oracle-in-the-garden

[oracle-in-the-garden]

Awesome Find

Tyler is an average 19 year old guy with some pudge on his frame and blond hair. Today his outfit was a pair of cargo shorts, some white low top Adidas, and a red plain t-shirt. He always wanted to fit in with the skater and surfer kids at his school along the coast but he never could get into shape. He got out of school early on Friday and decided to walk home instead of taking the bus like he usually does. Tyler decided to do some sightseeing and went over to the concrete runoff where he usually hangs out throwing rocks and such. He walked on passing a couple little bridges that go over when the one closest to his house had a random suitcase lying there. Tyler became curious and thought he’d take a peek inside it. “There’s always a chance of good stuff” he thought. Tyler unzipped it and was hit with a wave of musk coming from the clothes, he pulled back in disgust then came back after seeing the hot clothes. Tyler was never attracted to anyone so he never knew his orientation but when he saw the clothes he popped a boner and wanted to put them on. “This is wrong, I can’t just wear some nasty clothes out here or even change in public.” Tyler was conflicted but he ultimately gave in to the pleasure of wearing the clothes. He decided to kick off all his clothes and go naked as he grabbed the skinny jeans. Tyler searched in the suitcase for underwear but found a pair of nice musky boxers that he held up, sniffed, and moaned as his 4 inch cock was twitching. Tyler put them on and the jeans as he found the sneakers and noticed there we no socks, he shrugged it off. The sneakers were a size 11 while he usually wore a size 8, he didn’t care as his curiosity and pleasure tookover. The last thing to put on was the tight t-shirt and cap as he put them on and twisted the cap backwards. He started to feel a bit dizzy, he fell back but the concrete wall behind him kept him standing. His cock started to throb and get hot, he whipped it out and could tell something was wrong. “Wh-what the hell is going on bro?” Tyler covered his mouth as he never said bro and wasn’t raised like that. “Fuck dude I’m so horny, mmm I gotta jerk huhuhuh!” Tyler is scared but his overwhelming horniness and pleasure is making him not care as much. His hand starts stroking his cock as he sees it grow right in front of him, he also feels his arms, legs, and practically everywhere ache. “Unnfff fuuucckk dude!” Tyler moans out as his arm muscles start to grow replacing the fat and becoming a bit toned, even his stomach and waist fat is going away and showing abs. “Bro I look so fucking hot and my fuckstick is gonna get me all the guys huhuhuh!” Tyler shook his head, this can’t be him he isn’t gay or this muscled or have this big of a cock for all his friends to suck on. “No no no! Get out of my head!” Tyler sees his cock grow to 5 then 6 as his horny skater self starts to take over, he feels his feet and legs start to tingle as his upper body stops changing. “Bro my feet are gonna be worshipped by guys all day huhuhuh!” His feet grow from size 8 to 8.5 to 9 as they crack and stretch becoming musky along the way. “Fuuucckk they smell so sweet, I wanna lick them all over!” Tyler’s old self starts to fade away into his cock which is now nearing 7 inches and growing to 7.5 real quick. “Huhuhuh this load is gonna be massive dude!” Tyler’s new mind is Ty the skater as his feet finish growing to size 11 just about a half inch of wiggle room along with his cock being almost at 8 inches. “Bro here I cuuuummmm!!!” Ty squirts out gallons of cum out of his newly transformed body and 8 inch cock. Tyler is now a bunch of cum on the concrete, he enjoyed his last minutes though hehe. “Bro gotta get back to the beach, my friends wanna have an orgy huhuhuh!” Ty put his cock away somewhat and ran over to the beach, he’s enjoying his new life.

This story was made for @casualpatrolperfection I hope you and everyone else enjoys it! Forgive me for being so inactive but life happens you know.

[oracle-in-the-garden]

Kyle’s been at the resort for a week and has been loving it. He was worried about changing too much, becoming another self obsessed, cocky, himbo, but day by day he’s seen his body grow, has felt himself getting hotter and more confident. He was always so shy and timid before, but now there’s a thrill when he feels others eyes scanning his body, thirsting for him, he can’t help but show off a little. Besides he’s worked hard to be this hot, or at least days in the gym and smirking in the mirror is quickly becoming the life he remembers. Question is- how long does he stay? He can leave anytime but the longer he’s there the bigger and cockier he becomes. Cravings to fuck and lift are replacing all other thoughts in his head. But it’s too late now to leave, now that he’s getting this fucking hot. Why not stay another few days?

2 weeks later:

[oracle-in-the-garden]

Beefcake

Both hands full of groceries, Bradley clumsily swung the door to his dorm room open and, with very little grace and a loud grunt, hoisted the hefty bags onto the kitchen counter. He looked like he’d just run a marathon, shoulders slumped forward, all sweaty and out of breath. It was truly embarrassing how much a carton of milk and a loaf of bread could make him sweat. With his scrawny limbs and short stature, buying groceries was, shamefully, a serious workout. He eyed the celery sticks poking out of one of the bags and noted with chagrin how, in appearance, he wasn’t much unlike the pale leggy plants. They say you are what you eat, and yet, no matter how much prime beef Bradley consumed, he remained a stalky vegetable.

Man, would he kill to have arms like those jocks on campus. Now those guys were prime beef. Thick and meaty. Bet they never even broke a sweat, he thought. Oh yeah, he could see them now, carrying their grocery bags full of chicken breast and broccoli, strutting down the street, lifting them like weights to pass the time, leaping over obstacles, looking all sexy. Pillowy pecs bouncing, bulbous biceps crunching. And there he was, winded and clammy. Drooling over muscles he didn’t have. With a boner. But hey, at least there wasn’t much food to unpack - just a few things and he could kick back in front of his laptop and fantasise all he wanted.

Milk, check. Bread, check. Ramen, check. Protein bar, check. Wait - protein bar? He didn’t remember buying a protein bar. He blinked a few times, thinking maybe it would turn into a chocolate bar when he wasn’t looking. Nope. Still there. He read the label: ’Beefcake’. Huh. He didn’t recognise the brand - but then, he wasn’t buying protein bars. Ah, fuck it. He could use the extra boost. With a shrug of his narrow shoulders, Bradley peeled the plastic open and popped it into his mouth, chewing it strenuously, swallowing it quickly. God, even his jaw muscles were weak. He winced a little in preparation for the bad taste he associated with health foods - but it was actually quite a treat. In fact, it tasted like what it was called: cake. He might just add it to the shopping list. But just as Bradley went to put away those celery sticks, he suddenly felt… a strange rumbling in his stomach. Not to mention, very lightheaded. Almost as if he was about to faint.

And then he did.

———

Bradley woke up on the kitchen floor, the ceiling slowly coming into focus. Shit, had he fainted? And god, why was he so hot? His entire body was coated in sweat. He was practically marinating in it. And those damn kitchen lights were so bright.

He held up an arm to shade his face — except it wasn’t his arm. Even with blurry vision, he could see that this one was thick with muscles and had a deep tan, not the usual pale celery stick. He must have a concussion. But when he told his brain to move his arm, the juiced-up imposter responded. Holy shit. It was like someone had loaded a thin skewer with thickly cut kebab meat. Bradley sat up on his elbows and, sure enough, there was another, equally muscled and delicious looking arm at the ready. He almost started drooling. He didn’t know what the fuck was happening -  but he knew he liked it. Wait. The protein bar. The Beefcake protein bar. That must be why his arms looked like this. He flexed them both, watching the juicy muscles ball up, thick and hot. Fuck. A deep groan escaped his lips — several octaves deeper than before! A meaty hand clutched his tree trunk neck, titillated by the healthy adams apple that now bounced up and down as he groaned again in a testosterone-oozing baritone. He lowered his gaze and the groan became a moan; every part of his body had been re-designed. No more celery stick. He was prime beef. He was a beefcake. Laying out in front of him was a pair of thick, porterhouse thighs, the kind that made it impossible to walk without rubbing them together. And they were long. Bradley gripped the counter and pulled himself up… and up, and up, and UP. He clenched his eyes closed in a guttural growl as the muscles in his body flexed and relaxed, as if he was stretching out after a good nights sleep. He was fucking huge.

He stumbled back, not used to the high altitude he now stood at, and something on his chest bounced. His eyes dropped to the main course, the plat principal: his pecs, which had ballooned out into two ginormous, rounded slabs of pure beef, his deep gasps causing them to bounce up and down in time with his breath. No way. No fucking way. He moaned in-between gasps as he brought his hands up to grope and jiggle them, digging his fingers eagerly into the mountains of pec meat protruding from his chest. They were equally as hard as they were soft. Bounce, bounce, bounce. This was hot as fuck! Jolts of pure sexual electricity shot through him as he brushed his hands over his new, extra sensitive nipples, craning his thick neck forward to see the two tanned, salami sized culprits hardened to attention, just begging to be sucked and squeezed. He was about to flick them when he noticed how big and meaty his hands had gotten, thick sausage fingers connected to palms that would have engulfed his old ones, and yet somehow still weren’t big enough to fully cup either of his pecs.

