You bent him over and spat in his quivering hole before you pressed your cock against him. You didn’t wait for him to relax as you slammed your cock as deep as you could and watched him yelp in surprise. As you slowly sped up and heard him start to moan, you felt the necklace once again start to warm against my chest as its power flowed through your cock and into the bro beneath you. He too began to sweat with the funk of the frat as was remade in its image under your guidance. He was going to become just as unified with PKE as you were.
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onelittlespiral · 12 days
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Tenor Troubles
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Masculinization spurred by a going from a Tenor to a Bass, bit of an odd one but hope you enjoy! -Occam
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Max probably should have read his contract more closely. He knew that grad students across the board were getting shafted, but the agreement he has with the College of Fine Arts was some next level exploitation. He prided himself on his voice, being able to sing higher than even most of the Altos he has previously studied alongside. But his degree plan on the already signed contract suggests he is going to be enrolled as a Bass in the graduate program. Clearly there has been some misunderstanding that he’ll just need to work out with the department.
He knocks on the door of his advising professor and without waiting for a come in he bursts through the doors to see the man who is both his boss and professor staring at him less than pleased. Max’s face reddens in embarrassment and before he can even open his mouth to speak, Dr. Reyes addresses him.
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“Maxwell is it. I trust you have a reason for barging into my office? I ask that you take more care towards decorum in the future.”
Max stumbles through an apology before getting to the matter at hand. “Y- yes of course I’m so sorry doctor it won't happen again, I swear.” He raises his eyes to his professor’s stern gaze, flinching back slightly as he goes on, “it’s just that, um, it looks like there was some kind of mix-up with my enrollment, I mean clearly you can tell I’m a Tenor right?” He raises his tone slightly and smiles awkwardly as he tries to make it clear to the man across from him that he certainly does not have the range.
Dr. Reyes rubs his beard, briefly covering his own mouth and wiping a smile from his face. “Well now Maxwell, there does seem to be a mismatch between your vocal training, and your preferred classes and yada yada,” waving his hands dismissively as Max’s face stains a deeper shade of scarlet by the second. Reyes goes on, “I'll see what I can do but all these changes take time If you must change your plan it’ll be at least a week. Until then if you could see to it that you fulfill the TA demands asked of you and attend your classes hm? You are under contract are you not?” The image of his signature at the bottom of contract feels burned into his retinas as he starts to reply, “well yes but-” An alarm goes off on the professor’s desk. “Very well Maxwell, if you would excuse me.”
Dr. Reyes makes his way to the next class smiling as he too thinks of the fine print of Maxwell's contract. ‘The student will become what the program asks of him.’ What a dunce one must be to sign that without an inquiry. Giving one last glance behind him to see the small student shaking with rage at the series of events, veins appearing to bulge out of his neck as he thinks about chasing after his professor, almost taking a step before grasping at his head. Max doubles over and grunts, after a painful second he rises once more and sees his advising professor enter a classroom. He exhales through his nose and walks to the concert hall with the undergraduate Bass students, the course he is, both legally and otherwise, compelled to assist with. 
The Next Week
Max is inches away from just dropping out. He was well-prepared to be constantly stressed from grad school but the wrench of working with students who don’t respect him and professors that are expecting him to sing alongside the rest of these professional bassists, it’s impossible! Dr. Reyes must be doing some sick joke on him, there is no reason it should be so difficult to fix this! He shouldn’t be graded for the university’s mistake. Beyond the looming threat of flunking these courses for his inaptitude he is also constantly hungry. His stomach rumbles and sends pangs through his body as he sits through each course on vocal instruction. He succumbs to stress-eating assuming one plate must fall and it may as well be his waistline.
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Every time he indulges in his hunger he finds weight almost immediately piles on. Alongside his meticulously honed falsetto he has always enjoyed just how tight and small he kept his twinkish figure, though this begins to slip as he finds himself straining his tight pants and his stomach showing through his button ups.
The final issue lies precisely in his private vocal practice, in lieu of the training his program should guarantee. As he goes about practicing the arias and vocalizations that he typically uses as warmups he finds himself struggling to hit the highest notes. He works his way through them slowly and slips up, finding his range is peaking out much lower than it ever should. He grimaces and refuses to deign and see if his range has increased in the other direction. He goes note by note, taking his time to feel the stress and vibrations of his vocal chords. Reaching the pinnacle of the piece he strains to hit the high note and his voice promptly cracks. He feels a tear. He coughs and gasps for air concerned that he has truly injured himself. 
When no blood or further pain reveals itself Max finally clears his throat and drinks a glass of water. He tests his voice, “Uhhhh-” forcing his hand over his mouth before even getting a full syllable out. Eyes watering as he hears his voice is unmistakably deeper than it was not a minute ago. This spurs him to action as he storms to the college and bangs on the door of Dr. Reyes.
For his part Reyes is sitting at the desk finishing an email and grinning as he hears the banging grow only more fervent at his door. He finishes his email almost laughing at how effective he is at controlling the man at the door. Knock as he may he could not storm in if he wanted to, as he must desperately. Closing his laptop and reaching to grab a tea bag from within his desk he calls to allow Max entry, “Do come in Maxwell.”
Stomping into the room, unaccustomed to the new weight he carries, which Dr. Reyes is all too pleased to notice. He takes a deep breath as he prepares to shout at the professor, his chest growing as his already prodigious lungs expand. Before finishing though Reyes raises a finger and strikes him passive and mute. “Now Max, why don’t you have a seat.” He clenches his hands with a furor and sits, stewing in his mind while also rapt with attention. “How have you been liking your classes?” Max continues to sit silently watching as the prepare a pot of tea, beginning to forget his ire as he looks on in confusion at the man. Reyes turns once more and rolls his eyes, “Well go on.”
Shaking out of it Max finally starts clearing his throat a few times hoping the voice he has worked so hard to protect and train will return “I, ugh- Sorry it’s ugh!” Dr. Reyes leans against his desk and steeps the tea bag, eyebrows raised with a thin smile on his face. Failing to speak as he so wishes the rage returns to Max and he shouts out, “It’s my fucking voice! I came here to learn and all these classes are just a waste of my fucking time!”
Reyes pours the tea into a large mug and sets it in front of his student, “Now now, if you were having voice problems why didn’t you just say so Max. I am a professional after all! Have some of this and I’m sure it will set you right as rain.” The professor watches as Max grasps the mug and stares into it. He remembers that Reyes was already preparing it when he came in. But it’s not as if his advisor would do something truly untoward right? Sensing the hesitation Dr. Reyes’ eyes darken and he commands, “I did say to drink it did I not.”
Max quickly raises the glass and sips. His eyes remain dark and he continues, “what seems to be the problem with your voice young Maxwell?” Taking a break from drinking he starts to explain all of his troubles to the man who should be looking out for him. Gesturing to his clearly larger body, Reyes notices beyond the weight gain that the sitting man is adjusting himself as his pants begin to grow even tighter, his ankles growing exposed as if his legs were lengthening. 
He continues to stumble onward with his recollection, forgetting what exactly bothered him enough to storm in. Reyes half-listens and takes care to refill the tea cup as needed, taking in the physical changes to the man rambling and wondering just how far they will be able to go. Eventually Reyes speaks up, “you were having trouble with your voice, yes Maxwell?”
Max’s eyes glimmer with recognition and he almost jumps with a start, “Yes! That was it I couldn’t sing the part I auditioned with in Nessun Dorma and I was-” His professor interrupts as he takes a big swing at Max’s psyche, “Is that so? What were you doing singing that Maxwell, that’s for tenors.” As if a grenade went off in his mind Max struggles to reconcile and remember what his problem was, did he not audition as a Tenor? But he couldn’t sing high to save his life right? Or no. 
Reyes watches as Max’s brow grows sweaty in his inner struggle. He physically raises the cup to Max’s mouth helping him finish the entire pot of tea. Confident that the man before him is far enough gone to only latch on his words, Reyes offers him a bone, “which side of your range are you struggling with boy.” Feeling emasculated by the professor infantilizing him he feels an urge to test his lower range. Reyes sees the resolve in Max’s eyes and challenges him, “Go on, sing your lowest note, now.” Max takes a deep breath and produces a sonorous note sustaining it far better than he would have ever expected himself to. 
Reyes smiles and shoots to plant another seed, “Well now Maxwell, I’m not quite sure what the problem is then. Your range seems to be what any trained Baritone’s should be.” The word Baritone echoes through Max’s head as he once more grows paralyzed in his own mind. He ekes out a “B- Baritone?” his voice cracking even deeper as he freezes. Reyes watches as his eyebrows knit together in confusion, they seem to grow thicker as they near each other.
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Vocal range and masculinity don’t inherently match one-to-one but the professor is more than happy to allow it, staring as the weight from Max’s stomach begins to slightly redistribute itself, it slides up his chest, straining the buttons near his collar. Reyes shifts to look at Max’s face, eyes lingering on the Adam's apple making itself unmissable on his neck. He sees peach fuzz growing on Max’s upper lip and sideburns. Thoroughly pleased with the acceleration he has achieved today an alarm once more goes off on his phone and he readies to send his protege off. 
“Maxwell dear, I thank you for your patience. Of course I know that you’d prefer to be with the other Baritone student’s though I am sure you are learning valuable information working outside your comfort zone hm? I’m sure we’ll have this snafu fixed by next week.” Max just stares in a stupor as he stares at his professor, the empty mug of tea still in his hand before he sets it down to scratch at his tighter shirt. Dr. Reyes offers him a kerchief to wipe the drool from his mouth as he leads him out of his office, “Why don’t you try your warm ups, I’m sure they’ll set you right as rain.” 
Just as he did last time he takes one last look at his growing student as he begins to wander down the hall, his pants swiftly turning from slacks to tight capris. He hears the echo of the man humming to himself as he walks down the hallway to his own office hours. He’ll need to be ready for whatever his Bass performance students need right? Can’t have them out showing him even if he’s still working outside his comfort zone. Just one more week of this and he’ll get to show off to the Baritones, once more with his choral cohort.
The Next Week
Dr. Reyes stays abreast of how his star pupil is doing this week. He visits during private lessons and checks into lectures on music theory and rehearsals. He hears the man force his voice to be stronger. After any challenge he hears the man force himself to be louder. When struggling with curriculum, surely impeded by the doctor’s manipulation, he clutches at his head as his body surges larger, tightening clothes that were already sizes too large when he started his education here.
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He sees Max looking at his reflection in the mirror of a practice room. He checks his beard from every angle, tilting his head up to see his large Adam's apple and smirks watching it vibrate as he hums. He unbuttons yet another button of his shirt, allowing an even greater view of his pecs as thick chest hair spills outward. Reyes hears his voice power through the soundproofed room as he approaches. He has clearly decided to leave Baritone behind without any prodding as he endeavors to show off his talents despite ostensibly singing to himself. 
Dr. Reyes knocks on the door of the practice room and like an eager dog Max falls over himself to answer it. He now stands taller than his professor whose head now lies directly at the hairy pecs spilling from his opened shirt. Max’s eyes glimmer as he looks down to the smug face of the professor. He quickly sits down to lower himself below the doctor and eagerly awaits whatever is soon to spill from Reyes’ mouth.
“I must say Maxwell, you have truly outdone yourself. Truly you hold one of the most powerful Bass voices I have heard in my time.” Max sits quietly, his heart racing with excitement from such kind words. He struggles to stay silent, lest he speak out of turn, though he cannot hide the rumble in his chest as his deep breaths accelerate. The doctor struggles to keep it together as he sees a pulse in the unmistakable, currently growing, bulge in Max’s pants. He briefly wonders if he’s gone too far, before looking back to the man’s face, seeing his eyes still staring directly into him waiting.
Perhaps he can go farther. “Is it not a shame though, my dear Max, that you’re not a true Basso Profundo?” There is a loud tear in the room as Max’s body surges larger. He shoots up inches more in height revealing a hairy stomach and pubes that already spill beyond the bounds of his pants. Reyes hears a catch in his student’s breath and watches as his Adam's apple bulge even further from his throat. His cock bursts the zipper of his pants and Max moans loud and deep enough for the professor to feel it in his chest. Reyes can’t take his eyes from the hair covering his chest grows even darker, curling as each strand grows thicker.
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Before losing control of himself and his desires Dr. Reyes forces one last statement through Max’s mind, “You know the department has always wanted a basso profundo coach. How would you feel about being an assistant professor, Max?” In response Max can only sit in awe as a look of what can only be described as pleasure stains his face, mouth lolling open as his eyes grow crossed. His hands clench the sides of his chair as he struggles to not lose control over himself and the professor. Thinking of staining the practice room only makes it more difficult to keep it together. 
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Reyes feels a hunger within himself as he stares down at the massive man seconds away from cumming all over himself. In time he too will only know Max as the powerful man he is now. At this juncture however the doctor sneaks out of the practice room and heads to return to his office to prepare for office hours, what kind of a professor would he be if he wasn’t there for his pupils after all. 
Walking down the hallway he hears the man in the practice room lose control, his voice echoing down the hall before hearing him run out and to the nearest bathroom. He prioritizes increasing the soundproofing of the practice rooms before turning to see the new Assistant Professor sprint down the hallway towards the nearest restroom. Struggling to move swiftly or quietly in his far-too-strained clothing. Reyes returns to the desk and smiles once more to himself as he thinks of a future for himself, his program, and his new star Basso Profundo, before hearing yet another knock at the door. 
“Do come in.”
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onelittlespiral · 12 days
Text
Machismo Musk
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Finishing up his skincare routine Valentino smeared his face mask over his already supple skin. Waiting to be able to wipe it off he pulled out his phone and began planning the next time him and his best friend can go hangout again! Opening his texts he sees that he has left his best friend on delivered, looking at the text from Edgar it read, “Yo Val! We gotta hang again bro! I met this guy at the gym today and I think he can really help you get out there again!”. It was odd to Valentino that Edgar was calling him Val and bro, but Edgar was right, ever since Valentino and his boyfriend split three months ago he hasn’t put himself back out there at all. “Okieeee” Valentino texted back, “just tell me when he is free and I'll be there”. Within seconds Edgar responded with “Dudeeee he is free tmrr! Shld I give him your addy”, being more weirded out by his language but thinking it's just a bit, Valentino tells Edgar to give the guy his address and tell him to come over at one tomorrow afternoon.
Hearing the knock at his door Valentino lifted himself out of his bed and looked at the clock. “Weird” he thought to himself “it's barely even 11:00 A.M. I wonder who that could be”. Rubbing his eyes he got up and went to the door not bothering to brush his teeth or really do anything to get ready, expecting it to be a package or just some kid being a punk. Opening the door he was met face to face, or really face to pecs, with a hunk of a man standing on his welcome mat.
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A little shocked Valentino asked hastily “Who are you!?”, “Wow don’t sound too excited to see me brochacho” the hunky man said, “Im Angel! Your friend…uhhh Edgar told me to come here!” Angel said with enthusiasm in his voice. “Uhhhhh Angel is it…yea it’s nice to meet you but you are two hours earlier…”, “Oh am I?”Angel responded earnestly, “I thought you wanted me to come over at eleven.”, “No no no, I told Edgar to send you at one o’clock”. Valentino corrected. “Oh my god Im so sorry” Angel apologized “I’m horrible with numbers and you know Edgar huhuhuh, he is utterly simple-minded…more so than me huhuh!” Angel chuckled out. “What are you talking about? Edgar is one of the smartest guys I know” Valentino questioned, assuming that Angel had mixed two guys up in his own head. “Well are you gonna make me wait here for two hours?,” Angel asked rhetorically, completely ignoring your question. Not want to seem rude on the first meeting
Valentino invited him in, bringing him inside and shutting the front door. Valentino asked as they still stood next to the front door, “Oh do you mind taking your shoes off here?”, “Oh you don’t want me to do that little broooo!” Angel responded.
Slowly Valentino could, as if on cue, smell a masculine funk began to fill the room, contaminating the air with a stale, musty smell.. Valentino, trying not to cover his nose or bring out the Febreze, told the potential partner “You came so early haha I didn’t have time to get ready! I will be back. Do you mind waiting here?”, “What didn’t you do? You look ready to me?” Angel said with a hint of a flirty tone. “Oh ya know I ummm…didn’t get to brush my teeth or wash my face or even put on any deodorant…hahaha” Valentino let out a laugh trying to hide his embarrassment “I promise i'm normally more put together”. Angel responded with all seriousness and said “I don’t mind huhuhuh. If it makes you feel better I never wear deodorant” Lifting up his arm and exposing his hairy and damp cavern of musk. Not being able to contain his gagging, the miasma of B.O. began pumping into the room and into his nose. Between an orchestra of gags, Valentino tried to excuse himself once more, “I want to get uhhhh nice and get ready for you…”. Seeing through this white lie grabbed the back of Valentino’s head and muttered, “It’s rude to react like that. It’s time to help you realize the beauty of tapping into your inner machismo”. Valentino tried to pull away, confused by what this stinking hunk was saying, “What the fuc-?” Valentino’s profane response to Angel’s comment was interrupted by a face full of sweaty, pungent, armpit hair. Being pulled into the source of Angel’s “machismo musk” as he would call it, Valentino’s brain immediately fogged up making him weak and incapable of thinking rationally or with any semblance of his normal intellect.
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As Valentino pummeled Angel's torso with blinded, wild blows, his already weak punches grew weaker and weaker with every second in the pit. At the same time Angel could hear Valentino’s confused, angry, mumbling slowly fade at the same time. By the time 30 seconds had passed, all that Valentino could say in protest was a light moan that was still an arduous task for his musk filled mind, and all he could do was gently raise his hand and push back with so little force that he couldn’t even be able to push around a piece of paper if he tried. Feeling what felt like growing pains in his feet Valentino let out a loud groan which swiftly dulled into a soft, constant, moan. Valentino felt his feet begin to crack as if the bones were breaking and shifting, he felt as his toes were being forced outwards and the soles of his feet began to grow larger both in width and length. Valentino incapable of picking up on any scent other than Angel’s B.O. could only feel the changes not smell them, but Angel could smell a cloud of buttery funk mixed with the smell of fermented cheese rise and help fill the room. Valentino began to feel his legs inflate, leaving him with nice, tight calves and two massive thunder thighs. Like any good himbo Valentino felt his perky little twink ass inflate into two pillows which jiggle and bounce with every step. Angel had to lift his arm a little higher and take a step back for the newly acquired height of the 6’1 Latino. Valentino felt the readjustment and unconsciously made sure his own nose never left or got too far from the source of the funky scent. Feeling a rumbling in his gut Valentino felt his tiny little gut and naturally cinched looking waist expand and turn into a stomach with the making of a 6 pack but with a nice, soft, layer of fat keeping the chiseled statue still encased in a little bit of marble. His pecs began, much like his ass, to inflate without his permission or full knowledge as they became a gorgeous rack of pure man mass.
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The next transformation happened to his arms, becoming nice, soft, tendrils of unthreatening muscles but as soon as he flexes the soft edges harden into sharp, cutting muscles. Above the transformation in his arm, his armpits became much like Angel’s, filled with a foul-smelling, putrid, jungle of long dark hair, absolutely contaminating what little fresh air was left in the apartment. The final changes came in the form of his face growing a bit more masculine and alluring, stubble growing in and his hair shortening a little.
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Being pulled out of the malodorous prison that just turned the neat and clean twink into an unhygienic and dirty himbo, Valentino caught his breath. Looking at the work of art in front of him Angel asked “How are you feeling bro?” and in a much deeper voice that shocked Valentino he replied with “W…what did you…do to me?”. Angel, needing to finish the newly minted himbo’s transformation, brought Valentino over to the couch and sat him down and then saddled on top of Valentino’s hips, trapping him in place. “Shhhhh you will be finished soon, pretty boy,” Angel said. Hearing the words “pretty boy” dance out of his mouth, felt like a static shock swept through Valentinos brain, assisting the dissipating B.O. that was keeping Valentino dazed during the transformation. As the static shock shot from ear to ear he felt his own head fall back against the couch and his mouth become unbarred of his lips and be left agape, losing the power to keep his lips fully shut. Angel, knowing that it is time to complete the sweaty hunk he is mounting, removes his sneaker, brings it up to his own nose and takes a whiff.
Shuttering out of pure pleasure and excitement Angel moans out “I stink so goddamn good! You’re gonna love this part dude!”. Lowering the shoe over Valentino’s face, covering his mouth and nose with the outpouring of foot funk rapidly escaping from the heavily used shoe, Angel watches as Valentino’s eyes roll into the back of his skull as if he is trying to watch his own brain transform. The stench, bolting out, trying to escape the shoe that kept it trapped like a genie in a lamp, forced its way out of the shoe to find a new home. Being met with an open mouth and two nostrils the rank air shot into Valentino’s lungs and brain. In his brain Valentin felt as his thinking got, somehow, even slower, he could feel his thoughts, starting from his most recent, begin to evaporate into the stench. As the wave of foot funk continued to alter Valenti’s mind he could feel his years of going to bookstores and quaint little cafés with Edgar turn into years constantly hitting the gym and playing soccer with Edgar. Valent felt the memories of learning how to take care of himself and keep a neat ship from his loving sisters turn into him and his brothers leaving dirty laundry everywhere, ripping ass constantly in each other's faces, overflowing their kitchen sink with dishes and passively hotboxing their rooms with their own foul funk. Helping tutor kids after school while Valen was in High School turned into needing to get a tutor for every subject, no one would take him because they couldn’t bear the stench. All of these memories of being a responsible, smart, and clean functioning member of society turned into memories of an irresponsible, total airhead of a jock who only filled his head with the scent of him dutch ovening himself for fun and the funk of his never washed armpits or feet. Vale struggled as he tried desperately to hold onto his memories but for whatever reason these new stink filled memories seemed just so much better in every way, life was easier, simpler, he loved hanging with his best bro Edgar even more, and he never needed to clean up after himself. I mean if he or his friends didn’t mind the stink constantly hanging in his apartment, and knowing that his friends amplify the stink whenever they come over he knew they didn’t mind one bit, then why would he need to get rid of his own hard work? And Val never got rid of his “hard work”, all over his apartment layed piles of damp piles of clothes that stink to high heaven, and the stupefying scent of the shoe rack at the front door will make sure that any non-jock coming in, or even any jock coming in, will leave a little bit stupider. Whenever Val has a guy over he always gets a little annoyed when the twink he takes home won't stop complaining about the lingering smell but he doesn’t mind it anymore because he knows that just one whiff of his bedroom will render their minds incapable of thinking of words for at least an hour.
Angel feeling a wet spot spread out across Val’s crotch knew that Valentino was never coming back, Val was here to stay. Removing his other shoe and throwing them both on the ground at the foot of the couch, Angel got off of Val and sat next to him with his arm around Val’s shoulder. “You and your friend Edgar transformed nicely into your true, machismo forms.” Angel mumbled to himself. Angel then asked you “Hey bro after we fuck do you have any twinks that I can uhhhh…help realize their true potential.” “Uhhhhhhhhh” Val thought for a long time trying to get a thought to bubble through, “Oh! My friend Bruno is single right now!”, “Perfect. Text him and say that I will take him out tomorrow at 1:00” Angel requested of his new macho gym bro.
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onelittlespiral · 13 days
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Be of Service
Round of applause to @mrrharper
I dumped my uniform and bag into the locker, my partner John doing likewise beside me. After a graveyard shift, the two of us had decided to hit the gym bright and early in the morning before sleeping through our day off. John and I had been partners since we had first joined the police force. As officers, we had done a lot together; rode together, drank together, laughed together. One time we were even in a foursome together with two chicks we had picked up at a bar.
Now in our early thirties though, we had begun to take life a little more seriously. Start choosing wisely, acting responsibly. Working out had been my idea, and after six months it had already shown some results. Both of us were average height and had gained some pudge over the years, but now we both had notable definition. I could not help but flex a little in the mirror, impressed by the beginnings of my triceps.
“Looking fire, broski!”
My eyes shifted over to one of the three football jocks who sauntered into the locker room. I was immediately annoyed by the trio of obnoxious meatheads, and I could tell John was as well.
“Have you been coming here for long?” the first asked. “We haven’t seen you around.”
“We come when we can,” I replied. “Working for the law gives us busy schedules.”
“Woah…so are you guys like, officers or something?” the second guffawed.
“Officers, yeah.” John was irked.
“Huhuhuh…cool bruh!” the third jock inserted. “You two should totally join us!”
Before we could respond, the first jock piped back in, “Yeah dudes! We could have a great sesh between the five of us. Brock here is stellar at arms, and Duke is the best at working those legs and glutes.”
“Jalen’s a pro with chest,” the second jock, Brock, finished. “And you two officer bros, what are you good at?”
I grunted, “Knowing how to refuse an offer.”
It took Brock and Duke, the third jock, a second to process what I had implied, their mental capacities obviously slower than the average male. Jalen was a little faster however, putting on a dumb smile. 
“Your loss bros, but totally understandable,” he shrugged. “In case it wasn’t obvious, we’re on the football team at the local college, so let us know if you need any workout tips or exercises.”
I barely nodded my head, offering a blunt, “Ok, thanks.” John and I then made our way past the bulky jocks, the three of them each larger than either of us. I took a breath as soon as we exited their collective earshot.
“Three cocky dicks,” I snorted. “No better way to start the morning.”
John mockingly agreed. Our workout was brutal, our bodies already tired due to our unusual sleep schedule. This, along with the occasional stare from one of the jocks, only encouraged us to work harder. Nothing was spared from our exercises, we utilized machines that hit multiple areas at once. Arms and chest, legs and back, abs and quads. At the end, we hit the treadmills for a thirty minute run, sneering back at the trio while they stood in front of one of the many mirrors and flexed their pumped arms, taking pictures for social media.
Eventually, we were back in the locker room cleaning up, both expecting the jocks to ambush us again. Fortunately, the lumbering footballers never arrived. John had joked they were probably still drooling over their own muscles in the mirror, and I had replied better they were drooling on themselves then us. I did not want their narcissistic, dim-witted reek all over me, and neither did my partner. We both opted to skip showers; we could take them back at our respective apartments before crashing into our own, cool beds.
As we left the locker rooms and headed towards the exit, we were immediately swarmed by our unwanted acquaintances. 
“You know, bros,” Jalen swung a beefy, sweaty arm around both of us. Brock paced behind me, and Duke followed suit with John. “We never caught your names? We’d like to thank you for your service, officers, whatever it is you do."
His tone was a little menacing, but I knew he would not try to pull something in broad daylight. “Darren,” I responded. “and John.”
Jalen grinned, moving his arms to pat the back of our necks. I felt a little sting at his touch, almost like an electric shock.
“Now c’mon bros, how about you come join us at the frat house where we can properly use your services.”
John frowned, and I retorted with, “I think you boys have had your fun.”
Brock chuckled, “Fun’s not even started broski.”
Duke’s response was even deeper and dumber, “Huhuhuh...dudes aren’t even ready.”
We had finally made it outside, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon. I noticed our squad cars parked up front, we would be out of this mess in just a moment.
“Alright, this is our stop,” I exclaimed, making sure the three got my message. Suddenly, a piercing jolt was sent across my spine, traveling all the way from my brain to my toes.
“Our stop is actually over there, officers.” Jalen pointed to the two trucks past their cruisers. “Darren, you can come with me and Brock, Duke here is gonna take John.”
Robotically, my body followed Jalen’s command, tracing behind the first two jocks to their obnoxiously big vehicle. Although I could not turn my head, I could tell John’s body was following the orders as well.
“Disengage Operation Mode, security bypass JALEN, sleep.”
— —
“Engage 25% Operation Mode, security bypass JALEN, wake.”
My eyes fluttered open. I was standing in an empty room, not rigid but not slouching either. To my right, I could sense my partner’s presence, familiar with John’s aura. We were still in our dirty gym gear, although our body odor was nothing compared to the three jocks standing proudly before us. Through the windows behind them, I assumed it to still be some time in the morning, but that was the only piece of the situation that I could try to fathom.
“Bet you’ve never had a mind control chip implanted, have you, officers?”
I tried to respond with something snarky, but my mouth wouldn’t let me.
“We were just trying to be friendly, help some bros out, but you two insulted our kindness.” Jalen stepped a little closer, even from a distance I could feel his large, masculine presence. “Maybe next time you won’t mess with the son of a government-funded millionaire.”
Jalen pointed his fingers at his two goons. Brock and Duke each stepped forward, crossing the distance between them and John and I. They removed our shirts, and although I could see or move my feet, I realized my shoes had already been taken too.
“My dad gifted me some leftover mind-control chips he had built for the military, said I could use them if I ever needed them. Something along the lines of "accessing the nervous system" and "reprogramming capabilities". Didn't matter to me bros, it was all nerd-speak. I just needed the commands.”
If I could have, I would have gulped. Jalen stepped closer as the other jocks discarded our clothes.
“MC 1001, 50% Operation Mode.”
Suddenly, the feeling was restored throughout my body. I did not bother with attempting an escape, recognizing my body was still glued to the floor. When I turned to my partner, I realized John had not been released.
“What’s the plan, Jalen?” I spat.
“You were so rude to us back at our gym when you are employed to be of service” Jalen smirked. "The bros and I thought we should remind you of your duty, and what better way then by dispatching you as our new security guards who obey our every wish and command?”
“So what, you’re going to 'reprogram' us?”
“How about you see for yourself?” Jalen then turned to John. “MC 1002, engage Modification Mode, security bypass JALEN.”
“MC 1002, Modification Mode engaged, security bypass confirmed." It may have been John’s mouth that had opened, but I knew it was not him who was speaking.
“Brock,” Jalen invited. “How about you take the first swing?”
Brock laughed and scratched at his crotch, “Get him jacked bro.”
Jalen turned to Duke, “Anything specific you’d like to add?”
To my surprise, Duke did have something to add–a lot to add: “Make them former rugby players bro, cause rugby is for idiots and rugby players should serve football jocks, the real alphas.”
Jalen raised his eyebrows, a bit surprised too. “Works for me. MC 1002, enter in keywords ‘Rugby’ and ‘Jock’ to the personality frame and set both at 88. Raise ‘Muscle’ by 40 base points and remove any post-secondary education from the mainframe.”
Watching the football neanderthal list off a series of programming commands put our situation into a new perspective. My eyes grew with fear as the changes installed into John’s body. It was like watching a horrible balloon inflation, his body contorting as it expanded. John’s once meager chest bloated into two massive pecs supported by two trunks of legs. His arms cartoonishly bulged until they were practically circular, his pits filling with hair as a tattoo wrapped itself around his right bicep. His face thickened too, adopting a square shape along with a wider nose and thicker stubble.
“Keywords ‘Rugby’ and ‘Jock’ successfully installed.” John’s voice was now deeper, gruffer. “‘Muscle’ upgraded, post-secondary education deleted.”
Jalen nodded, “MC 1002, add 10 base points to his age as well.”
“Adding 10 base points to ‘Age’.” To my shock, I helplessly observed my partner grow older beside me. The skin around his body tightened, pulling in to reveal the more delicate details of his veins and tendons. Wrinkles began to develop across his body along with other age marks. It was painful to watch his hairline slowly pull back, his scalp thinning out into a well-maintained crew cut.
“Here’s the fun part,” Jalen mocked, noting my face of terror. "Lower cognitive abilities by 20 base points and independent identity by 30 base points. Install the ‘Security’ package to the mainframe and boost the ‘Obedience’ category to max potential."
Although there were no visible alterations, I could have sworn the light went out behind my partner’s eyes. “All actions executed, please confirm modifications to MC 1002.”
Jalen smirked, making direct eye contact with me. “Confirm MC 1002, disengage Modification Mode, reengage total Operation Mode.”
To my delight, I watched as John’s body reanimated completely, indicating he now had full control over his body. But any hope I had was immediately crushed as soon as he stood at command, dumbly  grinning with his arms crossed over his chest.
“How can I be of service, sir?” John asked Jalen.