Suddenly he had an idea he couldn’t resist. Giggling, he took a big meaty finger, stuck it between his big meaty pecs, and started fucking them with it. He was fucking his pecs! He moaned out his own name, laughing as he did, getting faster and faster, groping his ass with his other giant paw of a hand. Fuck, was that his ass? He craned his neck around to get a look at what felt like two ginormous globes of pure butt - and that was a pretty apt description. If his muscles were the beef, this was definitely the cake. And god, did he desperately want a hot stud to put some icing on it. He was so caught up in his muscled ass that he barely noticed the nine inch bratwurst sausage between his legs thicken up, fat and hard. Everything was so big. Fuck, he was sexed-up. Even his sweat was sexier. The pearly droplets simmered on his muscled-up skin like oil in a hot skillet - like he was a tenderloin being cooked by his own immense body heat. It felt incredible. It was as if now instead of sweat, every pore on his body produced fat drops of hot precum, rolling down and lubing up every new bulging inch of him. His jus. Was there anything that little bar of Beefcake hadn’t changed? He wiped the sweat away from his face, and something felt different. Actually, his whole face felt different. Fuck. He had to see this. Bradley took off with huge, lumbering strides towards the bathroom mirror.

Woah. He was blonde. And his eyes had crystallised into two glittering, chalcedony gemstones, framed by a pair of seductive eyebrows that gave him a permanent look of seduction. He traced a thick finger down his newly squared and angular jawline, all the way to his superhero chin. Oh, shit. His mouth. His medium-rare lips were huge, and his long, thick, meaty tongue felt like it barely fit in his mouth. He opened wide and it spilled out with a meaty slap, hanging just below his chin. Oh god, his tongue must be bigger than his dick used to be. He had a fuck-machine in his mouth! A deep moan quivered out of his throat as he slid it over his pillowy lips, his giant knees threatening to buckle. They tasted good; juicy, tender and salty with sweat. Cooked to perfection. There must have been a crumb of Beefcake still on his big lips, because they suddenly tingled and puffed up even bigger - he almost went cross-eyed at the sensation.  He gave his best lets-go-back-to-my-place smirk to the mirror, followed by a fuck-me-harder face that made him wanna fuck himself. Screw eye candy. Bradley was a full course meal. An eye buffet. Except, he wasn’t Bradley anymore. He was Brad.

And Brad… Well, Brad was hot, sweaty, pumped and hard. He had two thoughts: lift and fuck. Brad needed to try out his new body - find a big jock with an ass as fat as his to pump his beefcake load into. And that meant he was headed to the gym. He bounced his pecs, gave his hungry dick a hefty grab, and winked at the mirror. Before he left, though, there was one thing he needed to do.

Brad swaggered into the kitchen and grabbed those thin celery sticks with his goliath hands, crushing a few just from his grip, and tossed them straight into the garbage. With that out of the way, it was time for a taste test.

So, then. Which one of those lucky jocks would be the first to take a bite?

[oracle-in-the-garden]

[oracle-in-the-garden]

Drip.

Wade peered through his large glasses at the murky white-ish liquid falling from his ceiling into the bucket.

Drip

He gave a sigh of annoyance as his expensive gaming laptop whirred to life, grumbling about having to call maintenance and however much he was paying for this place.

Drip.

Wade’s nose wrinkled as a slight whiff of BO reached his nose. “Ugh” he shivered, reaching his arm up to check his pit. Dry. Huh. Wade turned back to his laptop, typing the first line of his email before—

Drip.

The sound echoed off the bare walls as the smell assaulted him again. “What the hell?” Wade turned around again and set his laptop on the desk, peering into the bucket.

Drip.

Wade gagged as another wave of that god awful BO stench hit him in the face, but then he paused, staring down at the murky off-white liquid slowly filling the bucket.

Drip.

He sniffed again, breathing a little deeper. The smell had become more intense as the bucket began to fill up and—

Drip.

His brow furrowed as he let a little more of the smell in, the bucket beginning to smell like a locker room or a runner’s pit on a hot summer day. "W-Wait" Wade stammered. How did he know what that would smell like?

Drip.

The odor made his eyes flutter slightly as he stared down at the bucket, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Drip.

“Mmmm” Wade breathed deeply, his mind blurring at the edges. It was becoming harder to think the more of the manly musk he let in. He blinked, feeling the front of his jeans tent slightly, his vision going dark…

Drip. Drip. Drip….

“Ahh! Wade shot awake. How long had he been here? His mind darted, it was dark outside now.

Drip.

His eyes peered back at the bucket, now half full, gagging again at the smell, posters now peeling off the walls, the surfaces slick with some sort of liquid.

“Agh!” Wade brought his hand to his mouth, suppressing the urge to vomit as he raced to the door, jiggling the slick handle only to find it locked.

“W-what…” Wade started to panic as the fuzziness began to return to his mind, turning slowly to face the leak.

Drip.

Wade breathed deeply, letting the scent of a hundred sweaty jockstraps enter him, the wave of stench sending him to his knees. His vision blurred as his mouth hung open, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as the fumes sent a shock through his body, causing his member to tent his pants, straining against the denim.

Drip. Drip.

He moaned as he unzipped his jeans, letting his throbbing erection spring free as he shucked his shirt and jacket, throwing them across the room.

Drip.

As the stench of stale sweat washed over him, his mind melted into the puddle of musk. His eyes rolled involuntarily as his head lolled back, his dick already dripping with precum.

Compelled by some force, the nerd began to pull his pale, thin body across the floor towards the bucket, with each breath feeling like he was inhaling a locker room’s worth of ripe, cheesy musk.

His hand gripped the bucket, bringing the rim to his nose and inhaling the fumes, moaning into the rim as his body shook. His eyes fluttered again as his hand gripped his cock as he began to stroke.

It was impossible for him to think, the only thing he could feel was the smell, his mind becoming mush.

He couldn't stop his hand, his strokes speeding up as the scent of musk filled his mind, his hand moving faster and faster, the scent filling him with a primal urge, his body writhing on the floor, his mind a blurry mess as he stroked himself faster, his mind lost to the musky aroma.

Despite the small part of his brain telling me not to, Wade knew what to do, reaching out his tongue to catch one of the drops.

Drip.

Instantly, his body was wracked with heat. Wade fell back onto the floor as sweat began to pour out of his pores as if he had just finished a long, grueling game in the heat. His glasses were quickly coated in a layer of steam, making the world around him blurry.

He didn't care.

Wade continued to stroke himself, his body tensing as his hands moved faster and faster, the sensation building up in his abdomen.

Drip.

More. He needed more. More of that intoxicating smell. Wade pulled himself across the floor towards the bucket, lifting himself so his lips could lap up the sweaty droplets.

The taste was incredible.

Wade's eyes rolled into the back of his head once more as the taste of the pure, unadulterated musk exploded across his tongue. His hand pumped his cock faster and faster as he lapped at the bucket. He could barely think, the taste sending him over the edge.

Wade let out a loud moan as his body began to shake, the smell sending his body into overdrive. He could barely hear his own screams of pleasure over the sound of his blood pumping in his ears, as he started to feel his body change.

His arms were the first to feel the effects. The skinny limbs started to bulge, his muscles growing larger, thicker, and stronger. Wade could barely notice, his mind lost in the smell. His body was shaking, his back arching as his torso expanded, his stomach becoming rock hard, his pecs becoming two firm mounds, his shoulders becoming broader.

Drip.

Wade continued to moan as he felt his chest grow heavier, his pecs growing into large, round melons. He could barely think, the sensation was so overwhelming. He couldn't stop stroking, his cock continuing to grow, his balls becoming two large, swollen orbs. His hair was plastered to his head, the sweat dripping from his body.

He could feel his body changing, his muscles growing, his ass becoming rounder, his hips becoming wider. His cock continued to grow, his balls becoming larger and larger, until they were obscene and drooping.

Drip.

Wade was a sweaty, writhing mass on the floor, his body shaking, his cock leaking precum. His hair was plastered to his face, growing longer and unkempt as the sweat poured down his cheeks, his mouth hanging open, his tongue lolling out.

Drip.

Wade groaned and whimpered as more drops began to fall from the ceiling, landing on his chest and causing his muscles to clench, his back arching. The sweat dripped down his face, his neck, his chest, his back, his arms, his legs, his feet, his toes, his fingers.

Drip.

Every drop caused his muscles to spasm, his body convulsing, his cock leaking more precum. His pecs were so large, he could barely see over them. His ass was so round, he couldn't even sit properly.

Drip.

His entire body was covered in sweat, his entire body dripping with it. He could feel his balls tightening, his cock twitching.

Drip.

He moaned and whimpered as his face cracked and changed, becoming model-like, his glasses breaking and falling to the floor.

Drip.

He groaned, the scent sending his mind into overdrive, his body twitching and convulsing. His muscles were so large, they were bursting through his clothes.

Drip.

Every muscle in his body was on fire, his body drenched in sweat. He could barely think, his mind overwhelmed by the scent.

Drip.

He gasped as he felt his mind go blank, his body shaking as he came. His orgasm was so powerful, his balls contracted, forcing the cum to spurt out of his cock. The force was so great, the stream of cum flew through the air, covering the room.

Drip.

"Ah!" Wade gasped as the drops fell onto his skin, sending waves of pleasure through his body, his cock spraying his seed all over the room.

Drip.

The drops kept falling, causing Wade's orgasm to continue, his body shaking. He could barely think, his mind was swimming as all paths of higher thought were permanently wiped away, replaced by an unending desire to bury himself in the pits and crotches of sweaty men. His hair grew out, becoming blonde and shaggy, signifying his permanent change.

Drip.

It was not for hours that he finally left the house; but the Wade who walked in would never return.

[oracle-in-the-garden]

[oracle-in-the-garden]

[oracle-in-the-garden]

So I'm a chubby gay White guy, any chance you could turn me into a muscular gay East Asian guy that's a jock that still likes stuff like anime? Or biracial, as long as the more dominant heritage is something like Chinese, Japanese, Korean or Taiwanese.