“Go do a full sweep of the yard of something, bro.” Jalen tossed John a pair of sunglasses, not even bothering to hand him any other clothes. Apparently his now too-tight joggers were enough. “Oh, and by the way, you go by Hammer now.”
“Hammer…” John processed. “Yes sir, thank you sir.”
I watched as my former partner stomped out of the room, out of our reality.
“Why ‘Hammer’, bro?” Brock piped in from behind me.
“‘Cause he’ll be laying down the law of the land.” Jalen then shifted back to me. “Our other friend here will be ‘Brute’.”
I heard two empty-headed laughs from the two empty-headed jocks behind me.
“He’ll be nothing more than a wall of meat,” Jalen taunted. Before I could insult him back, he instantly shut me up. “MC 1001, engage Modification Mode, security bypass JALEN.”
“MC 1001, Modification Mode engaged, security bypass confirmed." My mouth was out of my control. I tried to fight back, reanimate myself by any means possible.
“Alright Duke, it’s your turn.”
“Same thing as last time, bruh.”
Disappointed, Jalen shifted back to Brock, “Got something else?”
I prayed Brock would not say anything too damaging “Make him huge dude,” he requested, putting me at ease before following up with: “And make him like a butler too.”
Jalen laughed, and if I could have I would have cried.
“Oh MC 1001,” Jalen merrily instructed. “Copy MC 1002’s personality frame and mainframe, and enhance body and clothes proportions to 1.5. ”
“Modifications downloading,” I stated, a sudden sinking emerging in my stomach. In moments, I sprung upwards towards the ceiling, my height soaring above the jocks to an astonishing six and a half feet. Muscles exploded out of my body, bloating me thick with bulk. My arms were plump and my hands meaty. Two juicy pecs larger than my head were now carried by my absolute barrel of a chest, stretched out and taut. My legs were colossal, so dense that I would permanently be forced to take wide, swaggering steps. Even my neck thickened, supporting my newly masculinized skull.
“Copy and paste procedure successful.” My voice was husky, low, deep and booming. “Body and clothes proportions at 1.5.”
“Look at his socks, bro,” I heard Brock snigger behind me. “Whattya think those stompers are?”
“Huhuhuh…I don’t know dude…maybe Size 15?”
“Looks like I missed something,” Jalen appeared disappointed. “MC 1001, reduce reproductive size to 3.”
“Redacting 4 base points from ‘Reproduction’.” I screamed, pleading for this to stop. But no words exited my mouth. Instead, I remained painfully silent as I felt my cock and balls shrivel down within my shorts. 
“Helps with the obedience factor” Jalen stated. “Now, let's lower cognitive abilities by 40 base points and independent identity to 15 base points. Install the ‘Security’ package to the mainframe, boost the ‘Obedience’ category to max potential, and add in keywords ‘Respect’, ‘Humility’, and ‘Subservience’."
I would not give up, I would not cave in. “Please confirm modifications to MC 1002?”
Jalen was finished with his game. “Confirm modifications, disengage Modification Mode, reengage total Operation Mode.”
After a moment, I blinked. My head felt fuzzy, empty, as if some great weight of responsibility had been removed. I dumbly chuckled to myself.
"Feeling good there, bro?” Jalen smiled. “Excited to serve us jocks?"
"Uhhhh, yeah bruh…be of service."
"Well said, Brute."
"Brute?" I smiled lazily. “What can I uh…do bro?”
"First, let’s get you in uniform.” Jalen signaled to Duke, who then tossed a black cap to me. I secured it backwards onto my head proudly.
“Now, clean the frat house from top to bottom. I’m talking dirty laundry in the machine, trash taken out, floors scrubbed–the whole deal. I want this place looking slick before the party starts tonight. Once you’re done with that, you can go patrol the lawn for any feds. Got all that?”
It took a while for me to process everything, but eventually the dumb grin came back to my face.
“Yeah bruh…whatever you need.”
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onelittlespiral · 16 days
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FML: Urged
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I think this was the photo that got me in. Of course I get the appeal now. But at the time I thought I was just messaging some other random torso on the apps. I was supposed to just be in and out, no strings attached. After all, he wasn’t my usual type. Looked like a roided out gym rat: bit of a gut; dark, wiry hair; and thick muscles. But muscles weren’t the thickest thing about him, and who was I to pass up a good time?
So I went over to his place. I wasn’t surprised when it was a loft above a small gym. Seemed like the ideal spot for the kind of guy. What I was not expecting was the apartment itself to be so…nice? Normal? I was prepared to get fucked on a twin-sized mattress on the floor, no frame, with sweaty clothes rotting around me. But the apartment had some character. He even offered me something to drink before we got started, in an actual glass. Maybe I needed to raise my standards. We chatted, flirted a bit as I finished my water and let things get hot from there. We kissed in the kitchen, made out in the living room, and worked our way back to his bedroom as sweatshirts, belts, shirts, pants, and straps trailed behind us.
As I positioned a pillow under myself, he took off his wife beater, the last barrier between us. The shirtless torso that seduced me was on full display as I rubbed his chest. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt engulfed by this bear of a man, skin electric where I felt his hair ticking my bare chest. My senses felt heightened as I tasted cheap beer on his breath and smelled a deep musk of sweat, cum, and Old Spice, more in line with what I had expected from him. He ran his calloused hands over my chest and abs before finally taking up position over my trembling body. I wanted him in a way I hadn’t felt since I was a teen. Normally I would want to talk a bit more, at least give a safe word. But as he surrounded me and I felt his presence, my brain flipped a switch as my body instinctively relaxed for him. There were no thoughts to be had as my mind was consumed by his rich scent, the pleasure of his cock slowly stretching out my ass, and his intense gaze set on my fluttering eyes. At last I felt his bush pressed against my clenching ass. He lingered for just a moment, every throb of his member sending shivers through my body. He leaned in and whispered, “You feeling good, baby?”
I could only moan a bit in response. Feeling his weight bear down on me and his cock in my ass left no room for words. He shoved his pit in my face and I instinctively took a deep huff. Any resistance and tension left in my body released. I felt filled by him, just a vessel for his use. I was about to stick out my tongue when he pulled back and repositioned himself. He held my shoulders as he began moving his hips.
As he slowly began to fuck me, I felt him reach new depths within myself.
“There you go, much better. Let yourself just float”
I couldn’t resist him even if I wanted to. His cock methodically jackhammering my hole had my body riding wave after wave of pleasure. Then, I felt him tense up a bit as his cock swelled just a bit more telling me what was to come. He buried it deep as a pressure built within myself. A few more thrust from him and I shot my load over his furry chest. My mind could no longer handle it. I slipped off into a void of pure bliss, as this stranger collapsed on top of me, feeling his damp fur against my body and filling my senses once again with his musk.
I woke up the next day back in my own bedroom. No one else around. No signs of trouble. No clue how I got back. If the whole experience hadn’t been so vivid, I would have thought I dreamt the whole thing. But as I rolled myself out of bed and into the bathroom, one change became very clear.
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Seemingly overnight I had lost my smooth skin and dirty blonde curls. In its place was hair. Thick, dark, course hair. It covered my chest, my arms, my back, even my crotch. I was shocked but, also, something else began to tickle at my brain. I took off my tank to get a better look at the forest. I flexed my muscles and admired the way it coated my chest and seemed to exaggerate its size. I hit a double bicep pose and smelled a familiar scent. The scent of sweat and heat and masculinity. My mind flooded with images of that night as my cock stood at attention. I shoved my face into my own pit as I bagan jacking off in front of the mirror, admiring my new body. It felt strange but satisfying, watching this stranger in the mirror mimic my every move as I lusted for him. I didn’t realize how far I had gone until I saw the stream hitting the mirror. It was hot, but something still didn’t feel right. As I cleaned up the restroom, I picked up my razor and considered cleaning myself up a bit. But as I lifted it to my face, I noticed my newly hairy pits. Exposing them, the scent of last night invaded my mind again and I couldn’t follow through. I finished getting dressed and I left for the day. With a busy schedule, maybe I could get some answers tomorrow. I think that was the last chance I had to do something, divert from the path laid out for me. But looking back, I don’t know if I would have changed a thing.
No day was as sharp a change as the first, but each morning as I looked myself in the mirror, something was a bit different. Maybe it was the sharpness of my jaw. Or were my pecs always this swoll? One week I swore my feet were growing larger. There is no way that they always slapped the ground like that. But my shoes always fit perfectly. Heck I may even need a new pair soon. My joggers were beat up as hell and reeked when I took them off after my Saturday runs. But soon it was the days that I couldn’t find anything that looked different that began to worry me most. Had I always thought so much about the bodies of the men around me? Did people always talk so fast? But as life slipped back into routine. Soon I began to question myself. Why had I worried so much about any changes? Things never actually seemed out of place, and I worked out hard to get these gains. I had been going to the gym for years and had spent tears perfecting my splits. After about two months. I stopped worrying at all. Until finally, one day I woke up and looked myself in the mirror, I saw the same man who greeted me for years.
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I was a sweaty gym rat. Always had been. Always would be. I took a deep huff of my own funk, and rubbed my muscles. But everything fell into place, something felt missing. I shouldn’t have to keep this godly body and musk to myself. For the first time in a while, I hopped onto the apps and started scanning through. God, all these old matches were terrible. Why did I used to have such a thing for those muscled-up college boys? They couldn’t grow a beard if their lives depended on it. Besides, I think I wanted someone a little more…submissive. Scrolling through, my eyes caught on this young 20-something twink. Something about him reminded me of someone…someone I used to know. His lithe body, tight curls, and skimpy clothes told me he was a bottom before I clicked on his profile. A few messages back and forth, and he was on his way.
He walked in the door and it was all I could do to contain myself. Something deep within me wanted my seed deep in his ass. I needed him to worship me. I wanted him to become just like me. I had no patience as my body acted on instinct. I stripped my shirt and calmly approached, placing my hand against the wall behind him. As my masculinity and musk washed over the twink, I watched as his eyes fluttered a bit and knew his mind was submitting.
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“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked plainly.
“Ye-yes, sir.”
I grinned as I understood fully now just what had happened to me, and the power I held. But watching this twink practically trembling in front of me, maybe I was even better than my captor had been.
I gave him a quick kiss as I lead him to my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to make another man in my image.
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onelittlespiral · 19 days
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New Recruit
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Luke was at a low point in his life. He’d graduated high school but wasn’t smart enough to get into college. He had tried working some retail jobs around but he never had the work ethic to last long in those. He had similar problems in other gigs. It had been months of him bumming around and his parents had finally had enough, he was officially out of their house. With few options left, he was desperate. While walking down the street one day he saw an ad for the military, boasting stable careers and plenty of benefits. He’d played a couple seasons of sports in school and felt like he might be able to at least pass the initial evaluation, and out of near desperation he decided to try and enlist.
He made his way to the army office nearby that had been listed in the ad, and to his surprise there was no trouble. They did a quick physical evaluation and he was good to go, ready to sign up for boot camp. Luke was nervous; there was no coming back from this point. He thought about it for a couple minutes while being stared down by the recruiter, realizing he really couldn’t think of a better option. And so he signed the contract, unsure of what was to come. 
Two weeks later he was on a bus out to the base to start his boot camp. Luke didn’t know what to expect; he’d heard numerous stories about how brutal this training would be to weed out people. The bus was filled with the strangest mix of people he’d ever seen. Some guys looked like they’d been using steroids since they were 12, some looked like they belonged in an accounting department, and some he just couldn't pin down. Regardless of who surrounded him, Luke felt out of place, and he was only growing more nervous as the bus sped through the dense woods. After what felt like hours they finally cleared the trees and he saw the huge fences that would enclose the next few months of his life.
The buses pulled into a large dirt clearing at the center of the base where they forced everybody out. A huge and built man addressed the new recruits with his booming voice.
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“Privates! Welcome to Fort Eagleton!” he shouted above the noise of disembarking men. “I am Drill Sergeant Thornton, and I’ll be in charge of whipping you lot into shape!”
Luke gulped, it looked like those rumors had been true. He was in for a world of hurt.
“You’ll be under my watch and command for the next ten weeks, learning what it takes to be a soldier. First, I want to see what I’m working with. Privates! See those chalk markings on the ground? Space yourselves on them for inspection!” 
His loud voice echoed across the clearing. The men all scrambled to stand in position, each on a chalk marking that were spaced four feet apart in a grid. Luke found an open one unfortunately near the front of the pack. He glanced nervously around at the others. Some were standing at the ready like they had been born for this, but the rest also looked around with worried looks on their faces. Their attention was brought back to the front by the thundering voice of the sergeant. 
“Listen up, privates! Here with me I have Corporal Evans, a prime example of what you should all strive to become in the next ten weeks!” The sergeant gestured to a tall and strong looking man next to him. Evans was at attention in full uniform, but Luke could tell the man was absolutely jacked underneath. He could see how the coat was straining against his huge, broad shoulders.
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“He is the epitome of a soldier, and what all men should model themselves after,” the sergeant continued. “I will make a real man out of each of you! That is my promise as your Drill Sergeant. However, some of you may take to that easier than others.” He began walking through the rows of men in plainclothes, observing each of them with scrutiny. Luke’s eyes went wide as the sergeant stopped directly in front of him.
“You, boy. What’s your name?” The sergeant did not quiet his voice even when right next to him. 
“Luke,” he said shakily, “Luke Peterson.”
“Private Peterson, you may have passed the exam to get here, but I hold doubts that you are up to the challenge that is basic training,” the sergeant said while making intense eye contact. “Do you think you have what it takes to become a soldier?”
“Yes.. sir,”
“Well! Let’s put that to the test,” he boomed again. “Evans! Bring me this private’s new uniform.”
Within seconds, the man was at his side holding a folded army uniform. Thornton took it and handed it to Luke.
“Put this on, boy! Let’s see how you’ll fit in here,” he said with an almost sinister twinkle in his eyes. 
Luke had no choice but to then strip down to his underwear in the middle of the crowd. The eyes of the dozens of men he had entered with were burning holes in him as he changed into the fatigues. They immediately felt too large for him but he continued as the sergeant watched impatiently. He pulled up and belted the pants before buttoning the shirt closed. They were at least two or three sizes too big, Luke thought, and he looked ridiculous in the oversized fatigues. He laced up his boots which were also excessively large and stood back up to address the sergeant’s burning gaze.
Out of nowhere, Luke suddenly felt like he’d taken a punch straight in his stomach. He collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, gasping for air as the pain in his stomach did not lessen, but began to spread. His torso felt like it was on fire, and he groaned in distress as his body was overwhelmed. Everyone else in the clearing was watching in awe as Luke’s body began to grow. His spine lengthened slowly, back widening and shoulders broadening. His legs began to stretch and grow longer, adding a good eight inches to his height. He began packing on muscle like he’d been working out for a decade, limbs inflating in seconds adding strength and size. His chest pushed out into two meaty pecs, which finally caught Luke’s attention from the incredible soreness he felt as his body exploded in size. His eyes widened as he watched his own body fill out the fatigues that had moments ago been far too large, arms swelling to fill the sleeves and chest pushing against the now tight shirt. His legs also bulked up, adding 20 pounds of muscle as quads and hamstrings grew in and thickened. His feet expanded, pushing against his large boots. He felt a sharp pain shoot through his jaw as it widened, giving him a square and masculine face. The pain began to subside and Luke managed to stand back up, this time matching the sergeant in height. 
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The drill sergeant addressed him, “Good start soldier.” He had a hint of a grin on his stern face.
Luke was angry and confused, “What the hell was that? What did you do to me? What do you mean good start…” His sentence trailed off as he felt an intense tingling feeling arise on his chest. Underneath his tight uniform shirt, in the center of his massive pecs, tiny brown hairs began to poke out of his skin. The hairs started out thin and wispy but quickly thickened as they grew longer, spreading out across Luke’s mountainous chest muscles. The hairs erupted across the expanse, burying the skin under a dense layer of fur as they grew thicker, longer, and tangled together. Especially dark hairs sprouted around his sensitive nipples, causing Luke to let out a moan as he brought his hands up to massage them. The crowd watching Luke was stunned at his actions in front of the sergeant. Some of the men closest to him could see what looked like thick hairs beginning to poke out from above his shirt collar. The fur on his chest had spread up across his collarbone and had started peeking up onto his neck, where it was finally visible. The sergeant stood watching with a smirk as Luke was lost in a world of pleasure, rubbing his nipples as hair began taking over his body. The hair was not confined to just his chest, and shot down south across his stomach, coating his new abs and muscle in the same thick rug. The hair was growing in so densely that it started to push out through cracks and seams in his uniform. 