I'd prefer a build anywhere between a like swimmer/tennis players build, a baseball players build, or a football/rugby players build, I'm not really that picky as long as I have decent abs.

How can a package smell like that?

That's the first thing you think when you pull it from outside. Jesus it's like an armpit in your place just that quickly.

You ordered a bath bomb from that weird website, just out of curiosity and half expecting it to be some kind of scam. You were watching Chainsaw Man when you got a knock on your door. It's one of those soft packages that Amazon sometimes uses but with YourNewBody stamped on it. And at the bottom, rolling around, is the bath bomb.

You open it and get a gamey wallop of pure musk to your face. Images flash through your skull: used jockstraps and cups, sweaty hairy armpits just inches from your face, locker rooms.

You've never even had those thoughts before so why do they feel so....familiar. Like memories almost.

Oh.

You're hard. Your cock pitching a serious tent in your boxers. The muscles flex involuntarily and you groan.

You take the bath bomb out of the package. It's see through and kind of murky from the fluid inside? You've never seen one like this. Hell you've never smelled one like this. You bring it to your nose, take a big whiff.....

And nearly cream your boxers right then and there. Another image: this time of you bent over in a dugout while your teammate - wait teammate - fucks you from behind, your smells - smells? - mixing together despite the open air space. Stranger still, you can't even imagine your body in this memory - fantasy, not a memory, a fantasy - which adds to the artificial feeling of it. You want to see what it'll smell like when you drop it in water.

So you go to your bathtub and fill it. Not even fully comprehending you walking to the tub and plugging in the stopper, and turning on the water. There's a distinctly quieter voice telling you that something is very, very wrong. It's drowned out by this increasing fuzziness, like TV static is filling your head. You should be thinking about your D&D session tomorrow. You should be thinking about trying to get some sleep.

But you're not thinking about that, are you?

Your swollen cockhead seems to become your actual brain. You're fondling the bath bomb like a pair of balls in your hand. What kind of balls? For a split second it's a baseball. Then it's the swinging, sagging, fat, sweaty, hairy, musky balls of one of your teammates, pent up and swollen after a long, hard game. He's fucking your throat while his balls slap your chin. "Good boy." His voice is deep and rough.

That fantasy memory is particularly powerful and compelling.

"UHHHHH."

You open your eyes, both of them bugging out. Both at the loud, whimpering moan you just unleashed and at the involuntary word switch. The static in your head clears just long enough for you to accidentally drop the bath bomb in your bathtub, and it starts dissolving the moment it contacts the water.

The murky liquid spills out and turns your bathwater into pure jock sweat.

The smell it unleashes is intoxicating. Your bathroom is becoming a steamy sauna. The mirror fogs. Your glasses fog and you take them off. Dampness appears on the walls, smelling just like your sweaty bathwater.

You stagger and collapse on the toilet, squirming as you roll your underwater down and kick them off. Tossing them in a pile on the corner. You take your socks off and toss them on top of your boxers. You grip onto the sink as your cock becomes steel. You've never been this hard in your life.

I need to - I need to cum! Holy shit I need to CUM!

You flex your cock - voluntarily this time - and that's all it takes to start cumming. Your orgasm is mind numbingly intense. All you can do is curl your toes and clench your fists, throw your head back and squeeze your eyes shut as you shoot a fountain of cum, it splattering loudly on the tile floor.

After about a minute, it's over.

You open your eyes.

Your cock shouldn't still be hard.

You should be in your - in your - in your...

You should probably be a little scared at the fact that you cannot think of the term refractory period. In fact, it feels like 90% of higher thinking is just shut off for right now. The other 10% is frantically trying to claw back to the surface of this dense, but pleasant fog that's settled in your head. The 90% of you that's in command gets off the toilet and steps towards the alluring smell of your bathwater. You stare at the musky steam rising off it. Your dazed face looking back at you in the water.

You put one foot in. Then the other. You start hyperventilating like you're getting into a cold pool, but the water is so warm. So cozy and inviting. You hold onto the bathtub as you sink into the water. First your ass, then your legs, then your balls and twitching cock.

Then the rest of your body falls as you lose your balance, feet scrambling on the slippery floor as the water envelops your cock. The sensation is so intense you just spasm and let yourself fall. As the entirety of your body falls into the water, droplets landing into your open, panting mouth and on your flushed face, your body sinks a little into the water. You're more compact now. 5'5". Pocket sized really. That shedded mass lands squarely in your balls and they become swollen with your lost height. They touch the bottom of the tub as your legs kick and writhe, splashing water onto the floor. They grow into the huge baseballs you like squeezing when there's downtime, just to feel balls in your hands.

Bigger balls mean more hormones.

The flush of them causes your cock to stretch. And while it's stretching, your pubes grow into the perfect, tangled mess of a landing pad for the syrupy pre-cum that's leaking into the water. You surpass your average length of 4 and a half inches with ease and cruise steadily into 5 and a half. You're moaning with wanton abandon now. That 10% that was concerned about such silly things such as "modesty" has evaporated to like 5% now, and it's a losing battle, because you're leaking with no end in sight as your cock crests to 6 and a half inches. You pump an even larger amount of pre as your beard falls out and lands in the water. With each gush of thicker pre, your body hair just melts away and floats like flotsam in the water. Your armpit hair is still as thick - if not thicker. Your cock finally stops growing at 7 and a half, pulsing, throbbing, inches.

You try your damnedest to steady your breathing. Your cock sticks up proudly in the water, the swollen, purple-ish head nearly breaching the surface. You use all of your might to look down and see that bigger cock. The thicker pubes. Your legs are spread wide to make room for your balls. You place your hands on your lower stomach, your fingers caught in your pubes. It's trembling, quaking. As you look down, huffing and puffing, your chubby stomach suddenly collapses.

The fat doesn't disappear, no, it just makes its presence known behind your nipples which pop out like a distressed belly button. The skin stretches and the nubs pop out and into the water. You're practically screaming with pleasure as the fat in your stomach melts away and slides to your pecs, your abs popping out one by one into a tight six pack, cum gutters sprouting in your thicker waist and pointing to that unbelievably hard cock of yours.

Your pecs inflate with fat and muscle, like big floaties strapped to your chest. You can feel the weight of them as they blow up with muscle and fat, all of the underdeveloped muscles breaking and tearing, strengthening and becoming so much stronger, so much more powerful. You're squirming like a caught rattlesnake right now, water just going everywhere. The crease between your pecs is mouthwatering. Your pink nipples are so suckable. Your abs finally finish growing and settling in. Your pecs heave one final time and crest over them, your underboob just as sensitive as the massive flesh sacs above themselves. You're flooded with memories of your teammates tugging and playing with your tits. Some of them sucking on the fat nipples. Coach massaging oil onto them after a good workout.

Your cock is leaking a steady stream of actual cum but it's not a true orgasm, just a mini one because your body cannot handle this constant edging. Something has to give, right? There's less water in the tub since your body is absorbing the sweaty, thick water.

Your traps fan out and help your shoulders thicken with powerful muscle. You can feel how strong and powerful that neck of yours is. The growth flows downwards into your biceps, arms blowing up so quickly they start rubbing against your pecs, making up come harder and yelp. Your forearms thicken up and your hands - your small little hands - blow up into meaty paws. You take your arms out of the water - god they're so heavy - and expose your rank pit to the air.

None of your teammates are around so your own pit will have to do. Your other hand worships and rubs your abs.

You lick and kiss your fat, bulging bicep. Your feet stretch bigger, wider, longer. The less than 1% of the old you left marvels at your size 7 feet bloating into massive size 14 stompers, your toes and soles crawling up the tub and breaching the water's surface.

You're fucking an invisible ass. With every thrust of your stronger, wider hips, your own ass starts growing. You've experienced a massive amount of weight loss and fat redistribution, and conservation of mass requires that shaved off mass to go somewhere. It can't go to your pecs, so it fills up your ass and stretches your hole like it's made of rubber. Your ass is going to be the talk of the town. You won't be able to hide it. Visible through your pants, chewing up boxers and briefs, absolutely stretching out any jockstrap you wear. Jiggling and so enticing, literally striking men dumb and horny. And once they get a taste of that puckering hole - or even better, fuck it - they'll be just as blank and dumb as you are.

There's nothing left of the old you. All of those old worries and thoughts flood into your ass, converted into pure, strong muscle, making that fat ass perky and sit higher on your lower body.

Your thighs expand with muscle and fat, inflating and rubbing together, squeezing your balls and making you squeal. Your calves brush up against the tub, flexing and becoming massive. Your legs have the ability to carry that dumpy of yours and then some. You can carry your teammates for miles. You can straddle and ride a dick into the sunset. Your hole is built for milking every last drop out of your teammates' - and Coach's? - balls. They're pure bulk, those legs, and strong enough to crush a watermelon.

You scream as your face collapses and rearranges. Bone structure becomes more defined as your jaw hardens and your cheekbones become softly pronounced. Your nose pops bigger into the crook of your elbow and your sense of smell actually improves. You take in all your musk, and all the musk of the bathwater all at once. You can even smell the cum boiling in your balls, so you know you're closer than ever.

Your brain shrinks even further. You're only really able to piece together basic sentences and even then, it's gonna take a while for you to construct it and speak it. And when you're horny? Forget about it. You're only thinking about your teammates and pleasing Coach. The next game. You don't really play all that much, but you're a good distraction for the opposing team. No matter how good of a pitcher, they'll make easy mistakes because they'll be too busy staring at your bountiful ass squeezed into your uniform. And if you remember to wear a shirt, your nipples poking against the fabric and those swaying tits when you don't remember to wear a shirt. The latter option happens more often.