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The other privates were speechless watching this erotic display in front of them, not knowing what to do. A few noticed Corporal Evans, who was standing behind the drill sergeant, subtly mimicking Luke’s actions, seemingly lost in his own bodily pleasures as his hands roamed his body. Luke’s breaths grew louder as the hairs continued climbing up his thick neck, creating a river of hair traveling up from his chest to his square jaw. He’d never had much stubble before, just some light peach fuzz, but that was changing. The soft hairs were overrun with thick, wiry, testosterone-fueled growth that coated his jaw in an incredibly dense beard. His upper lip was next, first darkening with the shadow of thick stubble before the hairs pushed out and completed the full beard on his face. Luke’s hands moved upwards, stroking his fingers through the long wiry hairs that now covered the lower half of his face. His eyes closed as the pleasurable sensation began to control his actions, wanting to experience every ounce of this growth. The beard growth was very noticeable to the crowd as well, as men further away began to break formation and inch closer to see what was happening to Luke. Evans was in the back, feeling the scratchy stubble on his own face as it pushed out a couple millimeters, just enough to leave a dark five o’clock shadow.
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Unbeknownst to the crowd, Luke’s body was continuing to change under his uniform. Luke could feel every new hair sprout out of him as the hairs spread, conquering more of his newly buff body. His armpits tingled as the follicles there went into overdrive, pumping out hair after hair. What had previously been a sparse grouping of hairs quickly became a thick tuft of sweaty, musky hair. Dark and wiry hairs pushed out of bare skin, spreading out and covering his pits in a full manly bush, already dense enough to trap his body sweat and stench. Luke stuck one hand into his shirt to scratch the growing forest in his pit before pulling it out and smelling his fingers. He shivered from the euphoric smell of his own musk that was only growing more potent. The pit hairs continued to spread and even connected with his chest hair, creating a seamless rug across his whole upper body. 
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The wave of hair growth continued advancing across his muscular body, with hairs beginning to pop up across his broad shoulders. They were joined by more and more hairs, giving Luke a thick coating across his traps. The hairs began to crawl down his brawny back, knitting a rug as they grew thick and tangled across his shoulder blades. As the hairs advanced down his spine they also began covering his arms, where long dark hairs were pushing out across his triceps before utterly engulfing his forearms in dark fur. Luke watched as the thick hairs poked out of his sleeves, ensuring anyone would know even in full uniform how hairy he was under there. That is, if they didn’t notice his large, calloused hands, which had their own small carpet of hairs sprouting across the backs. Luke could feel as the hairs creeping down his back reached the bottom, where a bushy tuft sprouted up just above his waistband. He subconsciously knew what was next, and moments later he was overcome with bliss as his thick ass cheeks sprouted their own rug of dense curly hairs. He could feel how the thickest, longest, and darkest hairs were pushing out of his crack, and he reached his hand into his pants to feel the silky fur that filled the gap. As all eyes were on Luke, Corporal Evans was still engaged in his own stimulation, feeling his pit hairs push out a little more, his back get a little more hairy, and his ass plump up just a bit more.
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Luke felt his now size 16 feet heat up in his boots, beginning to grow itchy. Hairs were crawling out of the tops of his massive feet, popping out of his thick toes shortly after. The hairs climbed up his thick legs from his feet, coating his calves in dark hairs before engulfing his massive thighs. The hairs came in thicker and darker as they neared his groin, where his formerly modest bush began to double, then triple in size. Thick pubes were sprouting up all across his crotch, enveloping the area in a dense forest of curly hairs. Luke let out another moan at the sensation and shoved both his hands into his pants. He felt the coarse hairs sprouting through his fingers as his bush continued to spread outward. His cock began gushing precum before it too began to grow. It had almost been swallowed up by the immense bush, but now it hardened and pushed out, growing longer and thicker. Luke grasped his growing member and felt the hair climbing up the shaft as it continued to push further out of his bush. He felt his balls swell in size and drop a little farther down, becoming coated in hairs just like the rest of his groin. 
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Luke was overcome with euphoria, and the animalistic instincts took full control as he began stroking his nine inch cock with both hands, each pump blasting his brain and body with pleasure. The sergeant and everyone else watched as Luke jacked off to his own transforming body right in front of them, stunned into silence. Corporal Evans, still unnoticed, slid his own hand into his pants to deal with his rock hard problem. Luke kept at it, moaning louder and louder as precum poured out of his cock. Every stroke seemed to make him grow just a tad bit larger, just a little hairier. Finally, after a few minutes of being overcome by pure ecstasy, he erupted, a fountain of cum spraying out covering his new uniform in sticky white semen. Some of it even got on the sergeant, who seemed unfazed. Evans grunted quietly as he pumped a massive load directly into his jockstrap that he had on under his uniform. He wasn’t prepared for quite how large it would be, leaving a wet spot on the front of his trousers and leaking down his leg. Luke panted as his mind returned to his body, finally taking stock of the situation and realizing in a moment of panic what had happened.
Before he could say anything Sergeant Thornton started to laugh. His roaring laughter pierced the awkward silence that had overtaken the space for the last while. He walked over to Luke and slapped him on the back.
“Atta boy! That’s what I like to see,” He said to Luke with an uncharacteristic smile. The crowd was shocked. That was not the response they’d expected in the slightest. 
“You’re fit to be a real soldier now, and I trust you’ll serve us well. A fine specimen!” he turned to the crowd. “Look here, privates! This is a real man, a bastion of strength and masculinity who can take a beating and give some hell.”
Luke too was stunned. He was scrambling to process what had just happened to him, and that it was seemingly planned by the sergeant the whole time. His thoughts were cut short by the sergeant addressing him again.
“Well son, you’ve done good today. We’ll have to clean up that scruff of yours to get you in regulation,” he stroked Luke’s new beard with his hand, sending a bolt of lightning directly to his still semi-erect cock. “Corporal Evans will help you out with that, and with cleaning up your fatigues,” he said as Evans approached from behind. Luke noticed the darker stubble on his face and the dark splotch in his bulging crotch. 
The drill sergeant once again spoke to the crowd, “The rest of you will be assigned living quarters and shown the areas for training. I want you all back here at exactly 1300 hours!”
Evans ushered Luke away from the grounds and into his own private quarters, where he stripped out of his cum soaked uniform and finally got a look at himself. He was taller, absolutely built, and incredibly hairy. It turned him on in a way he never knew he could be, his cock once again rising to full mast. He rubbed his hands through all of his new fur, unable to believe what he was seeing.
“I was in your shoes when I enlisted,” Evans said to him. Luke turned to face him and saw a slight blush in his cheeks, and his bulge was even more noticeable. “I’ll make sure you get cleaned up and everything, but how about first we just enjoy the new you in its raw form,” he said, stepping right up to Luke and wrapping his hand around Luke’s cock. Lost for words, Luke pulled off Evans’ hat and leaned in for a kiss, grabbing his bulge and pushing him against the wall.
Maybe bootcamp wouldn’t be that bad.
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This was my longest and most ambitious story yet! Hope y'all enjoy it and thank you for nearly 400 followers in just a month! Feel free to dm or send an ask if you have ideas for future stories.
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onelittlespiral · 26 days
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The Fog
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Felix knew he shouldn’t go outside, it wasn’t safe. All the news stations in the area were constantly broadcasting that a fog has swept into the valley and since it appeared four days ago people have been going missing. The rumor is that there are monsters in the fog, people can hear groans and grunts out in the fog but anyone who has gone to explore where they are coming from has been consumed by the fog and hasn’t come back out. The weirdest thing of all is that the fog is green, its a light green color that has a lingering stench which has been slowly filling the house Felix is holding up in. Felix was with his girlfriend at her place when the fog came through, he was going to just head home after it cleared but it has been days and it hasn’t let up. At one point Felix was just going to walk home, given that he lived only a twenty minute walk from her place, but when he opened the door the fog started to rush in and fill the foyer with a rancid smell. Quickly closing the door he moved away from the stench, but that was two days ago and he needs to go take care of his cat, his roomate normally does when he isn’t home but with people going missing he can't be sure that anyone is there to watch Mittens. His girlfriend pleaded with him not to go out but Felix gathered all his stuff anyways. To make her feel better, and truthfully to make him feel a bit better, he went and found a face mask in her bathroom. Now ready to go he headed over to his place promising to return, he would come back with some food and water, and Mittens, if all goes off without a hitch.
During the walk which felt like it took forever, as he wandered through the thick green fog that limited his vision to just a foot or two in front of him, Felix could constantly hear the groaning and grunts that the news stations mentioned. They were accompanied with sounds of metal clanging and what sounded like deep, dull laughter. Luckily the entire journey was uninterrupted, Felix made it to his apartment in perfect condition. Coming up to the lobby of the building Felix could see that the glass doors were smashed and the fog filled the common area. Worrying for his furry friend he hurried over the shattered glass on the floor and through the lobby to the stairwell, not wanting to take a chance with the elevator. Walking through the lobby he heard it again, a low, guttural groan that sounded closer than all the others he heard on the way over. Looking around fearfully, he saw a huge monstrous sized man stretched out on the floor stirring in his sleep. Hastening his step Felix made it to the stairwell and rushed up the stairs to the fourth floor.
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Coming upon his fourth floor apartment he was struck with a sense on confusion as he went to unlock the door to find it was left a little ajar. Quietly going inside, he sees the kitchen is much messier than normal, there are clothes all over the floor, and half the shoes on the shoe rack are at least a size 13. Searching around for his cat and trying to make as little noise as possible he comes up to his roommate's closed door, about to open it without thinking he looks down quickly and sees wisps of the smoke coming out of the room. Not wanting to reenter the fog, Fleix leaves the door closed and heads to the bathroom to continue the search. As he searches high and low in the bathroom, unbeknownst to him, the roommate’s door opens and Felix’s roommate comes out to find the source of the noise that is disturbing his nap. “What are you doing in my apartment pipsqueak?” Felix hears from behind him, “Andy! Thank god you're here! I can't find Mittens anywhere!” Felix says, turning around as he mentions Mittens. “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” Felix blurts out having turned around and been met with a huge hunk who is big enough to look like he could have eaten his roommate and smells like he just farted his roommate back out…
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“Broooooooo” Andy groans “Who are you? This isn’t your place mannnnn. And why are you looking for Mittens? Mittens is my boyfriend's cat.”, “This IS my place and you don’t live here! I think you are in the wrong place!” Felix says scared to death of the huge stranger just a few feet away. “Huhuhuh you sound just like my roommate bro, you kinda look like him too, just…ya know he is more like me” Andy tells him, completely ignoring what he just said. “Eh whatever” Andy shrugs, “I think it’s time for you to go” Andy starts moving forward and reaches out to Felix. Felix tries to duck from the outstretched hand but his lithe movement doesn’t best the giant’s brute force, grabbing Felix by the shoulder Andy pulls Felix away and out of the bathroom and starts towards the door. Being pulled closer to the hunk Felix catches more than just a whiff of his funk. Between gags Felix pleads “PLEASE! PLEASE! NO THIS IS MY APARTMENT I NEED TO FIND MY CAT!” feeling pity on the weakling he is holding Andy bestows mercy upon Felix. “Uhhh okay sure you can look for your dumb cat but I'm gonna just stay here and watch.” Andy says audibly annoyed. Without saying a word he began looking around again for Mittens hoping he can find her before this reeking giant behind him loses his patience. After about ten minutes of looking, the entire time he can hear the hunk constantly fiddling around, making sounds of annoyance, and chuckling every time he belches out a blast of bad breath. Felix finally ends up in his roommate's bedroom, being the last place to look.
As Felix searches around in the blinding fog he finds the source of it, Andy left his window open and the fog has just been filling the room for days now. Mittens probably got out through the window. He starts to worry he wont find his cat. Felix hears the hunk clear his throat and say to himself “I'm bored, I want my boyfriend.” Felix feels his large sweaty hand grab the nape of his neck once more and before Felix can say a word he lifts Felix up and rips the mask off of him. “NO I NEED THA-“ Buh-UUUuuuuurpppp
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The hunk belches right into Felix’s open mouth. Being completely caught off guard by this show of masculine power, he gasps in suddenly filling his lungs with the dense, stinking fog and the giants horrid breath. Immediately having a violent coughing fit from the unnatural scent that has just penetrated into his body, the giant drops the scrawny bro to the floor. Felix can't help but inhale more fog as he tries to stop the coughing, as the fog fills more of his lungs it slowly also begins to fill the rest of his body. It fills his feet enlarging them so that they’re able to hold up a mass of muscle like the one who has just subjected him to this torture, his legs grow massive and muscley as his ass begins to inflate along side his legs. Felix’s hole begins to loosen up and his cheeks grow in respectable, hairless, beach balls that lightly clap behind him with every step. In the front a transformation was also occurring, changing Felix’s long. cut skinny-boy-dick into a shorter but chubbier uncut, cheesy, schlong. Felix’s tummy changes just a little, turning from a tough four pack into a soft tummy perfect for filling up from behind or resting your head on after a sensual “exercise” session. Felix tried to grab his stomach as it changed, as if that would stop the transformation. As Felix clutched his stomach his chest began to inflate into soft pecs more akin to pillows than true pectorals. And his arms followed suit, expanding into fatty tissue more than muscled mounds, soft and pliable muscles that are still capable of lifting up boulders. Felix felt a wild itching sensation in both of his armpits at the same time, as he moved one of his small hands to hopefully cease the itching he was met with a forest of hair invading his once always shaven pits. Shocked by this he ripped his hand away for just a second. Immediately his hands, much like his feet enlarged, his fingers fattened up and expanded and his palms became hugely swollen compared to his previously dainty hands. Felix felt his coughing die down and thinking he would finally be able to catch his breath was again caught off guard by another coughing attack. All while this is happening, standing above the himbofying Felix is the hunk that started the transformation, watching silently and groping his own cheesy, unwashed dick. Felix in the grasps of his second coughing fit heard his nose crack and felt it shift into a new form, changing from a longer nose with a more rounded end into a shorter, flatter nose, perfect for sticking it into an unwashed armpit or smelly crotch. He felt his eyes become slimmer and his eyebrows grow more hair than ever, and he felt as his mouth transformed into a perfect set of teeth holding back a large thick tongue perfectly for cleaning the funk off of someone’s feet. Keeping the newly minted tongue and teeth hidden was a pair of lips inflating into the best dick sucking lips ever. Felix could feel his sharp, cut jaw expand into a squarer and softer jawline that melted into his ever growing neck that needed to match the intake his plump lips would now be inviting. The last change was his hair as it turned from cute light brown curls into a mop of dark brown hair that crowned Felix’s perfect himbo body.
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Felix, unable to escape the coughing fit, felt a throbbing in his head as he continued to writhe around on the floor of the fog-filled bedroom. His giant hands moved to grasp his big manly head. The fog had finally begun melting away his brain. Seeing this happen the hunk hovering above him got between Felix’s thunder thighs and unbuttoned Felix’s khakis, suctioning his mouth onto Felix's unwashed himbo dick, the giant began to suck which alleviated Felix’s throbbing headache. For a second the thought came across Felix’s mind that this stranger shouldn’t be sucking him off like this, but just as quickly as the thought came to him, he felt it sucked down and out of his brain. He felt this happening for all the thoughts he kept having about what was happening to him, but all of them kept disappearing until Felix simply stopped thinking and let blissful stupidity take over his mind. Soon the stupidity began to encroach onto pre-existing knowledge, Felix’s knowledge of advanced mathematical formulas got sucked into his sack and replaced with knowledge of how to douche and knowledge of physics melted down into cum and instead was replaced with knowledge of how to move his ass and hips to make his bros cum quicker. Soon not a single intelligent thought would be left behind, all replaced with dumb, gay thoughts making Felix the perfect fucktoy. The last thought Felix would have was “Why do I know so much gay stuffffff…Does my girlfriend like this?” Before he could even comprehend an answer his memories would start to dissolve into his sticky white seed. His years spent taking advanced courses in school turned into every summer being spent in summer school, him taking his girlfriend’s virginity became his ass being filled for the first time by his boyfriend Andy, and the years spent training to try and be a D1 Soccer player turned into wrestling other sweaty guys for hours every day. Soon just like his thoughts and knowledge every memory would be lost to the sticky sea in his balls. As the pressure in his brain built to its peak Felix felt his hips begin to buck into his boyfriend’s mouth, soon all that was Felix before he was himbofied was churning in his balls and then shot into the smelly hunk sucking on his dick, his once bright brown eyes fading like his brain into a dim, dull brown. With that the dazed himbo lays on the floor catching his breath. Getting up first Andy reches down and grabs Felix’s hand lifting him up, and in one swift motion lifts Felix’s arm into the air revealing his armpit. Leaning in for a sniff Andy forces his nose right into the forest of dark hair. Only catching a whiff of cheap AXE body spray, Andy pushes his boyfriend back onto his ass and pulls his own sweatpants down revealing his ass. “Wha-?” PFFFFBBBBTTTTT Felix starts to say as he is met with a direct hit to the face with a potent stream of gas. Becoming super dazed Felix barely knows what just happened as he is hit with another, this time wetter blast BWOMPPFFFFF. Having his hair pushed back Felix feels the stench cover his entire body, assisted by the fog and ass blast Felix finishes the last part of his himbofication. Felix’s large feet are incapable of wafting off any scent other than the buttery funk that has corrupted all of his shoes and the scent of the apartment. The gas going into Felix’s body through his mouth and nose reaches Felix’s gut giving it the ability to release butt blasts and malodorous burps. His armpits fill in with the purest himbo-stink, which quite literally contributes to the fog's green hue and absolutely rotten scent.
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“Heh-Heh! Babe your butt stinks something awfullll” Felix dully says. Pulling up Felix once more Andy smells Felix’s armpit and grimaces and then dim-witted laughter burst out “Huhuhuhuhuh! You smell worse than my farts on a good day right now babe!” Andy kisses Felix and lets out a little burp into his mouth as he does so. “Huhuh. We really should help spread the fog to some un-himbofied weaklings around town.” Andy whispered to Felix. Thinking hard for a second, it slowly comes to Felix, the address he just came from is floating around in his brain, “Huhuh, just follow me babe, I know a place” Felix says to Andy. They both leave the bedroom and go grab their shoes on the shoe rack, now all the shoes are a comically large size and all reek of movie theater butter and a teenager boy’s feet that haven’t been washed in months. Slipping on the shoes without socks to maximize their stink Felix leads the way out of the apartment.
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onelittlespiral · 29 days
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Psych Should Not Be Required
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I’m a long time reader of so, so many creators here and other male transformation sites and I’ve finally decided to try and write some transformative fiction myself. This is my first time writing something indulgent like this and I hope you enjoy!
-Occam
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Jacob was a senior year engineering student and he was not pleased at the task that lies ahead of him. He had sailed through all the required advanced physics and material design courses for his major. He is well ahead of the curve in all the classes that matter to him. The only course with work left to complete is his final general education requirement; Psychology 101. He simply could not bring himself to respect this freshman level course. Because of this he missed that all participants were required to take part in research for the psychology department in order to get full credit, which must do lest he have a blemish in his otherwise perfect educational career.
This means he must sign up to participate in the only experiment that remains open; taking a quiz after testing some kind of nose spray. He’s no expert in psychology but he is willing to wager it’s some kind of hormonal test, maybe it will be a dose of pregnenolone before some kind of memory test. Jacob then considers something even further afield and blushes, it could be testosterone? It isn't that novel to use the memory hormone for a memory test after all. Jacob continues to blush as he rides the elevator up to the lab thinking about using a testosterone spray, he has never felt terribly masculine. In high school he was allowed to bypass even the most basic physical education requirements so he could strengthen his already overly rigorous course schedule. He huffs to himself as he wishes he was able to weasel his way out of this psychology class, he’d much rather be back in his dorm, eager to do anything than waste more time on a general course requirement.
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Upon making it to the lab Jacob sees another student waiting outside. A similar mousy type to himself, although a little older and to Jacob’s eye quite a bit cuter. Jacob assumes he must be a psychology graduate student as he introduces himself as Hasan. Hasan compliments Jacob’s hoodie, wishing he had worn a similar one since the lab is pretty drafty, before leading Jacob into the room and has him fill out a questionnaire mainly consisting of information about Jacob and his lifestyle. As Jacob begins to fill it out he starts chatting with Hasan who goes to prepare the nasal spray that is sitting at a table across the way.
“So what is this experiment after all? The application only said I was taking a quiz and trying some nasal spray. Am I allowed to know what it is?”
Hasan smiles a little uncomfortably, “actually I don’t even know what it is. This little study is double blind so I’m basically just a tech. This could be a placebo for all I know.”
Jacob rolls his eyes, knowing his luck it definitely is a placebo. His groundless hopes have been dashed but perhaps not all is lost. He had no idea if Hasan was also gay but he was certainly cute, and Jacob, too smart for his own good was not confident in his abilities to flirt, would try and please him in the only way he knew how; filling out a quiz with haste. He scribbles through the quiz, quickly jotting down his major and hobbies and as soon as he finishes he calls out and offers the completed form to Hasan. 
“Okay now that we’re done with that.” Hasan starts as he makes his way to Jacob holding the spray, “It’s time for the awkward part.” Hasan puts his hand behind Jacob’s head and asks him to lean back which Jacob does, flinching when he feels Hasan’s hand as the two of them prepare for uncomfortable intimacy. “I’ll just go ahead and,” pausing as he gets ready to use whatever this spray is on Jacob, “do it!”
Jakob immediately sneezes, and Hasan flinches back. Which is weird, Jakob usually doesn’t sneeze when he uses his allergy spray? But no? Does he have allergies? He gets lost in his own head briefly, not hearing Hasan apologize for the discomfort as he continues to chat and make his way to the desk opposite Jakob’s to start the quiz proper.
“Okay! Are you ready for question one!” Hasan eagerly awaits Jakob’s response which swiftly comes. Although his mind is swimming, Jakob cannot allow a chance to answer a question pass him by. He nods and grunts in affirmation. Although it sounds as if something is stuck in his throat? He takes effort to clear it and does not notice as his Adam's apple bobs just a bit further out of his neck and his voice, to anyone but himself, grows perceptively deeper.
“Looks like it starts with a few unnecessary ones, so we can just blast through them! Your name is Jacob of course, right?”
“Correct,” Jakob replies without pause scratching his cheek. His own name flashes into his head, but he would have sworn it was spelled differently. Obviously though, he would not misspell his own name. He continues to scratch his sideburns, slowing down as he remains lost in his own head, not noticing as his face is no longer clean shaven. “That's with a K, right?” he asks Hasan.
Hasan, confused, looks towards the questionnaire absolutely  sure it was spelled with a C and instead sees something completely different written on the questionnaire. Clear as day the name that Jakob has written down was Jake. Hasan, off-put by his mistake, looks back at Jakob and notices that he has quite a bit of stubble around his jawline and chin, making his whole face look sharper than Hasan remembered it being when he walked in. Clearly he was not being nearly perceptive enough today. Embarrassed to have somehow already messed up this study, Hasan quickly asks Jakob.
“So you prefer to go by Jake?”
Jake, the itch on his face now sated, starts scratching the center of his chest as his chinstrap beard continues to fill out. “Yeah, that’s what I wrote, right bud?” Hasan looks further on in the questionnaire, embarrassed as he knows the actual study administrator is watching as he waffles. In this pause Jake, now feeling uncomfortably warm in his hoodie, begins to stretch. Moaning as he extends his arms and legs farther than they have ever stretched before. He exposes his midriff to Hasan who quickly looks away not noticing as Jake begins to sprout a happy trail that rapidly expands across the whole of Jake's lower stomach. Perhaps Hasan should familiarize himself with the questionnaire before continuing. He thinks as he deliberately avoids looking towards the suddenly more attractive man across from him.
Jake pulls down his hoodie, not missing the opportunity to scratch his crotch while his hand was down there. He finishes stretching by puffing out his chest and feels a pop as his pecs quickly expand outwards. The flat chest he has seen his entire life in the briefest moments he spent unclothed looking in the mirror is now gone. He looks stubbornly down at his chest which presses out just further than his thin stomach. One last time Jake is able to question this situation. Jake knows that he should not have pecs. He is a nerd. He could count the number of push ups he has done his entire life on both hands. Right? When could he have worked enough to get this chest? He grows distracted questioning his reality before pausing as he realizes his right hand is stuffed in his pants. 
The heat in the room starts to get to him as he looks past his chest, something he must do now, and sees that his hand is firmly planted in his briefs. He is scratching at his pubes directly in front of Hasan who thankfully has not looked up as Jake rips his hand out of his briefs. Almost instinctively bringing it up to his face before balking and growing warmer in the face.
“Do you smell that?” Hasan asks succinctly, not noticing Jake shake stray pubes off his hand as he continues reading Jake’s questionnaire.
“Smell what br-” Jake starts before sniffing to find the scent and immediately notice someone’s incredibly pervasive body odor starting to fill the room. It’s as if some muscle brained maniac were standing right next to him immediately after working out. He quickly looks around wondering how he has missed an oaf wandering in. Before freezing as he remembers that he forgot to put deodorant on today.
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Well, not forgot, Jake never wears deodorant? He doesn’t need it. He barely sweats and as he does he doesn’t have any pit hair to trap it he has never had an issue before. He confidently looks down to inspect his pits and notices sweat stains larger and darker than he has seen on anyone covering the underarms of his hoodie. Shocked, he quickly smells his pits and discovers that he is of course the source of this body odor that would put a lineman to shame. He then thoughtlessly scratches his armpits, getting the smell all over his hands as he blushes and apologizes, “Shit dude, I’m sorry. I don’t usually wear deodorant. It’s hotter than I thought it’d be in a lab huh.” Unbeknownst to the increasingly sweaty man his pits start to get even hairier under the hoodie as he furrows his thickening brows and scratches even harder to get through the pit hair. “It’s not usually an issue though… It’s not like I work out or anything.” 
Hearing this Hasan is taken aback, “Oh sorry, I don’t mean to embarrass you, but you did write down that you just came from the gym, is that not true?” Jake suddenly has a flash of what must be a memory. He was at the gym all morning getting a pump before heading out with his bro,  “Oh yeah I didn't I” and Jake sneezes once more. 
Hasan watches and cries out as Jak sneezes and his pecs burst even farther out of his chest. His arms completely fill out his hoodie, Hasan swears he can see veins pushing against the fabric. There is a quick tearing sound as Jak’s sudden growth rips his jacket in several places. Under the desk, where Hasan can’t see, Jak’s crotch similarly fills out as Jake sneezes again, moaning even deeper than before. “Sorry bro I’m a triple sneezer I guess,” as he laughs and continues, “I’m gonna go ahead and take my jacket off bro, it’s hot as balls in here.”
Hasan watches as Jak struggles to worm his way out of a jacket that he would have sworn was too large for him when he walked in. He gets half way out of it before standing up to try a different approach. Hasan, now aware that something impossible and horrifying is happening, starts backing away in fear. He can’t help but stare at Jak, unquestionably knowing this is not the student that walked into the room with him. Hasan, once again, sees Jak’s exposed midriff now with abs accompanying the copious amount of hair spilling up from his crotch. 
Jak is now wearing a tank top that he can’t imagine he has ever worn before. But he laughs thinking about how he rarely wears anything else. No better way to show off his pecs and biceps he thinks as he instinctively flexes, arms above his head as he still struggles to get out of the hoodie. As he does so he sneezes once more. Hasan now back against the wall watches enraptured as his pecs push the tank top to its limit and his pits grow even hairier. “Ain’t you gonna bless me bro?” He guffaws at Hasan, unable to see him through the upturned hoodie. “Or are you just distracted by the show.” He then fully rips the jacket in half and tosses it to the floor. Smirking at Hasan, Jak begins to ask if he’s scared of a real man before he feels the heat now shift to his crotch. His hand quickly followed it  directly into his briefs.
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Hasan fails to stay calm as he watches Jak adjust his bulge before deeply sniffing his hand. “Jak we need to get help right now something is terribly wrong with you if-”
Jak then interrupts with a clever, “what am I too swole for you,” laughing more than would be reasonable even in pleasant circumstances. He then grimaces as he notices an extreme discomfort in his shoes. He swore he was wearing socks when he came in but now he sees only his ratty tennis shoes, filled almost to bursting as hair continues to thicken down his legs, concentrated on his inner thighs, and an equally appalling scent begins to stream upward from his sweat stained shoes, “ugh bro, can I take these off they’re wicked tight?” 
Hasan, his head now growing similarly hazy from the amount of Jax’s musk filling the room, forgets why he is cowering against the wall and begins to inch forward to sneak a look at Jax’s feet. Just in time as Jax produces a powerful groan that Hasan swears he feels in his own chest, as Jax stretches his toes and they shoot out of the front of his already overworked tennis shoes. His nails are untrimmed and his toes are covered in hair that remind Hasan of some book he read but can't recall. Jake bends down to rip the rest of his shoes off and instead a tearing sound reverberates from his ass as it struggles to keep pace with Jax’s massive upper body. After exposing the rest of his massive almost fur covered feet, Hasan watches as Jax tears off his pants leaving him only wearing his skin tight tank top and sweat-drenched briefs that are physically sagging due to the weight now present in Jax’s crotch. 
Hasan gasps seeing the large bulge in Jax’s crotch pulse outward. Taking in such a large of the musk filled air without thinking, Hasan completely loses himself, going blank in the eyes and all too similarly he begins to scratch his chin and struggle to remember what he is supposed to be doing. Before he does though Jax comes to whatever of his own sense remains and laughs in an all too jocular way, “sorry bruh, if I had known how massive my pump was I would have brought a change of clothes,” he moves his hairy paw to cover his bulging crotch barely able to squeeze his hand around it as it pulses once more pubes spilling out in every direction and he moans once more. 
“Did you uh, want to get back to your lab thingy or whatever bro?” Seeing Hasan is unresponsive to this he walks up and puts the hand not trying to contain his growing cock on Hasan’s shoulder. As Hadan continues to aimlessly scratch his chin as thick black hair begins to peak out from between his fingers. He squints his eyes and clenches his jaw as it pushes outward. He feels Jax’s hand on his shoulder and rolls it uncomfortably, groaning. Jax growing concerned for his little bro calls out “Hadan? Is everything alright bruh?”
Hearing this sinks Hadan even deeper into his own mind as what he thought he knew rapidly fades. He does not remember the quiz. He does not remember the nasal spray. He does not know why he is in this lab. He doesn’t know a single reason he would ever be in a lab. Was it always this warm in here? Why is Jax looking at him like that? Did he just call me Hadan? Hadan sneezes though is far too gone to understand why that would even be concerning. Besides the fact that he just sneezed on his bro. 
“Ugh, sorry bro. Looks like I just sneezed on you,” Hadan quickly does so again and shoots up nearly a foot in height now able to make direct eye contact with the massive jock in front of him. “All good Hayden, I was sneezing first anyway huh. Hope I didn’t get you sick!” Jax does a full body laugh at this, letting go of Hayden’s shoulder as it jolts up and the bicep beneath forces itself into existence, midnight dark hair quickly shadowing the full length of Hayden’s arm. 
Jax finds himself staring at Hayden’s arm as veins rush across its length criss-crossing, almost pulsing, remembering his bros' maxes being higher and higher as the seconds pass. His tongue begins to loll out of his mouth as he sniffs the air, now fully able to smell Hayden’s body odor mingling with his own and he loses the battle with his impossibly strained briefs. He feels lightheaded as even more blood rushes from his head and he continues to take in the increasing masculinity in front of him, drool starting to pool in his mouth as a deep hunger begins to take over his mind. Hayden feels a similar explosion brewing in him as he stares straight ahead into the hungry eyes of Jax in front of him.