You grab your cock with both hands - yes it's a two-hander now - and you start fucking your fist. As you fuck your fist, your body goes through the last change. Your white skin begins darkening, well beyond a normal tan. You're changing race. You open your eyes, for just a second, as you watch your face rearrange one final time and you become Korean. You shut your eyes again as the tan spreads to your tits, beefs them up further, the color spreading to your pink nipples and making them dark and even more sensitive. It spreads down to your abs and arms. Wherever it touches, that area of your body beefs up.

Bigger biceps, bigger shoulders, stronger abs.

Thicker pubes.

Stronger thighs and bigger calves.

Then it hits your cock.

And you explode.

Your cock darkens and your balls become even bigger. You gain that half inch and become a full, mighty, 8 inches hard. Your cum is so thick. Musky. You hug yourself as you cum hands free, hips bucking, balls swinging. You don't see the water absorb your cum, keeping it clear but even smellier.

You finally stop cumming.

Open your eyes just a bit, prettier eyelashes fluttering.

You are hot shit.

You slowly rise out of the water. Muscles exhausted. Cumming is its own workout. You step out of the tub and onto the tiles with your bigger feet. Your cock softens yes but it's gonna exist at a permanent, dripping semi 99% of the time. The 1% reserved for sleeping really.

"Oh, I should probably let the water out huhuh."

You reach into the water. Moaning as the smell hits you in the face. You let it drain, along with your cum and lost body hair.

You see your boxers and socks on the floor but even from here they look too small. You don't think anything of it - mostly because you can't really think anymore. You must've bought the wrong size by accident. You're not totally helpless - hey you've made it this far in life with that dull brain of yours, you've got your own apartment and everything - but sometimes you let easy things slip by you.

You stumble out of the bathroom. Holding onto the walls for support. You're not used to this weight. This sensitivity. The way everything feels so heavy. You let slip a dumb laugh as you creep into your bedroom.

Your laptop's on the bed. The screen open. It's buzzing with notifications. You don't recognize the names. You try your hardest to force a connection in your cotton candy brain but nothing comes up.

"What's a D&D?"

Your meaty chest rises and falls. You close out the text messaging app. People are asking for some guy whose name you don't even know, asking if you're ready for tomorrow's session. Probably the wrong number. The only thing you've got going on tomorrow is practice. Which lets be honest - the only thing getting "practiced" is that insatiable hole of yours, and your throat.

You search around but can't find anything to put in your twitching asshole. You shrug and stick two fingers in your ass and start fingering yourself. Your just used cock rising to attention, as you look at your computer screen.

Holy shit you forgot you were watching Chainsaw Man! You fill with glee. You love this show! Any anime really because it's pretty easy for you to follow and you don't get bored.

Now, if only you could just remember what episode you were on .....

[oracle-in-the-garden]

Fratification

Daniel was quiet, well-mannered, and stuck out like a sore thumb among his rowdy fraternity brothers. It's not like joining a frat was his decision; his father forced him to uphold family tradition. He tried adjusting, but it was impossible. The frat life just wasn't him, especially as the only gay guy. However, right before depledging, his fraternity brothers were able to successfully "change" his mind at the last second.

When the frat realized how hard it was for Daniel to adapt to their way of life, they knew he needed a little fine-tuning. After successfully pressuring a few beers into him, weakening his resistance, a few brothers used their infamous hypno skills on his newly mushed mind. They spent hours of what could have been spent on partying assimilating his mind and personality to theirs, so it totally was their good deed of the day! From that permanent conversion on, Daniel was interchangeable with any of the loud, cocky, and insanely wild frat bros.

The new and improved Daniel, "Danny-boy," is dumb as a rock, an aggressive pussyhound, and extremely obnoxious with his belches—proudly coining himself "the belch king!"

[oracle-in-the-garden]

An Easy Ride

Mitch stood outside the college gym, his heart racing. What would he do if Kurt caught him? Would he get beaten up? It didn’t matter, Mitch tried to make himself look busy on his phone as he saw Kurt leaving the gym walking with his usual confidence except for a slight limp seemingly from pulling a muscle. The man stunk of cheap body spray and sweat and wore a sweat drenched hoodie and shorts. Mitch didn’t understand how any guy could be so proud to be such a Neanderthal. Even though Mitch knew he’d look odd walking into a gym with his current outfit, he’d rather a few strange looks than be caught looking like a brute to can’t wipe between his cheeks.

Mitch resented Kurt, he’d worked so hard to get into his college. Years of studying and dedication seemingly for nothing when a guy like Kurt can come in on a wresting scholarship. So he groped guys on a mat in a stinking gym, what was so difficult about that? Mitch believed it was stupid and absurd, but most of all unfair. How come he got an easy ride for college? So today he’d take matters into his own hands. He reached the locker room and searched for Kurt’s name. Steven’s. No. Alejandro. Also no. Ahh, Kurt Carnel. He had it. After a few seconds of trying to fiddle with the lock he managed to pry open the locker. Bingo! Kurt’s wrestling gear. As Mitch grabbed it to throw it in his bag he noticed how damp it felt in his hands and how their stench wafted into his face, burning his nostrils. God did this man ever wash his kit? Maybe it was more of a favour Mitch was gonna burn it, maybe then he could get some fresh clothes. As he reached for the last item in the locker, Kurt’s jockstrap, Mitch paused for a moment. He didn’t know why but the smell of it, something about it was alluring to him. He wanted more of it, and like a moth to a flame, Mitch held the jock up to his nose. He breathed in deeply. It was wet and stained. Very clearly unwashed but it smelt so good. As he tried to pry himself away from the jock he felt a breeze across his body. Looking down he yelled, “Shit!! What happened to my clothes?!” Mitch was standing in the lockers stark naked. He looked into the bag of Kurt’s stuff and even around the locker but his clothes were nowhere to be seen. Then he looked at the jock in his hand. If he didn’t want to be caught naked he was going to have to put on the only clothes he had available. Kurt’s. He slowly slipped the worn fabric of the jock up his skinny legs until it sat comfortably on his crotch. It actually felt nice. Then there was a footstep behind him. BAMM!

Mitch was face down on the floor, ass in the air. He clutched the side of his head and felt it pulsing. Before he had time to collect himself he felt a hand grab at the strap of the jock and drag him towards a bench. The sleek floor of the locker squeaked against Mitch’s exposed stomach until he was hoisted into the air and thrown onto a nearby bench. Looking up he could see Kurt standing above him. “Seems like I picked the right guy.”

“What the fuck?” was all Mitch could mutter before his face was held against Kurt’s package in his sweaty shorts.

Mitch’s eyes rolled back as the BO emanating from Kurt’s package clung to his face and embedded itself into his pours. The smell was putrid but Mitch had no choice but to keep breathing it in, deeper and deeper. With each breath he felt hotter as his skin began to sweat profusely. Sweat dripped down his forehead and back and ran down his face and arms. He felt his exposed ass get a meaty slap causing his cute cheeks to jiggle. “We’ll make a wrestler out of you don’t worry kid.” Before Mitch passed out from the heat of Kurt’s crotch, he was pushed away. he should have been panicked but all he could think was how he wanted more.

“Ayy seems like my musk is already taking effect, coach said it’d be potent.” Kurt chuckled as he saw with each breath, Mitch’s chest started to grow. His once small chest began to puff out as two meaty pecs began to form. They grew round and almost soft. He cupped them with one hand to find they felt like juicy tits. With his pecs growing meatier the rest of his body followed suit. Without realising Mitch was flexing his biceps as they grew bigger and stronger. His thighs and calves inflated like balloons until they were thick and sturdy. Perfect for keeping his ground. A tight six pack also began to pop into existence as his neck began to thicken with muscle like a bull. He groped and squeezed at his growing body as it filled in. He looked like bodybuilder. No scratch that, a wrestler.

“See Mitch, when I tore the ligament in my leg I thought my wrestling season was going to be over. No more scholarship! But then coach said I could find someone to fill in for me whilst I recovered and when I found out you had some vendetta against me I knew you’d be perfect.” Mitch looked at Kurt confused. “Ven-vende-vendetta?”

Kurt laughed at Mitch’s confused expression. And nodded. “Yeah you have one against me dummy or did you forget?” Mitch just continued looking vacantly at Kurt. “But what’s a vendetta?” This caused Kurt to burst into even more laughter.

“Damn coach was right, I guess we really are swapping smarts too. Luckily I get to keep this body and I can train you but for the mean time I need to take another course so with your smarts I should do pretty well for myself. I see you’ve probably taken too many hits to the head hey big guy with cauliflower ears like that!”

Mitch raised his thick meaty ands up to his ears and with his sausage fingers he felt the sore, inflated cartilage. He really was becoming a dumb wrestler. “Yeah Mitch, I’m afraid your brain is going to be a bit mushy for a while.”

Before Mitch had a chance to gather his bearings in his changed body Kurt had him on his feet and stepping into his wresting singlet. As the fabric was pulled up his body the more and more his head felt like cotton. Any complex thoughts or long words became just out of reach for Mitch as he tried to rationalise what was happening. He should have been panicking but he was becoming far too dumb to really understand what was going on. Difficult thoughts were replaced by simple images in his head. Images of how to tackle and wrestle. How to stand is ground and work out. But not much more. With the singlet on, Mitch was being led into the wrestling studio of the gym where the coach was waiting for him. “Oh you’ll need this champ.” Kurt said as he pulled out a used mouth guard from his bag and shoved it into Mitch’s mouth.