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As Hayden’s desires increase so too does his body expand, at an even more rapid pace than Jax’s minutes-long transformation. He feels his chest burst through his shirt, his nipples scratching against the cheap fabric. His pants tear out in every direction as his boxers struggle to conceal the packages at both ends. He starts to reposition an arm which sends a tear across the back of his shirt revealing the hair beginning to inch up his back from beneath his boxers. Just like his bro before him he looks down to see his shoes pinching his feet. Wondering why he put on shoes that are comically too small he laughs as the laces on his converse burst upward and he just lifts his hairy feet to kick them off.
He runs his hand across his abs feeling the hair covering them as he inches downwards, noticing how sore his muscles are, he begins to stretch and groan. Much to the delight of Jax, who can't take his eyes away as Hayden almost shows off all the hard work he must have done to get such a powerful body. 
At this point Jax reaches his arm to Hayden once more and the two of them feel shockingly present. All the stupor that this musky room has pushed into them almost immediately evaporates as they realize that they are not just bros. The two of them had been simple workout bros for years. Before realizing that if they started fucking they could get an extra massive workout in each night, and so they have done more nights than not since they dropped out of university.
The only remaining question to the two jocks was what were they doing in this room? Hayden stretches an arm behind his head trapping Jax’s attention in his jungle of pit hair as he does his best to put two and two together. Why would they be in a room ass and cock out besides one of their tried and true workout sessions. 
Only one thing to do then Hayden decides and tries to get the jump on his lover who is still hungrily staring at Hayden’s increasingly full pit. Hayden grabs at the arm reaching out to him and tries to wrestle him to the floor as they begin going at it outright. Instead Jax quickly pins Hayden having had more time to settle into his massive body. Though as his bro-friend is pinned he moans and his body pulses out even more. He quickly begins making out while Hayden remains pinned to the floor. Beards scratching against each other and their sweaty bodies grind against each other leaving stains all across the once sterile lab floor.
Seeing this the lab administrator staring through two way glass decides he’s seen enough. 
“Keep the door locked. This has been more than a success. Shame we lost a lab tech although it is not much of a loss judging by how quickly he succumbed to the lab rat across from him.” He sneers as he gives one last look to the jocks frotting as their bodies continue to grow larger. Backs growing wider as they drag their nails across them. Heads quickly being shoved into pits before returning to mouths ever awaiting the others' lips. Almost visible stink lines of musk shooting out. 
As the administrator reaches the door he pauses. He was done here. Was he going somewhere? He feels like he was about to make money enough to retire right now. But how? Hearing the heavy pounding behind him he turns once more to see two impossibly masculine men steaming up an entire room. Oh? That must be what the smell is, he realizes as he begins to scratch under his arm and moves to cover his face as he begins to sneeze.
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onelittlespiral · 29 days
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FML: Video
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“Shoot, I don’t know about this. Something about watching this feels weird.”
My bro just kept holding my face, “You said you wanted to be one of the bros dude. Just keep watching, this video will tell you everything you need to know”
“Yeah, you said that, but this is just static and nonsense, and something about it has me on edge. Just let me get out of here.”
“But don’t it speak to you? Isn’t there something you want to let out jock boy.”
“I…no, no I… I can’t… stop, what’s happening?”
“Jock boy is about to learn what being a bro is all about. Jock boy wants to listen carefully to his bro and watch the video.”
“No no no… but, it… it sounds so… calm…”
“Yeah jock boy, just like a mind vacation. Just let it happen. Good jock boy.”
“Must… listen… to… bruuuuhhh.”
Sometimes it takes a little convincing, but eventually they all fall. Their eyes grow wide before their muscles go limp and mouths drop open. It usually only takes a little bit for them to process. But when they finally do come too, it’s like a whole different world in there. The first one I did by accident. Found the weird file and sent it to my roommate as a joke. It wasn’t until I got back from class that I saw just how much power I now had.
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Gone was the theater kid, in his place was a souped up bro ready to knock back some cold ones, and get sweaty in the gym. It was a surprise when he began rubbing my thigh in the sauna, and pulled me in for a kiss. I melted in his arms as he positioned me on the bench and began stretching me out. I was so relaxed he slid in with no lube, fucking me raw and hard as his tongue kept my mouth distracted from moaning. Thought I just got lucky there, happened to get a gay guy. But I quickly learned for him now, “any hole’s a goal.” And it was confirmed when I tried it with a second guy:
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Good old Southern boy, and as straight as they came. Thought he was hot shit in class. Sent him the file when we were on a group project together. By the next day when he came in, he couldn’t add two numbers together with a calculator. He was still smug as hell but in bed, let’s just say he earned it. He was about as thick as an ear of corn, and he knew how to plow a field and spread his seed.
I had tried a couple others since then. A scholarship rival here. A group mate there. A couple disappointing dates that ended up really turning the night around. But my friend had finally gotten curious and started asking some questions. I didn’t need someone to question what was happening. I needed a lifting buddy. This was my first time trying to edit the file to get some different results.
“Hey, bro? What happened last night? I feel hung over as fuck..”
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Holy shit he was massive. “Nothing too much bro. You just got fucking shit faced.”
“Huhuhu, yeah,” he gawfed, “sounds right.
It was time to try the trigger and see how much the changes worked, “Hey, jock boy, tell me your name.”
His laughter stopped as his eyes glossed over, “My name is Jack, but my friends just call me Jacked.”
“What do you want more than anything, jock boy?”
“To serve my bros,” he replied.
“Will you do anything for them?”
His mind flickered for a moment. I saw a look of confusion pass over him. He looked down, “Hey, what… WHAT HAPPENED? What did you do-“
I walked up and held his face“JOCK BOY, STOP.”
He tried to fight it, his mind pulling him back to the abyss. But as I watched his body slowly relax, I knew I had won even before he said, “Ye-yeah. Sure thing bro.”
“Jock Boy, will you do anything for your bros?”
His face broke out in a shiteating grin, “Fuck yeah, anything for my bros.”
“New exercise routine. You, face down, ass up. My bed. Now.”
He excitedly ran back to my bedroom. I heard the bed squeal under his weight. Good to know I could edit things. Can’t always let my bros have all the fun.
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onelittlespiral · 29 days
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Diet Diaries
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Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam
Monday March 21st-
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Andy:
I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~
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Steve:
Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home. 
Tuesday March 22nd-
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Andy:
My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.
Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~
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Steve:
Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.
Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.
Wednesday March 23rd-
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Andrew:
Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!
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Steven:
That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with  him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.
Thursday March 24th-
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Andrew: 
Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!
OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!
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Steven:
God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it. 
It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.
Friday March 25th-
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Steven:
Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.
I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..
Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~
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Andrew:
Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.
Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)
Saturday March 26th-
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Stevie:
Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-
Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass! 
I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-
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And Drew:
Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.  
Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.
Sunday March 27th-
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Stevie:
Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~
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Drew:
My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.
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onelittlespiral · 1 month
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Should've Worn Green
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Happy St. Patrick's Day! Figured I couldn't miss the best Irish Tf day of the year eh? Best! -Occam
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Charles didn’t account for the drunks storming the streets today when he was getting ready this morning. Why should he have to step out of his way to avoid getting beer spilled on him. Nevertheless perhaps the accountant should have checked the calendar before wandering into the streets without wearing a hint of green.
Such a blunder would not long go unpunished however. Compact as he is, he nimbly ducks out of the way of glasses clinking in brutish hands raised high. He scoffs at their total disregard for sanitation as they spill beer all over each other in the cheers. Barely avoiding getting drenched himself Charles bumps into a figure who drunkenly laughs before reaching out towards him.
“Aye! Shoulda worn green lad! ‘S St. Paddys!” He shouts as he pinches the already frustrated clerk who yelps and slaps at the hand. Not even pausing to dignify the man with a verbal response, he pushes forward to not be late for work.
He stumbles onward, reaching the edge of the crowd and finally takes a break. In the scarcely fresher air, his stomach lurches and he leans onto a building to avoid falling over. His shoulder itches as he almost feels what can only be described as vertigo? He looks over the crowd angrily, sure that they are to blame for whatever this episode is, contemplating going back toward whoever assaulted him but every face in the crowd is impossibly similar. Jesus, he’s never seen so many redheads in one place?
Wondering if he’s somehow woken up in Ireland proper he feels a breeze on his midriff. Not only has his shirt been untucked but the skin exposed suggests it never could have been tucked in the first place. It’s as if he’s grown half a foot. Charles starts hyperventilating, trying to convince himself his shirt must have shrunk in the wash, though surely he would have seen his exposed belly button when he put it on no? 
He again looks towards the crowd seeking anything to blame for his state. This makes it evident that he has grown indeed, now  able to directly make eye contact with men in the crowd. There is a draft on his ankles as his increasing height only becomes more difficult to deny. Charles clenches his jaw as his eyes find the man who simply must be the culprit.
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In the middle of the mass of Paddy’s day parishioners, he sees a man staring directly at him, a smirk edging out from under his thick beard. He raises a large glass of Guinness in cheers and Charles can’t help but stare at the man in turn, his anger quickly being replaced by confusion. He winks, the glass still raised, as Charles stumbles backwards trying to avert his eyes. They forcibly return to this man each time taking in a new facet of his impossibly masculine body. The jungle of hair in his pits draws him in as if there’s a fire in his still-raised arm. His powerful chest is covered in a similar forest of beyond dense red hair.
Charles, unbeknownst to himself, continues to hungrily stare at the statuesque man as the pitch-black coif on his own head begins to bleach as a red tint starts to force its way up from his roots. He scratches at his face wondering how he forgot to shave before work. Oh, work? He needs to get to work right? His eyes retreat from the specimen to check his watch. He raises his arm to check his watch creating a tear in his suit as his bicep involuntarily flexes. His face reddens just as his hair continues to do, his anger towards the crowd returns as they have clearly forced him to not only be late to work, but to arrive wearing less than his prestigious work demands of him.
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Before enacting whatever meager retribution his increasingly muddy mind decides he looks up to see the mysterious man approaching him through the crowd. His body involuntary clenches in fear, each instinctual flex creating new tears in his workday attire. His chest bursts into existence shooting his shirt’s buttons far into the dancing crowd. Tears appear down the length of his dress pants revealing tight briefs barely hanging together underneath. He rips off the rest of his suit jacket lest it impede him as he prepares to bolt from the rapidly approaching giant, though with each surge of growth coursing through Charles the man seems less menacing and massive, and more familiar.
He again scratches at his shoulder as he begins to notice that someone in the crowd desperately needs a shower. At least he thinks it's the crowd, he looks towards his own pits questioning his cleanliness and sees pits with thin dark hairs. But that can’t be right? Surely they should be red like all his other hair. He flexes his pecs and watches the ginger hair on his torso dance in the morning sun. Laughing before he returns his attention to his pits that are rapidly agreeing with his assessment and growing thick and red, they also make it clear that the sudden stink in the air could be no one but him.
It’s chill though Charles thinks, he’s been partying all morning with the guys, he’s sure they’ll get it. Smirking to himself not even noticing how swiftly he has assimilated to being one of the parishioners that have taken over the block. As he stands there, his red pubes increasingly showing above his crotch as his briefs are weighed down with each growing pulse in his crotch. 
Finally the smirking Irishman who started it all makes his way over shouting,  “Ay Charlie! Yer gunna have to cover up ya! Shame we’re not Scots or I’d toss ye a kilt, Ha! And ‘Ere lad don’t be standing around without a drink in hand.” He tosses a large cup at Charlie who catches it, though losing the head as it splashes all over him, matting his ginger curls to his chest and revealing the most intricate details of his still-growing bulge.
Charlie cheers at the man who must be a friend, or at least a countryman, before quickly starting to down the tankard. As he swallows the swill he swiftly loses whatever smidge of himself that remained in this northern paragon of a body. His chest fills out with a bit of weight as beer trickles down the beard expanding further down his face. As he swallows his voice develops into an impossible to mistake accent. It’s just, didn’t he have something to do today? His brown eyes sparkle as they brighten to a green bright enough to be in the tricolor as he laughs. What could he have to do today more important than celebrating his home country! America is fine and all that but fwoh, could certainly stand to be more like his homeland. Charlie, tired of thinking so much on a day like this, gives into a primal urge of celebration and joins the bacchanal. Charles Morris would not arrive to push whatever buttons and keys he was supposed to at work that day. But Charlie Mulligan was having the greatest time of his life, as he would continue to do evermore.
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onelittlespiral · 2 months
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Becoming Dan's
I think Dan is probably obsessed with me. Ever since I joined the gym, he hasn't taken his eyes off me. He asks me every time to help him at the bench, he gives me advice on how to best use the gym equipment, how to improve my diet, he encourages me nonstop. Everyone here seems to love him; he is a trained and rather strong guy, but he is also nice, always with a ready joke and a smile on his face. He doesn't seem at all like the classic blowhard trying to be better than others; it's a pleasure to spend time with him.
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The only thing that puzzles me sometimes is the way he looks at me. I think Dan is gay. I've never been the type to judge other people's sexuality, but honestly his naughty looks creep me out sometimes. Despite this, he keeps looking for me at the gym and I keep spending time with him, often without even thinking about it. Moreover, when I leave the gym, I have the feeling that I have forgotten the last moments, as if something fundamental has happened. Anyway, my memory is so blurred that I stop worrying about it --- besides, this forgetfulness is accompanied by a feeling of total comfort. In particular, I frequently forget what goes on in the locker room once I finish training. I guess it's the fatigue.
--- One month later ---
Dan and I are now inseparable. I started going to the gym almost every day, if only to see him. I began to feel the need to talk to him, to train together. When I happen to fail, he sends me selfies, showing me his biceps and reminding me that "no pain, no gain."
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I always promise him that I will do my best to be at training the next day. I have never felt such a transport for another man, such a vivid and intense friendship. When I am with him I feel ecstatic, full of energy. His laughter is infectious, we have so much fun together that we even go out together to the pub or dancing at the disco. He revealed to me that he is in fact gay, as I imagined, but I don't really care now. In fact, I must admit that his looks fill me with pride; it means that the hard work is paying off, my body is becoming more toned and muscular. He even convinced me to take a shower at the gym, whereas I used to wash at home. I don't feel any embarrassment being naked with him under the pouring water, in contrary, I occasionally find myself looking at him, fantasizing about when I will also have a body like his.
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The amnesias anyway continue, but they are less and less intense. I think it is because I am getting better at handling fatigue.
--- Two weeks later ---
For the past week I've been embarrassed being with Dan. Sure, it's always nice to spend time with him, but I think I'm starting to feel something for him. I never thought I could like men, but it's different with him. I find myself fantasizing about his body, wishing that his mighty arms and massive hairy chest would hold me in a big hug. When it happens --- and it happens often because Dan is a very affectionate guy --- I feel so happy, even though we are covered in sweat. Incredibly, even his masculine stench no longer disgusts me, in fact I find it sweet and pleasant. When we are in the shower, I try not to look at him but his body attracts my eyes like a magnet.
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I feel something move in my lower abdomen as I see him soaping himself, his hands touching his body covering the hairs with white foam. I realize I am about to have an erection, at which point I finish the shower as soon as possible, immediately covering myself with the towel and concentrating on something else. Often Dan asks me if everything is all right, I nod and pretend nothing is wrong. Maybe I should talk to him about it more directly, maybe even he, since he is gay, would know how to help me out.
--- One week later ---
I told Dan everything. He was a little shocked, then laughed about it with his usual cheerfulness. He told me it's normal, it's all part of the change my body is going through. The hormones inevitably undergo an awakening when you work out a lot, he says. I trust him because I don't understand anything about it, but I'm heartened to know that it's all okay. He assured me that I'm not turning gay, it's just a phase. He also told me that he will help me manage it, so now after each workout we wait until the gym is half empty, then lock ourselves in the bathroom. In those moments Dan lets me touch his body while he shows me his muscles.
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Feeling under my fingers his warm body, his hard skin, and his thick hair causes a visible erection in my underwear. He tells me not to be embarrassed, it is perfectly normal. Sometimes he even lets me do it in the shower, our penises standing erect but I try not to look at them, my gaze focused on his torso and smiling face. Sometimes I think our cocks brushed against each other, at which point I pulled away and covered my face, embarrassed. He after the shower hugs me, tells me it can happen. No homo at all, he told me, it's just a phase. I am really grateful to him.
--- One week later ---
I couldn't resist anymore. One day, as I touched his muscular body in the shower, I launched into a kiss. Dan, to my amazement and wonder, did not pull back. His arms wrapped around me and our tongues entwined. I felt an immense feeling of pleasure come from my belly. I had never felt anything like it in my life. When he let me go, he told me as he dried himself to join him at his house.
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When we were there, he told me the whole truth. From the first day he had seen me come in, his eyes had been only for me. He told me that he had liked me for a long time and that he had not hoped for it, but he was so happy to be reciprocated. I, in my heart, thought I was living a dream. I didn't like men and I knew it, but Dan was different. The idea of being with him, even intimately, made me feel an irrepressible joy. That night we kissed again and again, holding each other tightly on his couch, our chests bare, our cocks hard in our pants.
--- Two weeks later ---
My relationship with Dan is going strong. The more days go by, the more I avoid going to the gym. I'm still trying to keep everything a secret, and it would be embarrassing to be seen together while we pretend to be just friends. But every night I'm at his house, we stay naked all the time, sometimes I even spend the night there. Dan is really special, he cares that we take our time since this is the first times with a man for me. Every time we were naked and hugging without the heat of a shower on us was magical. I feel his warm body on me and as our hard cocks touch I feel no embarrassment whatsoever. I press my face to his chest, his hairs scratch my cheeks, and fall asleep smelling the musky scent of his armpits.
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He was the first to break the ice: one night on the couch he made me lie down and then put his hand near my penis. Now, when he masturbates me, I lose all inhibitions, my body is pervaded by spasms of pleasure and I cannot hold back moans of ecstasy. When I cum on my belly, he usually wipes me with a handkerchief, caringly. Needless to say, since he started with the blowjobs, everything was amplified, the pleasure, the spasms. I can't resist resting a hand on her head and thrusting, as I feel her tongue wrap wildly around my cock. I erupt each time into her mouth, rivulets of cum flowing from her lips as she watches me. I begin to think it would be nice to reciprocate. His cock is huge, much bigger than mine. Although it is 8-inches long, it always surprises me how massive, wide and powerful it is. The idea of having it in my hands or elsewhere intimidated and excited me at the same time, making me linger every night about what to do.
--- Two weeks later ---
I love Dan's cock insanely. The first night I brought him close to my face I was surprised at how good his smell was; it was much more intense than his armpit scent, but also much sweeter. My body was raced by an uncontrollable craving and I pounced with my lips on his glans, voraciously.
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That was a turning point. Now when I enter his house, the first thing I do is open the fly of his pants to give him a proper blowjob. There is nothing better than his cock for me now. His sweet taste blows my mind every time. The first few times it was tricky, I often let myself gag because of its size, it took my breath away. By now I had become masterful. I also started to make him cum in my mouth; the violence with which his penis erupts in my throat is repaid by the delicious taste of his seed, I always drink every drop, as if I were addicted to it. I am totally his now. I find myself mindlessly on my knees before him, panting with my tongue out, a docile little puppy ready to suck his favorite bone. He looks at me contentedly and I feel utter bliss.
--- One month later ---
The other day my historical friends asked me what happened to me. I lied that work was overwhelming me. I actually live permanently at Dan's now. Every day, when we meet again at his house, I do nothing but get wildly fucked.
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Since he started pounding my ass, I have no reason to want anything else. When his cock enters my asshole, the rest of the world fades away. Only his eyes remain, his hairy body swaying as he pleasures me wildly. After the pain I felt the first time, I thought I could do without it, but Dan is magnetic. The idea of being submissive to him is the most exciting part of it. We don't even use lubricants anymore, by now my anus is so broken in that his penis enters without resistance. We fuck for hours, me always aroused despite muscle aches, him always craving my body. His smug smile cleanses me of effort and pain. I think I have fallen completely in love with him, my massive stud.
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--- One month later ---
Dan is not only the love of my life now. Dan is my master. We started playing more and more within the walls of his house, me getting more and more excited to be obedient to him. It all started when he asked me to call him "Daddy."
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I was very excited by the idea, the sense of protection our relationship gave me was immediately heightened. Then he began to treat me like a little dog; I had the purpose of bringing objects back to him with my mouth, licking his feet while he showed me how strong he was --- there was no one stronger than Daddy Dan.
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Every task completed produces an orgasm in me. I often have a tail plug inserted as well, to be even more of his obedient little pup. He loves it when I pull out my tongue and panting yearn for his cock, I can see it in his eyes.
--- Two months later ---
Dan is my only universe. I've been leaving his house for weeks just to go to the gym --- everyone knows about us by now --- or to go grocery shopping. I am his property now, and I couldn't be happier. I left my old home, my job, my friends, but I found the greatest joy, that of being my Daddy's obedient slave. He revealed to me that when I am hesitant, he pulls out a magic pendulum from his pocket and hypnotizes me. He confessed to me that he has always done this since we first met. He told me that the amnesias that plagued me were nothing more than his orders, the command to erase the traces of every instruction he had given me. But everything that had taken place in the last few months was the result of his manipulation. He had hypnotized me, controlled me to make me first his friend, then his lover. All with the clear intention of making me his property. From the first moment he had seen me, it had all been planned.
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The revelation did not arouse anger in me; far from it, I felt deeply honored. My daddy Dan is always so considerate, he knows I could only be happy like this, dominated by his piercing eyes, his hairy, muscular chest, his huge cock. I will now have the thoughtfulness to reciprocate him, forever, like the good little boy I have become.
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onelittlespiral · 2 months
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Psych Should Not Be Required
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I’m a long time reader of so, so many creators here and other male transformation sites and I’ve finally decided to try and write some transformative fiction myself. This is my first time writing something indulgent like this and I hope you enjoy!
-Occam
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Jacob was a senior year engineering student and he was not pleased at the task that lies ahead of him. He had sailed through all the required advanced physics and material design courses for his major. He is well ahead of the curve in all the classes that matter to him. The only course with work left to complete is his final general education requirement; Psychology 101. He simply could not bring himself to respect this freshman level course. Because of this he missed that all participants were required to take part in research for the psychology department in order to get full credit, which must do lest he have a blemish in his otherwise perfect educational career.
This means he must sign up to participate in the only experiment that remains open; taking a quiz after testing some kind of nose spray. He’s no expert in psychology but he is willing to wager it’s some kind of hormonal test, maybe it will be a dose of pregnenolone before some kind of memory test. Jacob then considers something even further afield and blushes, it could be testosterone? It isn't that novel to use the memory hormone for a memory test after all. Jacob continues to blush as he rides the elevator up to the lab thinking about using a testosterone spray, he has never felt terribly masculine. In high school he was allowed to bypass even the most basic physical education requirements so he could strengthen his already overly rigorous course schedule. He huffs to himself as he wishes he was able to weasel his way out of this psychology class, he’d much rather be back in his dorm, eager to do anything than waste more time on a general course requirement.
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Upon making it to the lab Jacob sees another student waiting outside. A similar mousy type to himself, although a little older and to Jacob’s eye quite a bit cuter. Jacob assumes he must be a psychology graduate student as he introduces himself as Hasan. Hasan compliments Jacob’s hoodie, wishing he had worn a similar one since the lab is pretty drafty, before leading Jacob into the room and has him fill out a questionnaire mainly consisting of information about Jacob and his lifestyle. As Jacob begins to fill it out he starts chatting with Hasan who goes to prepare the nasal spray that is sitting at a table across the way.
“So what is this experiment after all? The application only said I was taking a quiz and trying some nasal spray. Am I allowed to know what it is?”
Hasan smiles a little uncomfortably, “actually I don’t even know what it is. This little study is double blind so I’m basically just a tech. This could be a placebo for all I know.”
Jacob rolls his eyes, knowing his luck it definitely is a placebo. His groundless hopes have been dashed but perhaps not all is lost. He had no idea if Hasan was also gay but he was certainly cute, and Jacob, too smart for his own good was not confident in his abilities to flirt, would try and please him in the only way he knew how; filling out a quiz with haste. He scribbles through the quiz, quickly jotting down his major and hobbies and as soon as he finishes he calls out and offers the completed form to Hasan. 
“Okay now that we’re done with that.” Hasan starts as he makes his way to Jacob holding the spray, “It’s time for the awkward part.” Hasan puts his hand behind Jacob’s head and asks him to lean back which Jacob does, flinching when he feels Hasan’s hand as the two of them prepare for uncomfortable intimacy. “I’ll just go ahead and,” pausing as he gets ready to use whatever this spray is on Jacob, “do it!”
Jakob immediately sneezes, and Hasan flinches back. Which is weird, Jakob usually doesn’t sneeze when he uses his allergy spray? But no? Does he have allergies? He gets lost in his own head briefly, not hearing Hasan apologize for the discomfort as he continues to chat and make his way to the desk opposite Jakob’s to start the quiz proper.
“Okay! Are you ready for question one!” Hasan eagerly awaits Jakob’s response which swiftly comes. Although his mind is swimming, Jakob cannot allow a chance to answer a question pass him by. He nods and grunts in affirmation. Although it sounds as if something is stuck in his throat? He takes effort to clear it and does not notice as his Adam's apple bobs just a bit further out of his neck and his voice, to anyone but himself, grows perceptively deeper.
“Looks like it starts with a few unnecessary ones, so we can just blast through them! Your name is Jacob of course, right?”
“Correct,” Jakob replies without pause scratching his cheek. His own name flashes into his head, but he would have sworn it was spelled differently. Obviously though, he would not misspell his own name. He continues to scratch his sideburns, slowing down as he remains lost in his own head, not noticing as his face is no longer clean shaven. “That's with a K, right?” he asks Hasan.
Hasan, confused, looks towards the questionnaire absolutely  sure it was spelled with a C and instead sees something completely different written on the questionnaire. Clear as day the name that Jakob has written down was Jake. Hasan, off-put by his mistake, looks back at Jakob and notices that he has quite a bit of stubble around his jawline and chin, making his whole face look sharper than Hasan remembered it being when he walked in. Clearly he was not being nearly perceptive enough today. Embarrassed to have somehow already messed up this study, Hasan quickly asks Jakob.
“So you prefer to go by Jake?”
Jake, the itch on his face now sated, starts scratching the center of his chest as his chinstrap beard continues to fill out. “Yeah, that’s what I wrote, right bud?” Hasan looks further on in the questionnaire, embarrassed as he knows the actual study administrator is watching as he waffles. In this pause Jake, now feeling uncomfortably warm in his hoodie, begins to stretch. Moaning as he extends his arms and legs farther than they have ever stretched before. He exposes his midriff to Hasan who quickly looks away not noticing as Jake begins to sprout a happy trail that rapidly expands across the whole of Jake's lower stomach. Perhaps Hasan should familiarize himself with the questionnaire before continuing. He thinks as he deliberately avoids looking towards the suddenly more attractive man across from him.
Jake pulls down his hoodie, not missing the opportunity to scratch his crotch while his hand was down there. He finishes stretching by puffing out his chest and feels a pop as his pecs quickly expand outwards. The flat chest he has seen his entire life in the briefest moments he spent unclothed looking in the mirror is now gone. He looks stubbornly down at his chest which presses out just further than his thin stomach. One last time Jake is able to question this situation. Jake knows that he should not have pecs. He is a nerd. He could count the number of push ups he has done his entire life on both hands. Right? When could he have worked enough to get this chest? He grows distracted questioning his reality before pausing as he realizes his right hand is stuffed in his pants. 
The heat in the room starts to get to him as he looks past his chest, something he must do now, and sees that his hand is firmly planted in his briefs. He is scratching at his pubes directly in front of Hasan who thankfully has not looked up as Jake rips his hand out of his briefs. Almost instinctively bringing it up to his face before balking and growing warmer in the face.
“Do you smell that?” Hasan asks succinctly, not noticing Jake shake stray pubes off his hand as he continues reading Jake’s questionnaire.
“Smell what br-” Jake starts before sniffing to find the scent and immediately notice someone’s incredibly pervasive body odor starting to fill the room. It’s as if some muscle brained maniac were standing right next to him immediately after working out. He quickly looks around wondering how he has missed an oaf wandering in. Before freezing as he remembers that he forgot to put deodorant on today.
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Well, not forgot, Jake never wears deodorant? He doesn’t need it. He barely sweats and as he does he doesn’t have any pit hair to trap it he has never had an issue before. He confidently looks down to inspect his pits and notices sweat stains larger and darker than he has seen on anyone covering the underarms of his hoodie. Shocked, he quickly smells his pits and discovers that he is of course the source of this body odor that would put a lineman to shame. He then thoughtlessly scratches his armpits, getting the smell all over his hands as he blushes and apologizes, “Shit dude, I’m sorry. I don’t usually wear deodorant. It’s hotter than I thought it’d be in a lab huh.” Unbeknownst to the increasingly sweaty man his pits start to get even hairier under the hoodie as he furrows his thickening brows and scratches even harder to get through the pit hair. “It’s not usually an issue though… It’s not like I work out or anything.” 
Hearing this Hasan is taken aback, “Oh sorry, I don’t mean to embarrass you, but you did write down that you just came from the gym, is that not true?” Jake suddenly has a flash of what must be a memory. He was at the gym all morning getting a pump before heading out with his bro,  “Oh yeah I didn't I” and Jake sneezes once more. 
Hasan watches and cries out as Jak sneezes and his pecs burst even farther out of his chest. His arms completely fill out his hoodie, Hasan swears he can see veins pushing against the fabric. There is a quick tearing sound as Jak’s sudden growth rips his jacket in several places. Under the desk, where Hasan can’t see, Jak’s crotch similarly fills out as Jake sneezes again, moaning even deeper than before. “Sorry bro I’m a triple sneezer I guess,” as he laughs and continues, “I’m gonna go ahead and take my jacket off bro, it’s hot as balls in here.”
Hasan watches as Jak struggles to worm his way out of a jacket that he would have sworn was too large for him when he walked in. He gets half way out of it before standing up to try a different approach. Hasan, now aware that something impossible and horrifying is happening, starts backing away in fear. He can’t help but stare at Jak, unquestionably knowing this is not the student that walked into the room with him. Hasan, once again, sees Jak’s exposed midriff now with abs accompanying the copious amount of hair spilling up from his crotch. 
Jak is now wearing a tank top that he can’t imagine he has ever worn before. But he laughs thinking about how he rarely wears anything else. No better way to show off his pecs and biceps he thinks as he instinctively flexes, arms above his head as he still struggles to get out of the hoodie. As he does so he sneezes once more. Hasan now back against the wall watches enraptured as his pecs push the tank top to its limit and his pits grow even hairier. “Ain’t you gonna bless me bro?” He guffaws at Hasan, unable to see him through the upturned hoodie. “Or are you just distracted by the show.” He then fully rips the jacket in half and tosses it to the floor. Smirking at Hasan, Jak begins to ask if he’s scared of a real man before he feels the heat now shift to his crotch. His hand quickly followed it  directly into his briefs.
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Hasan fails to stay calm as he watches Jak adjust his bulge before deeply sniffing his hand. “Jak we need to get help right now something is terribly wrong with you if-”
Jak then interrupts with a clever, “what am I too swole for you,” laughing more than would be reasonable even in pleasant circumstances. He then grimaces as he notices an extreme discomfort in his shoes. He swore he was wearing socks when he came in but now he sees only his ratty tennis shoes, filled almost to bursting as hair continues to thicken down his legs, concentrated on his inner thighs, and an equally appalling scent begins to stream upward from his sweat stained shoes, “ugh bro, can I take these off they’re wicked tight?” 