Mitch looked at the coach with that same vacant expression plastered permanently to his face. “You did well kid,” the coach said patting Kurt on the back, “he’ll do very nicely whilst you get healed up. Okay Mitchy! Let’s get in a neutral position so we can see what we’re working with”

By the end of the day the coach had been going through drill after drill with Mitch making sure he perfected his wrestling. He was going to be the college star until Kurt was ready to wrestle again. Even then coach didn’t want his star athletes in the same weight class so decided to move Mitch up as he was the newbie. With a little protein, gainer shakes and training Mitch was looking a lot thicker and ready to stand his ground. Plush the extra padding definitely helped in tournaments. Wrestlers didn’t need abs anyway.

[oracle-in-the-garden]

M-PAD pt.2

Synopsis:

After a hidden U.S. government lab facility was blown up due to an accidental chemical reaction, prototypes of an attempt at a cure for aging and rare skin diseases were thought to have been destroyed. One syringe containing the prototype survived the the explosion, and was discovered by someone hiking near the area. After he accidentally injected it, the ‘Mutation of Physical Attributes Disease’ or ‘M-PAD’ was born. A virus so powerful that it can reshape your body into what you subconsciously desire, and you wouldn’t even know the difference. Soon it will spread and infect everyone throughout the town of the index case, and eventually, the entire world.

——————————————————————————

Part 1!

https://bodilychanges.tumblr.com/post/619216025245941760/m-pad-pt1

——————————————————————————

Me n’ my Bro

“Dad I swear you never let me do a thing!” a girl yelled at her father.

“I can’t let you go outside! Jenna you know why,” the father yelled back.

“I’ll be fine! I won’t touch anyone and I’ll stay away from anyone who coughs. I’m sick of being stuck here with you!” Jenna argued.

“I’m sick of it too you know!” her dad asserted.

Jenna’s face was painted with anger. “I wish you weren’t so controlling! Maybe if I had a better relationship with you!”

“Really? Fine go then! Come back sick and see what happens!” the father screamed as Jenna ran out the door.

It had been like this for a few weeks now. After a few cases of M-PAD started to appear, a sudden increase in cases began to show up near the town closest to the now-destroyed lab. The people of the town were instructed to go under quarantine to prevent the spread of the virus, but many like Jenna ignored and needed space from their homes.

Jenna’s father, Ron, sat down to watch the local news for more information on the new virus. “Now we do have a few reports of the symptoms of the virus, such as coughing and sneezing on other people, but what happens to you is the most interesting part. A couple of sources have informed us that those infected go through a gradual physical change of their bodies. If you begin to experience changes please contact authorities immediately before it’s too—”

Out of nowhere, Jenna opened the door and began storming up to her room. “See that wasn’t that long was it dad?”

“Young lady you get back here and- ugh,” Ron sat back down and gave up. After the divorce from his wife a few years ago, it was tough trying to raise Jenna when he knew nothing about girl stuff. Tomorrow he would try to talk to her about it as he started to drift away on his couch. The last thing he heard was a slight cough coming from his daughters room. Weird.

Day 2

“Hey dad I’m sorry about yesterday,” Jenna apologized.

“It’s fine sweetie and i’m sorry too. I know you wanna go outside but it’s just that I can’t risk losing you too,” Ron solemnly explained.

“It’s okay dad you won’t I promise,” Jenna assured, but something inside told her this was a lie.

After exchanging apologies and talking it out, Jenna went back to her room to finish her school work. She had been feeling cold the entire day although it was regular, warm day outside. It couldn’t be, could it? She hadn’t seen anyone on her run outside yesterday, except for this hot, shirtless black guy on a run. He stopped to talk to her and it was a short interaction, he just gave her his number and continued running.

Shrugging the idea off, she went downstairs to make a cup of tea, but as she passed her dads room, she heard a few small coughs escape his lips. It was flu season and she hoped that maybe she just caught the flu somehow, but she knew it was something worse.

Later that day she got a text message from the guy she ran into. She smiled, even though he said ‘bro’ a lot and didn’t seem very smart, Jenna knew that he wasn’t the cause of her sickness, or so she thought.

Day 8

She and her dad were now coughing almost constantly. They were still arguing however, about how Jenna had caught M-PAD somehow. Because they were sick in a now contained and contaminated area, the infection became stronger by the hour and soon their bodies began changing. The changes were unnoticeable to them, since the changes that occurred felt like they happened their whole lives.

“Hey Marcus,” Jenna said as she approached her new boyfriend.

“Sup sexy,” Marcus remarked, putting his huge hands around her waist and ass.

Jenna had been leaving the house to see Marcus, the guy she met the first day, throughout the week started to talk a lot more. Who could blame them, they were bored and horny because of the quarantine. She left the house through her window to go see him. Although she knew her father would be angry if he knew about this, she didn’t care. Virus or no virus she needed a life.

Even though her sickness got worse and worse every time she saw Marcus, she didn’t want to believe he was sick as he had never coughed or sneezed once when she was there.

Over the days, Jenna felt more masculine then she had before. Sure she was always a tomboy of sorts, but she even started to watch sports games or work out in her houses small gym. She was a little less sick, but the urge to get stronger was uncontrollable. Weirdly, the more she worked out, the more her boobs got smaller and harder. Nonetheless, she had daily workout sessions with her father, who definitely was more relatable and understanding than before.

Similarly, Ron also felt much more youthful. Wrinkles and stretchmarks disappeared as memories of lifting weights and cardio surfaced. He taught his daughter everything he knew about fitness and now with them home together, she and him worked out together. Though they were both sick, when they worked out it was almost like they weren’t anymore. They still argued a lot but it felt more like a brother and sister argument than a father and daughter one.

Day 17

“Hey sis,” Ron greeted Jenna as she walked downstairs for breakfast.

Jenna lightly coughed and replied, “Morning bro, ready already?”

“Yeah. I hope you don’t mind, I got a sesh or two in while you slept,” Ron explained.

“All good bro,” Jenna said, running her fingers through her hair. Although it was shorter and curlier than she remembered, she payed no mind.

After eating, the two siblings talked about random things, sports or school work as they really only had themselves. Both their parents were out of state at the time to attend a conference about the virus so they had the house to themselves. They argued from time to time but nothing too major. The love of the gym tied them together whether they liked it or not.

Entering the gym, the immediate smell of musk and sweat hit there noses. Afraid the virus would somehow escape their house through the air, the siblings decided to close all the windows in the house, including the gym. The virus had definitely weakened over the past weeks, turning from serious fevers to small coughs. The two siblings changed into their smelly, virus infected gym clothes that they had been using.

Ron stretched his arms and legs before starting to lift. He watched his sister start running on the treadmill without a second thought. He scoffed, knowing a quick stretch or a warm up was the best way to work out. Though they were siblings, they didn’t really look too much alike. Wait. Didn’t they? No, no, of course they did. Robert was told all his life that his sister was almost his twin. Because of this, John even asked Jenna to get a perm so people could tell the difference. Honestly, Julius was inseparable from his younger sibling, they even went to the same college, liked the same girls, and owned the same instagram account. Julian loved his younger brother despite their small arguments- Wait. Brother?

Jenna got on the treadmill while her older brother lifted weights. Putting her headphones in, a song Jasmine didn’t recognize before began to play. It was a rap song about sex and though unfamiliar, she started to sync her footsteps to the songs beat. The songs lyrics made her think about her boyfriend, and because of this, Jesse got a little turned on. Focusing on her running, she didn’t notice the small bump forming in her red compression shorts, pushing out of her vagina as Justin thought about Marcus, his cock, his abs, he was a sexy hunk and it was impossible to not think about his boyfriend- Wait. Boyfriend?

Justin’s “new” dick had full pushed out and formed and it was visible through his red compression shorts. He tried to stop thinking about sex before his dick got too hard before his brother noticed. While trying to cover up, the younger brother walked to the bathroom to relieve himself of his problem, as he had been doing all of quarantine, in his mind. Unfortunately, the solid bulge visible through his shorts caught Julian’s eye.

“Bro where you goin’,” Julian asked, putting the weights he was lifting down.

“U-uh just to the bathroom dude. Be right back,” Justin explained nervously, trying to get away before his brother saw his boner.

“Nah come here bro, lemme help out,” offered Julian, kind of getting turned on himself.

“But we’re bro’s, ain’t that a little weird?” Justin questioned. Subconsciously, Justin was begging for Julian to disagree as he had dreamt about his brother fucking him a few times.

“Nah nah, i’m good wit’ it bro,” Julian reassured as he got up and pulled his brother’s red shorts down. “Quarantine’s been making me super horny dude, you have no idea.”

“Same bro,” Justin agreed awkwardly.

“Lemme help you then,” Julian offered as he wrapped his sweaty hand around his brothers throbbing meat. “Think of it like a bro-job, you know, just helping my bro out.”

Justin gulped and slowly nodded his head. He had received hundreds of handjobs from other girls in his memory but unbeknownst to him, this was really his first. Julian spat on his brothers smaller fuckstick, compared to his, and stroked it with his sweaty hands. Small grunts and whimpers could be heard escaping from Justin’s plump lips, and that only fueled Julian’s horniness, causing hand to stroke faster. The younger brother looked at him almost beggingly, and Julian knew what to do. He knew his brother was almost at his climax so in an abrupt motion, he deepthroated his brother’s full 8 inches, causing Justin to empty his viscous, white substance pump after pump in his older brothers throat. Julian swallowed every single drop of his brothers salty yet saccharine icing, while palming the massive bulge of his 10 inch meat in his grey compression shorts.

The brothers panted, almost in unison, breathing in the smell of the musky, hot room they were in. “There, now you owe me one bro.”

“Sure brah, thanks,” Justin responded through pants, his dick still hard and desperate for another run.

“Yo, you wanna post something for insta dude? You know, give our bitches a lil’ sumn to drool over,” the older brother asked, adjusting his still-hard cock through his grey compression shorts.

“You know it bro,” Justin answered, walking over to the mirror with his brother to take a picture for their 6.9k fans on Instagram. Truthfully, it was a good ass day to have a bro as sexy as him.

[oracle-in-the-garden]

M-PAD pt.3

Synopsis:

After a hidden U.S. government lab facility was blown up due to an accidental chemical reaction, prototypes of an attempt at a cure for aging and rare skin diseases were thought to have been destroyed. One syringe containing the prototype survived the the explosion, and was discovered by someone hiking near the area. After he accidentally injected it, the ‘Mutation of Physical Attributes Disease’ or ‘M-PAD’ was born. A virus so powerful that it can reshape your body into what you subconsciously desire, and you wouldn’t even know the difference. Soon it will spread and infect everyone throughout the town of the index case, and eventually, the entire world.

——————————————————————————

Part 1!

https://bodilychanges.tumblr.com/post/619216025245941760/m-pad-pt1

Part 2!

https://bodilychanges.tumblr.com/post/619295216802938880/m-pad-pt2

This is my favorite tf that i’ve written so enjoy!

——————————————————————————

The Musky Cam-boy

“Goddamnit!” a girl yelled in frustration, slamming her phone onto her table. “Un-fucking-believable.”

“Alexis, honey, I know you’re mad but you have to stay home,” her mother tried to reason over the phone.

Alexis let out an annoyed sigh, “Yeah mom whatever, i’ll just not go back to uni because of this stupid ass virus. Oh, and also, i’ll just stay home alone for months just so I can fall behind in class. Who even leaves their 19 year old daughter alone for god knows how long!” Alexis took a short pause, realizing what she said. “Sorry mom, it’s just I only came home to see you and dad and now I won’t be able to see you until this is over.”

“It’s alright sweetie, I would be angry too. I knew your father and I shouldn’t have taken a short vacation right before you came home.”

“And I’m guessing Kevin won’t be coming to see me either?” Alexis asked, hoping for her mother to say that he actually was.

“Sorry, your brother’s going to be staying with his girlfriend in California until everything blows over,” her mother answered solemnly.

Alexis sighed again, not because she was annoyed, but because she was genuinely upset. “Yeah whatever i’ll talk to you guys later I need to get groceries. There’s nothing here.”

“Your father will call you later since he’s getting our new hotel room. Be careful and don’t touch anyone that looks sickly okay?” her mother instructed.

“Yeah talk to you later. Tell dad I said ‘Hi’,” she responded right before ending the call.

Alexis was used to staying home, as her parents frequently went on vacations to somehow keep their romance alive. Usually it would be Alexis and her brother, Kevin, together but now it was just her. She wanted to come home to her small normal after college ended but once she arrived she discovered there was a virus infecting the town. Apparently the government was trying to keep it hush from the entire world, and they were doing pretty well in her opinion. Most of the people she knew from college weren’t aware of it, and the others believed it was a hoax.

Freshman year of college had just ended and it was everything she ever wanted. She made friends and passed her all her classes, Alexis was truly on her way to success. Being an upcoming prodigy, she was whip-smart, inventive, and cunning. The only thing that she really ever struggled with was her love life. Alexis was happy with her life, in fact she wouldn’t trade it for the world, but boys never really noticed. To them, she was either too smart or ‘not their type,’ essentially meaning she was ugly. She didn’t desire male attention, but her father and brother being the only men in her life left her somewhat empty.

Alexis grabbed her grocerie bag from her parents car, dressed herself in her jogging clothes, and started her run to the store. The town really only had one supermarket and she was hoping that maybe she would run into some old friends of hers. On the way, she didn’t see any cars on the road, nor the amount people she would normally see running. She had noticed a few jocks tossing a football back and forth though, one even taking a second to cat call her, which for some reason she enjoyed.

As Alexis took her mind off of the hot jocks, she entered the large building that was her local grocerie story, and was immediately hit by a foul stench. Weirdly intrigued, she ventured further into the store to take deeper whiffs. It smelled like the boys High School lockeroom, which she went in as a dare her senior year, for some reason. It was extremely out of place for a supermarket and strangely, Alexis had a bit of trouble forming thoughts in her head, almost like the smell was clouding her mind.

“What the fuck.....” Alexis said, trailing off as soon as she realized the store was almost devoid of people, just a few shirtless guys walking around. As she scanned the area, a pair of sweaty guys caught her eye.

“Could it be?” she whispered to herself, walking closer to the two guys she had noticed. “No way! You guys are the Garcia brothers!”

“Oh yo, what’s up girl,” Julian greeted as he turned around to Alexis.

“See bro, told you we would run into a fan! What’s your name?” Justin asked, taking out a pen for an autograph.

“I’m Alexis and well, it’s not me that’s a fan, it’s my older brother. He’s really likes your workout videos,” she explained awkwardly. She could smell something pungent emanating off of them, a skunk-like odor, it was somewhat disgusting yet she wanted more.

“Uh that’s cool I guess.” Julian’s eyes trailed down to Alexis’s lower body, it had been a while since he had seen a girl and his cock was already getting erect.

“So um, can I take a picture with you guys? My brother will be so jealous that I met you two,” Alexis explained trying to move on since the conversation was getting a bit dry. They seemed stupider than they did in their Youtube videos and it was a bit difficult to talk to them.

“Oh yeah sure, sure,” Justin answered since his brother was obviously occupied staring at her ass. Alexis handed Justin her phone and he placed her hand on her shoulder. Alexis felt her body begin to lose balance the second Justin touched her.

“Yo Jules get ready,” Justin said, nudging his brother to pay attention. “Aight. 1, 2, 3.”

*click*

Justin handed Alexis back her phone and then looked at his brother.

“Oh right uh there you go girl have a nice day,” Julian said, finally breaking his stare from Alexis’s body.

“Thanks!” Alexis added as the two brothers walked away. She smiled and instantly sent the picture to her brother, then proceeded on with her shopping.

All of a sudden, she coughed, and panic was painted all over her face. She hadn’t even touched anyone except for Justin, and he seemed perfectly healthy, other than his scent, which got better after smelling him more. “Maybe it’s just a random cough,” she said aloud, attempting to reassure herself. Though she knew herself better than that, she had to keep shopping.

Day 2

It had been a day since Alexis found out she would be stuck in her childhood home for a while, and she was already bored.

One thing that was definitely strange was that’s Alexis felt taller and stronger. Could it possibly be a side effect to her sickness? Alexis would find herself reaching cabinets she would have to ask her brother before, and moving heavy objects around without even realizing it. Something she did notice was that she had developed a small cough overnight and it was worrying her, but she had other problems to face first.

“How the hell am I gonna get money?” Alexis frustratedly asked herself. She even resorted to asking her friends what she should do, and they all joked around and said cam-girl. Being a cam-girl couldn’t be too bad right? It felt a little wrong to get money by showing her off body, which wasn’t even that good in the first place. Unfortunately with her parents having to pay for their hotel, and Alexis being unable to get a job because of the quarantine, she had to get money for food somehow.

Alexis decided to think about it later since her cough had gotten much worse and more frequent, as well as the fact that she started to sneeze too. Alexis did have vitamins and medicine stored in their house, seeing as her parents were both pharmacists, but the medicine didn’t seem to help at all. She didn’t want to call them and ask what to do since she didn’t want to worry them. After all, it could just be the flu, right?

Day 6

Alexis’s ailment had worsened. Coughing almost constantly, she downed buckets of water and pills in hopes that she would feel better. The only thing that could make her feel better was exercise. It was as if the more she worked out, the more she felt better.

She had started to work out after finding a room she didn’t remember existing before college, one filled with weights, a treadmill, and even lifting machines. Apparently while at college her parents created a gym room for them to stay in shape. Surprisingly, exercise came completely natural to her, almost as if she had been doing it her whole life. Cardio was especially relaxing to her as running felt like an escape from her home-prison.

The house was beginning to smell like the supermarket. Although Alexis wasn’t aware of it, she had actually started to smell just like it too. Of course, it could be that she started to take up exercise, as staying home and doing nothing wasn’t really a physical activity.

The amount of time in the gym definitely paid off though, as her ass and tits were much bigger than before, and even her body was much slimmer. Alexis was more attractive than ever before, attracting the attention of her male followers on Instagram. Her smart girl act quickly dissolved from the attention she was receiving, sending pictures of her new curves to the guys who sexted her. She was just having fun and playing around with some boys, what could go wrong?

Day 12

Alexis had an addiction to exercising now. It was almost impossible to stop as she had to keep the attention of the men she was sexting. The feeling was so unfamiliar to her, she had an insatiable craving for attention that she wasn’t even aware of before. Her friends called her a slut but she didn’t care, who would? She loved being in front of the camera, watching the men she played with jerk their small cocks to her new sexy body. It was getting her money, and lots of it. Who could say no to that?

Truthfully, she didn’t care about the money, she just loved the attention. Their moans and the euphoria on their face as they climaxed to her doing as they instructed. She lived off the recognition being given to her. “Just like that. Good girl,” the men would say when she fondled her tits and rubbed her clit for them. It was her favorite thing in the world. Her life was exercise, show, exercise, eat, shower, show, exercise every single day.

Though she was still sick, Alexis felt amazing. Hoarse coughs had morphed into to light sneezes, and her body felt healthier than ever. She believed the worse was over and this was a new life for her but she didn’t know the big changes were yet to come...