Hasan, his head now growing similarly hazy from the amount of Jax’s musk filling the room, forgets why he is cowering against the wall and begins to inch forward to sneak a look at Jax’s feet. Just in time as Jax produces a powerful groan that Hasan swears he feels in his own chest, as Jax stretches his toes and they shoot out of the front of his already overworked tennis shoes. His nails are untrimmed and his toes are covered in hair that remind Hasan of some book he read but can't recall. Jake bends down to rip the rest of his shoes off and instead a tearing sound reverberates from his ass as it struggles to keep pace with Jax’s massive upper body. After exposing the rest of his massive almost fur covered feet, Hasan watches as Jax tears off his pants leaving him only wearing his skin tight tank top and sweat-drenched briefs that are physically sagging due to the weight now present in Jax’s crotch. 
Hasan gasps seeing the large bulge in Jax’s crotch pulse outward. Taking in such a large of the musk filled air without thinking, Hasan completely loses himself, going blank in the eyes and all too similarly he begins to scratch his chin and struggle to remember what he is supposed to be doing. Before he does though Jax comes to whatever of his own sense remains and laughs in an all too jocular way, “sorry bruh, if I had known how massive my pump was I would have brought a change of clothes,” he moves his hairy paw to cover his bulging crotch barely able to squeeze his hand around it as it pulses once more pubes spilling out in every direction and he moans once more. 
“Did you uh, want to get back to your lab thingy or whatever bro?” Seeing Hasan is unresponsive to this he walks up and puts the hand not trying to contain his growing cock on Hasan’s shoulder. As Hadan continues to aimlessly scratch his chin as thick black hair begins to peak out from between his fingers. He squints his eyes and clenches his jaw as it pushes outward. He feels Jax’s hand on his shoulder and rolls it uncomfortably, groaning. Jax growing concerned for his little bro calls out “Hadan? Is everything alright bruh?”
Hearing this sinks Hadan even deeper into his own mind as what he thought he knew rapidly fades. He does not remember the quiz. He does not remember the nasal spray. He does not know why he is in this lab. He doesn’t know a single reason he would ever be in a lab. Was it always this warm in here? Why is Jax looking at him like that? Did he just call me Hadan? Hadan sneezes though is far too gone to understand why that would even be concerning. Besides the fact that he just sneezed on his bro. 
“Ugh, sorry bro. Looks like I just sneezed on you,” Hadan quickly does so again and shoots up nearly a foot in height now able to make direct eye contact with the massive jock in front of him. “All good Hayden, I was sneezing first anyway huh. Hope I didn’t get you sick!” Jax does a full body laugh at this, letting go of Hayden’s shoulder as it jolts up and the bicep beneath forces itself into existence, midnight dark hair quickly shadowing the full length of Hayden’s arm. 
Jax finds himself staring at Hayden’s arm as veins rush across its length criss-crossing, almost pulsing, remembering his bros' maxes being higher and higher as the seconds pass. His tongue begins to loll out of his mouth as he sniffs the air, now fully able to smell Hayden’s body odor mingling with his own and he loses the battle with his impossibly strained briefs. He feels lightheaded as even more blood rushes from his head and he continues to take in the increasing masculinity in front of him, drool starting to pool in his mouth as a deep hunger begins to take over his mind. Hayden feels a similar explosion brewing in him as he stares straight ahead into the hungry eyes of Jax in front of him.
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As Hayden’s desires increase so too does his body expand, at an even more rapid pace than Jax’s minutes-long transformation. He feels his chest burst through his shirt, his nipples scratching against the cheap fabric. His pants tear out in every direction as his boxers struggle to conceal the packages at both ends. He starts to reposition an arm which sends a tear across the back of his shirt revealing the hair beginning to inch up his back from beneath his boxers. Just like his bro before him he looks down to see his shoes pinching his feet. Wondering why he put on shoes that are comically too small he laughs as the laces on his converse burst upward and he just lifts his hairy feet to kick them off.
He runs his hand across his abs feeling the hair covering them as he inches downwards, noticing how sore his muscles are, he begins to stretch and groan. Much to the delight of Jax, who can't take his eyes away as Hayden almost shows off all the hard work he must have done to get such a powerful body. 
At this point Jax reaches his arm to Hayden once more and the two of them feel shockingly present. All the stupor that this musky room has pushed into them almost immediately evaporates as they realize that they are not just bros. The two of them had been simple workout bros for years. Before realizing that if they started fucking they could get an extra massive workout in each night, and so they have done more nights than not since they dropped out of university.
The only remaining question to the two jocks was what were they doing in this room? Hayden stretches an arm behind his head trapping Jax’s attention in his jungle of pit hair as he does his best to put two and two together. Why would they be in a room ass and cock out besides one of their tried and true workout sessions. 
Only one thing to do then Hayden decides and tries to get the jump on his lover who is still hungrily staring at Hayden’s increasingly full pit. Hayden grabs at the arm reaching out to him and tries to wrestle him to the floor as they begin going at it outright. Instead Jax quickly pins Hayden having had more time to settle into his massive body. Though as his bro-friend is pinned he moans and his body pulses out even more. He quickly begins making out while Hayden remains pinned to the floor. Beards scratching against each other and their sweaty bodies grind against each other leaving stains all across the once sterile lab floor.
Seeing this the lab administrator staring through two way glass decides he’s seen enough. 
“Keep the door locked. This has been more than a success. Shame we lost a lab tech although it is not much of a loss judging by how quickly he succumbed to the lab rat across from him.” He sneers as he gives one last look to the jocks frotting as their bodies continue to grow larger. Backs growing wider as they drag their nails across them. Heads quickly being shoved into pits before returning to mouths ever awaiting the others' lips. Almost visible stink lines of musk shooting out. 
As the administrator reaches the door he pauses. He was done here. Was he going somewhere? He feels like he was about to make money enough to retire right now. But how? Hearing the heavy pounding behind him he turns once more to see two impossibly masculine men steaming up an entire room. Oh? That must be what the smell is, he realizes as he begins to scratch under his arm and moves to cover his face as he begins to sneeze.
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onelittlespiral · 2 months
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The university was clearly scraping the bottom of the barrel when they paired you up with your jock of a roommate. The residence hall questionnaire could only have been entirely ignored when dorm assignments rolled in and the housing department created the ultimate odd couple.
You were there to study, take notes, get a degree, and learn how to live on your own without your parents there to cook and clean. Your roommate on the other hand was there to meet bros, build muscle, and attending to the incessant needs of his cock with whatever convenient vagina he could find at that moment. And all this took president over any kind of cleaning or tidying or laundry—it didn't take long for his sweaty clothes from his routine workouts to establish a sustained odor. At the same time, you also managed to develop a raging crush on your inflexibly straight roomie.
It didn't take long for his habits and your habits to cause friction and even less time for you to get to the end of your rope. Getting out wasn't going to be an option, not this year with the dorms at capacity and no other willing swappers in their system. In your desperation to get out or try to change any aspect of the situation, you find yourself reaching out to me.
My solution is a potion that promises to make the necessary changes to guarantee he becomes the perfect roommate for you, so long as you both drink it.
Slipping it in his protein shake proved to be quite simple. Once he was off to the gym for the evening with his spiked supplement, you took the other vial in your hand, regarded the liquid for a moment, and downed it.
...
You wait for a moment, expecting... well what should you be expecting...
After a few seconds of nothing, you wonder what you really just drank. Magic wasn't real, and despite what you'd heard about me from... whatever source, you realize how foolish you were thinking a little—mountain dew maybe?—would change anything with your disgusting roommate.
Man, his musky work-out smell is really strong. You always think it's the worst it's been and then the b.o. manages to intensify. Instead, you make a feeble attempt to distance yourself from the stench by crossing to your side of the room, except it proves to be inescapable.
Ugh, you look down and see a shirt on the ground on your side of the room. He's really taking over everything now. You go to pick it up... but realize it's one of your shirts... and... it smells. Do you need more deodorant? Did you forget to put the shirt in the hamper?— Is he wearing your clothes?... Did that thought turn you on a bit?
Wait a second. Are you smelling the shirt? You were smelling the shirt. You didn't even realize it but you while you were lost in thought, you had brought the garment with his rank aroma to your nose and taken a nice deep breath... maybe a couple—you couldn't remember...
And again... it smells kinda nice... except... you realize the shirt was his. It was a lycra compression shirt, and you didn't own any lycra... why did you think it was your shirt? You didn't go to the gym, work out; you don't have any muscle like he does so it make sense because if it was yours, you'd—
You catch a view of yourself. Each side of the room had a closet for every resident, and these closets had large, fully-mirrored sliding doors. If you had muscle, you probably would own lycra clothing, you probably would check yourself out in your closet mirror like he did, you probably would flex your muscles, like...
Like this... and this...
Even though you didn't work out, you saw some shadow of definition. You felt your modest weenie chub up as your biceps bulged even just slightly. And if you fleeeeeeeexed again... you might be able to smell your own musk wafting outward from your exposed arm pits. If you strike this pose... it could exaggerate the taper of your midsection from your shoulders narrowing to your waist. If you wanted to see that v-shape even better, you could take off your shirt... let it hit the floor... add to the pile of your other sweaty rank gym clothes. If you contracted like... this, you could cause your pecs to bulge and your arms to come into clearer definition, almost like they were not just bulging with muscle, but actually swelling, growing larger. This is what muscular people must feel like—your were turning yourself on more and more making your dick grow harder and harder seeming to thicken in your underwear until it bulges obviously in your black joggers.
And if you did have a bigger dick and bigger balls you'd have more testosterone, a sharper jaw, body hair. Hair that would highlight your abs and dust your pecs and give you thicker muskier bushes under your arms. But if you did have a bigger dick, you would probably be soooo horny. You would probably be so dumb. if you were swole, you'd just need to lift and flex... and if you were horny, you'd just need a steady stream of cock and ass to tend to your own big thick dick...
you flex again... and again... and again...
if you were a nerd, you'd probably hate living with a dumb bro like you, but you got paired with the perfect roommate who just wants to flex and fuck. just like you.
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The door opens and your roommate enters. You turn towards him, mid-flex. The stench of your combined musk hits him like a drug and you see his bulge swell visibly in this fuckbro gym shorts. Somehow the college had paired you with another gay bro who was always down to offer a hand or a hole any time of day or night—and you were just as willing to return the favor.
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onelittlespiral · 2 months
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onelittlespiral · 2 months
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This beastly jock’s huge pecs bounced as he turned to face you, motioning for you to reach out and touch. You blush, feeling slightly embarrassed at flagrantly objectifying him, but when building a body like that, it comes with the territory. Your hand stretches over and takes a cautious squeeze.
JIGGLE
Your finger digs into his chest, pushing deep into the tissue - being swallowed by his enormous mass. You let go and his chest shudders back into shape like a slippery water balloon. Resting your hand below, you bounce his nipple up and down. The way they shook was hypnotic.
JIGGLE JIGGLE
Your eyes were fixated, following the erratic movements of his taut nipples. He laughs and it was infectious. You laugh. You can’t help but join in, the tone of your voice getting deeper and slower, like playing at 0.5 speed. You find yourself saying ‘Jiggle’ out loud to him. It was akin to pointing out the grass was green.
With the ‘distraction’ you didn’t even notice your own pecs expanding, the pressure pushing out against your shirt. It was like there was a pump attached to your chest, filling it with air. It’s not the only thing that felt like it was filling with air. Your head was feeling incredibly spacious.
There was the abrasive sound of fabric ripping, your shirt bursting open at the chest. Looking down at yourself you see two huge jugs jutting out. They obscure the rest of your thickening body. You barely notice as your legs effortlessly push you higher from the ground while your shoulders bulk up, mirroring the jocks hulking physique. And then his hand reaches out to touch your pecs. He taps them lightly and-
JIGGLE
‘Jiggle’ You grunt loudly from your now thick, square shaped head. Your bushy brow hangs over your vacant eyes. ‘Jiggle’ he repeats back confidently. It felt good to be so blatantly objectified. An object. A big meaty object. You couldn’t deny that it was turning you on like crazy. Your junk was leaking like a fire hose as he continues to play with your breasts. You desperately wanted to be touched and squeezed. Viewed as eye candy with nothing of interest going on in that microscopic brain. Dumb. That was the word, the word for you. Your bro smiles at your glazed expression and pushes a baseball cap over your dense skull, spinning it around backwards.
Before long there was two vacuous jocks standing there like sculpted meat statues, chuckling dimly to themselves. When they both turned to face another onlooker their pecs-
JIGGLE
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onelittlespiral · 3 months
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*now with cropped photo to appease the tumblr puritans who think a man in underwear is too scandalous for a blog no one under 18 should be looking at anyway*
The problem with Dean Holt is that he probably should have kept his mouth shut. He was a straight A student at the college and he couldn't stand when people cheated and so without thinking about it reported Peter Wyatt, the schools best lacrosse player, for copying another students exam and got him expelled. Dean probably had no idea what sport the guy even played or that he was the best or that the athletic department would be devistated without him. He only cared about integrity. He only did it because Peter threatened him if he didn't let him copy. He was worried but Peter threatened another student and they caved which got Dean off the hook and honestly he probably should have let it go after that.
Among other things he didn't know was that his english teacher was also the lacrosse coach. He thought nothing of being asked to stay after, even as the door got locked. "You know what? I get it your a great student but for some things don't come as easy" the teacher started yelling at him "so what if Pete cheated on a chemistry test who cares? He's a buisness major I don't know why the university required him to take that class anyway. He doesn't need to be an expert he needed to pass so he could stay on the team!" The teacher yelled as Dean figured out too late what this was about. "And because of you! We are short handed for this season. You need to relax and mind your own buisness" Dean couldn't think of what to say as the coach put a black cap on his head and twisted it around "But I can help with that" he said with a grin.
Dean felt different instantly. His head itched as his hair got darker and grew long and sweaty. Poking out from the cap in messy curls as his thoughts started to slow and his stress was shifting to relaxation. His green eyes turned a pale empty blue and a scraggly goatee sprouted as his clenched jaw loosened. His jaw going slack even, as some drool slipped out. His head seemed to get bigger, the cap tighter, as his jaw squared and became more masculine. His neck and shoulders broadened. His arms snd chest filling with a mix of muscle and fat. Very different from his formerly thin and scrawny frame. Dark hair sprputed on his arms, chest, and stomach forming a treasure trail. As he got beefy his shirt started to get tight until he flexed and the shirt ripped and Dean couldn't help but give a dumb chuckle as he pulled the tattered remains of the shirt off. He felt a heat in his ass as it inflated and hardened with muscle from "all those squats bro!" A dumb broish voice suddenly said in Dean's head. Next he felt a warmth spread over his crotch as his cock and balls grew. Dick getting longer and thicker as he got hard looking at himself. Balls bigger and hairer as they filled with superior jock cum. His legs got bigger as his thighs and calves strengthened. "Never skip leg day bro!" As his jeans got too tight and without thinking much of it he pulled thek right off. Standing there confident in his blue tight boxers. His bigger size 12 jock feet erupted from his shoes and sovks as he kicked off the leftovers.
He sat down as reality altered around him. He was now in the living room of an apartment. Dense hair growing on his legs as his head ached. What little was left of Deans mind was fighting and losing as he remembered this was his off campus apartment. He was a lax jock and rooming with some team mates. Memories of his old life faded as he turned around and saw several drawings in a frame behind him. New memories flooded in, always being hyper and athletic. Started playinh lacross in middle school and loved it. He also remembered he was always creative and getting himself messy with art supplies. Clear memories and knowledge of biochemistry faded as knowledge of different art styles and materials took its place. He'd love to go pro with sports but he's an art major in college so he had something to go back on. Most of his bros were buisness but he doesn’t have the mind for that. He laughed as he sat back down and took a pick of his dick through his boxers to post to his snap story. Hoping he can score with some hot chick today.
Looking at the dumb jock sittong there you'd never guess that was once the chemistry stick in the mud Dean Holt. Now all he is, is the dumb but loveable meat-headed jock Dan Hill. Coach got a replacement for Pete. The team is gonna do great this year. And the school lost a self entitled prick who goes around reporting star athletes. Plus Dan so lax and stress free now. Huhuhuh a lax jock whos also lax huhuh.
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