Day 24

“What the fuck!” Alexis jumped out of her seat to yell at the TV. The other team had scored a winning touchdown and she was furious. Taking a sip of the beer she was holding to calm down, Alexis let out a massive, smelly burp, a belch to rival even one of her brother’s. She adjusted the sports cap she was wearing and sat back down.

Drastic changes had occurred to Alexis’s body and mentality, and she was completely oblivious to them. Day by day she had become more masculine, as the effect of her copious hours of exercise finally began to kick in. In her mind however, it had been the way she had acted her entire life. It was the way she grew up without lovers in her life. All she had was her dad and brother for men, and they were her role models. Alexis was just a tomboy, that’s all.

Although Alexis lost a few customers for her shows, her business was still going strong. To her, the ones that left were a bunch of ‘pussies and fags’, every single one of them. They told her that she was, “acting and looking too much like a guy” and that it was a, “big turn off for them.” It was ridiculous and he didn’t need them anyways- Wait, he? No, no he was a girl, she wanted to please men so she had to be a ma-woman.

Something she had noticed getting progessively worse was the smell. It was putrid, and the more she worked out, the more the malodorous scent intensified. Honestly, Alexis didn’t even care about showering anymore. Why waste time and water when you’re going to get sweaty and smelly again? She just had to live with the odor, seeing as her air fresheners ran out days ago and she couldn’t just stop working out, could she?

No.

She had to get sexier.

She had to get bulkier.

She had to get muskier.

She had to get stronger.

He had to get the attention he was begging for.

He was obsessed with the attention he would get from the horny men on his cam-shows. He was just a dumb, smelly brute who’s only purpose in life was to please other men. He adored his jock-like slicked back hair, his meaty, bulging twin biceps, and an enormous 11 inch fuckmeat with two drooping grapefruit-sized balls almost bursting with juice. Not to mention his thick, defined pecs with a pair of perfectly round and perky nipples atop them, a pitiful IQ of 55, and to top it all off, two permanently sweaty, rank armpits overgrown by wet bushes of pit hair. All these things making the hunk Alexis became, or, always was.

Alex’s skin was always sweaty and sticky, even when he wasn’t exercising. His bushy pits always smelt rancid and malodorous, and would be that way for the rest of his life. And his mind was always clouded by his own scent, and his dumb, sex-drived himbo brain struggled to do even basic multiplication.

In fact, to Alex, his home and his body didn’t even smell that bad anymore. The odor wasn’t rotten or disgusting to him, it smelled like pure testosterone and it extremely turned him on. One deep whiff of his pits would cause his cock to instantly swell to it’s full 11 inches, as wel as his testosterone to skyrocket.

Even though Alex was just some musty, cam-boy himbo, he discovered that ‘bathing’ himself in his very own sweat, cum, and musk created the perfect stimulant for muscle growth. His pits reeked and the more he didn’t shower, the more his muscles grew. As a matter of fact, the most popular act on his streams is something called ‘The Pit Lick.’ What is it you might ask? Well it’s where viewers would watch the sexy hunk slobber his wet, drooling tongue over his rancid, musky pits, slurping up his own glorious sweat.

Oh? Alex just started one of his streams.

Why don’t we go check it out?

[oracle-in-the-garden]

Singing a New Tune

Written for Occam's 2000 Follower Writing Challenge

“Babe, I love you.”

Jared smiled down at Julie, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He had to imagine his girlfriend dreamed of this moment. A romantic kiss at a Tiffany Stabina concert as the star finished out her set with one of Julie’s favorite songs. A slow romantic song- one that Jared knew all too well from frequent replays in the car.  

“Anything for you babe.” He replied, holding her closely in his muscular arms, “I love you too.”

This certainly wasn’t his kind of music. And he didn’t understand the cult-like devotion to Tiffany. But seeing Julie this happy? Worth it. Still, he imagined the other straight dudes here were thinking similarly. In fact, he and the guy next to him shared several looks throughout the night. A silent comradery acknowledging they’d rather be elsewhere. And if they had been elsewhere, Jared would’ve asked the guy for his arm day routine.

“Alright babe, we ought to head out before...”

“To all my fans, I love you!” Tiffany called out, their cheers drowning Jared’s words, “You’ve all been with me from the beginning, and I am so grateful.” She placed a hand over her heart, “But you all know I’ve been criticized.” The fans all booed, “And they’ve come after you too.”

“A bit dramatic.” Jared chuckled, earning a glare from Julie.

“You wouldn’t get it.” She replied, “They go after he for everything.” The jock nodded, not wanting to risk ruining their perfect night, “But when she sings, it’s like she’s speaking directly to you. People just don’t get it.” Jared nodded. There were some things just not worth it.

“I wasn’t going to do this, but I have a new song for you all this evening!” The crowd erupted in screams and applause. Jared groaned, “They say I’m pandering? Then I’ll pander.” She continued, and the crowd got louder.

Jared knew there would be no way of getting Julie to leave now. And he silently dreaded the hours they’d be stuck in traffic. But as the song started and Tiffany’s words echoed through the stadium, his thoughts slowed.

“They say I only cater to a few.”

Jared felt lightheaded, the sound of the crowd growing distant.

“The gays and the girls, oh boo hoo.”

“Julie?” He whispered, but she didn’t respond, “Julie, please...” He felt sick. The world was spinning, everything becoming black, “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” He whispered. He couldn’t move. Was he dying? Was this it?

“But I won’t back down, I won’t apologize.” Jared looked up and saw her. Tiffany Stabina. Standing in front of him, “For making them feel alive.” She strutted towards the helpless jock.

“What...? How is this...?”

“I see you dancing in the dark, feeling completely torn apart.” She sang.

Jared yelped as he felt a cool breeze caress him. And to his horror, he realized he was nude. Butt naked in front of Tiffany Stabina no less. She grinned and approached him, circling his nude figure and wrapping her arms around him.

“Embrace your uniqueness, don’t hide.”

Jared gasped as she placed pressure on his shoulders. He felt the floor getting closer as he lost inch after inch of height. He now stood at eye level with the 5’6” popstar.

“Wait? What did you do to me?” He yelped.

“Now let my music take you for a ride.”

She ran a hand along his muscular arms. Her very touch sent a wave of pleasure straight to his dick, and he blushed as all 10 inches stood at attention. Tiffany smirked, but continued rubbing his biceps and triceps. Her sensual touch was intoxicated, and Jared watched helplessly as his proud muscles started to diminish. His biceps atrophied, followed quickly by his triceps. His slender arms giving off the appearance they hadn’t seen a gym in years. He tried to cry out, but Tiffany placed a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. He could only watch as her hands roamed his impressive pecs. He had always been proud of his pecs, and he loved when Julie rested her head on his chest. But now, he could only watch as they flattened away.

“Wait...” He was able to force out. But Tiffany was relentless, and her hands roamed down his abs.

He shed a few tears as his abs vanished, leaving him with a flat, slender tummy. There was no way this could be happening. It had to be some type of acid trip or something. Jared kept trying to reassure himself, even as she moved to his legs and quickly destroyed his muscular thighs and calves, leaving his legs slender and dainty. His feet followed, and quickly diminished from size 13s to 9.5s in mere seconds.

“My music is my contagion, unapologetic. Now we’re gonna collide.” Tiffany continued, this time wrapping her hands around his cock, “My fans are my tribe, I won’t divide.”

Jared felt like the wind was knocked out of him from both the pain and pleasure from her touch. And he watched as she shrunk his proud member. The young jock always knew he was well endowed. And he knew how to use it too. But as he watched his dick shrink from its proud ten inches to a mere 3 inches hard, he felt his confidence diminish.

“We’ll rise together, side by side.”

Her hands made their way to his flat ass. He tried to crane his neck to see what she was about to do. But he didn’t need to see. He could immediately feel his ass expand in her hands, filling them with firm, yet jiggly fat and muscle. He let out a moan as she caressed his basketball-sized ass cheeks, and he nearly came when she gave one a firm slap.

“Pl-please stop...” He begged as she placed a hand over his neck, “You can't do thith...” His voice cracked and he winced, “What’th happening to my voithe? Why do I thound like thith?” He begged, his voice cracking, “No, thith doethn't thound right.” His voice settled a few octaves higher, his masculine tone now lost forever.

“So bring on the hate, let the critics rage. We’ll keep on dancing, it’s time to turn the page.”

As she continued to caress his now slender body, and grind against him, he felt off. His dick  softened, as her physicality became less appealing to him. Her bouncing boobs and thick lips didn’t seem to do it for him. Even her touch was losing its pleasure. And he realized in terror what was occurring.

“No, not thith!” He begged, “Come on, come, think of thomething.” He remembered the BJ Julie gave him last night, and even the lesbian porn he watched a few days ago. But his measly member stayed soft, “No... pleathe...”

He felt Tiffany’s hand on his head. His pleading eyes met hers, and he knew he’d find no mercy. His hair restyled itself, and he felt a piercing pain in his left earlobe, which suddenly adourned a diamond stud. But her touch was doing far more than making a few style alterations. In his mind, his memories were shifting. Showering after football practice? Changing in the locker room after a lifting session with his bros? Watching football with his family?

“Oh god...” He moaned, as his small dick hardened and his ass throbbed with need.

He didn’t play football. He got fucked by the quarterback in the shower after a game. He wasn’t lifting at the gym. He was doing cardio and sucking off the gym bros between their sets. He didn’t watch sports like football. He just sat and scrolled on his phone, reading up on the latest Tiffany Stabina gossip and scrolling his socials. And as his new reality cemented itself, Jared’s eyes lost their intelligent spark and became half-lidded, his brain filling with celebrity gossip and how to please guys.

“This contagion’s here to stay, and we’ll celebrate it every day.”

She kissed him on the cheek. And with that, Jared was back. The cheers of the crowd filling his ears, as Tiffany thanked her fans and left the stage. Jared smiled.

“Oh my god! That wath tho amathing!” He cheered, “Tiffany! I love you!” He yelled, “It wath like Tiffany thpoke to me.”

“You felt that way too?” Jared turned and came face to face with a man of similar build. Albeit with slightly bigger arms, “Tiffany, like, totally thpeakth for uth.” He grinned as Jared felt up his arms.

“Wait!” A voice called out behind him, “Did you see the guy I came here with?” Julie asked, looking around desperately, “I swear, he was right here. I...”

“Thorry thithter, I hope you find him!” Jared replied, turning his attention back to the guy.

“Tho weird, thome poor girl athked me about her boyfriend too.” The man replied, “Probably got drunk and left to watch football.”

“OMG tho lame.” Jared laughed. The two smiled at one another, “Tho, like...”

“Wanna go back to my place? I have her latetht album.” The man winked, and Jared shuddered as his ass throbbed with need.

“That thounds delightful.” Jared replied, pulling the man in closer, his smile widening as the man squeezed his ass, “Oh! But like firtht I totally need a thelfie! I want everyone to know I thupport Tiffany and Tiffany thupports me!” He cheered, capturing their kiss on camera and posting it to his socials.

Later that night, Jared and his lover explored one another’s new bodies. Jared gasping at the size of his lover’s cock, moaning as he felt a firm hand squeeze his ass. His moans would continue to fill the room that night. With each thrust of his new lover’s dick, Jared was in heaven. Unaware of his former life or the horror it would bring his former self to see him like this. Just another horny slut- another gay twink dedicated to Tiffany Stabina.

[oracle-in-the-garden]

Dude I saw that post about the dude becoming the football jock but like, upside down, and I gotta say I loved it. Has that ever happened before? Can it happen again? Love the idea of my hands becoming feet, feet becoming hands as a whole new person takes over my upside down self

You groaned as you slowly sat up in your bed, the morning light illuminating your room. With a sigh, you force yourself out of bed, grimacing at the pounding headache behind your eyes. Did you really drink that much last night? Were you really that hungover? You look down at your phone, the brightness bothering you somewhat as you notice several texts from your friends. Apparently something big was happening on the news. You figure it’s probably just another once in a lifetime event. You slowly stand up. You’d look into it in a moment, but only after you took some Tylenol or something.

“What the hell?”

You mumble, becoming acutely aware of your morning wood. It’s not uncommon, but fuck you were hard. And as you rub touch your dick through your shorts, your whole body shakes. The sensation is way too powerful, as if you hadn’t jerked off in weeks. And as that thought enters your brain, you suddenly realize just how horny you are. Your mind flashing with images of hot guys doing all kinds of things to you. You slowly pull down your pants, and fall back onto your bed. Your hand caressing your incredibly sensitive member. Each small touch sending a lightning wave of pleasure through your body. But as your eyes roll back into your head and you moan, you hear a sickening set of cracks fill the room. And you realize that something feels off. The hands around your dick don’t feel as soft. In fact, your hands don’t really feel like hands. Your eyes shoot open and you raise your hands to inspect them. Only they’re not hands. Your fingers have morphed into toes, your palms the bottom of two very large, masculine feet.

“What the fuck?”

You grimace at the smell that wafts from your two new feet. A muskiness that shares a similar odor to a gym locker room. And as your mind tries to comprehend what its seeing, you feel your arms violently contract. The pain and discomfort causes tears to well in your eyes and you watched through blurred vision as your forearms become shins. The muscles evolving into a set of powerful calves. You want to cry out, but the pain is quickly eclipsed by a pleasure that shatters your thoughts. Your dick seems even harder, pulsating and throbbing desperately for release. For freedom. The smell of your new feet sends you further into bliss and your mind tells you this is right.

“Fuck brah...”

The voice is just a whisper, but it carries with it a masculine edge that drives your libido even higher. It’s the voice of a total jock. The kind of guys you would only ever dream of sucking off. And in the haze of your splintering thoughts, part of you realizes something is wrong. Very wrong. You’re surrounded on either side by a pair of meaty thighs. Ones that squeeze your head, making it somewhat difficult to look around. But it’s not just that. From what you can see, your chest doesn’t look very much like a chest. Instead of two pecs, you see what looks more like a six pack, adorned on either side by a prominent V-line. All leading down to... all leading to you...

“Wh...”

Your voice becomes gargled as a salt liquid falls from your mouth, which is becoming increasingly more difficult to move. In fact, it seems like it’s being forced into a more oval shape. But you quickly become more concerned as you feel yourself lifted out of bed. Your face now pointing to the ground.

“Fuck this feels good.”

That masculine voices fills the room again. But it sounds louder. More prominent. Dripping with an arrogant confidence. You find it so sexy... so right. The voice of a real man... better than what you’d ever been. But in the midst of these blissful thoughts, there’s a resistance that surges. What are you thinking? You couldn’t... Any resistance fades though when you feel a firm, calloused hand wrap around your head.

“You’re gonna make me feel so fuckin’ good.”

The voice says. And before you can even think or muster up any kind of resistance, you feel the hand move up and down your new body. The feeling is beyond anything you’d ever experienced. As your body throbbed and stretched, the pleasure only amplified. The bag of your throat filling up with that salty taste from earlier. Your vision was starting to alter now- it was becoming harder to see. Even smell and hearing were starting to go. Yet, in these final moments, you could catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and the hand that was teasing you so much. All attached to the body of an adonis. The type of guy you’d gawk at in the gym. The cocky jock you’d jerk off to time and time again. Now he was jerking you off. Or well, himself. Because as your vision faded and you took one last glimpse of yourself, you knew what you were now.

“Just my fuck stick.” The jock breathed out, holding back a moan, “That’s all you’ll ever be from now on.”

He came just a moment later, coating the mirror with his seed. He fell back on his chair, breathing heavily. His one hand teasing his new, firm pecs while the others greedily pumped you. He smirked down at you, totally spent but clearly happy with his newfound independence. He looked down at your phone, noticing the messages your former friends sent. Just selfies of their new muscular bodies- their cocks limp and spent.

“Look at that lil dude.” He chuckled, “Don’t you worry,” He gave you a few strokes, your body instantly growing hard again, “We’re gonna have plenty of fun today.”

[oracle-in-the-garden]

Experiential Learning

“Dude, I don’t get it.”

“What’s not to get?” Mike grinned.

The two men paused their jog, taking a few deep breaths and basking in the warmth of the summer air. Jason wiped some sweat from his forehead and looked towards his friend.

“I guess I can understand it, well in theory.” Jason continues, running a hand through his blond hair, “But you’re telling me you’ll fuck around for hours and still not blow? Like, what’s the point?”

“That is the point, bro.” Mike stretches his muscular arms, “When you're right on the edge, so close to release... it's like nothing else. Fuck... and when you do finally let go.” His grin widens, “Fucking mind-blowing, best orgasm you’ll ever have.”

“Yeah but dude, isn't it just torture? Having to hold back all that time?” Jason shakes his head, “I'd rather just bust a nut and be done with it. Fuck, how do you get anything done? I feel like I’d be so fucking horny all day.”

Mike chuckles and slaps Jason on the back, “Oh man, it’s about the journey, not the destination. And that journey could last for hours, even days if you get as good as me.”

Jason raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Hours? Days? Dude, I don't know if my balls could take that much punishment. Sounds like a case of self-inflicted blue balls.”

“Ah you’re boring, man.” Mike shrugs, “But if you ever want a lesson.” He winks playfully.

“Gross dude.” Jason chuckles, “You do you, man. Just glad I’m not your cock.”

“You wish you were.” Mike laughs, “C’mon, lets finish this run.”

----------------

It’s the next morning when Jason is awakened by the sound of an unfamiliar alarm.

“Ugh fuck.” He thinks. His body feels stiff- more so than what he would’ve expected from the intensity of his workout yesterday, “I didn’t go that hard.” He thinks, his thoughts shifting to the blaring alarm, “Okay, okay... I can’t see anything...” It was so dark, and he was covered in warm fabric, “Those black out curtains are good...” He tries to reach out towards the sound of the alarm, “My arms... I can’t move my arms...” It’s a strange sensation, as if he doesn’t have arms to move.

As the realization slowly dawns on Jason, panic begins to set in. He tries to sit up, to move his legs, but feels only a strange, throbbing heat emanating from below. Each movement he makes just causes his body to twitch. He tries again and again to move, but nothing responds to his mental commands. Even his desperate attempts to call out for help are useless. No words are able to leave his mouth, which feels forced open in an circular shape. The only thing Jason can feel is his form rubbing against something soft with each weak twitch of his stiff body.

“Ugh fuck...” Jason perks up at the sound of Mike voices, “God damnit... this fuckin’ alarm.”

The alarm is silenced and Mike throws the sheets off of him. The light shines through the room, illuminating it and giving Jason a better view. Jason can barely process his new perspective. He finds himself looking directly up at Mike's toned abdominal muscles, the individual abs clearly defined. His gaze traces up further, taking in the expansive, sculpted pectoral muscles above. To either side of Jason, towering and filling his entire field of vision, are Mike's colossal thighs. He can feel the warmth radiating from them.

“C’mon dude! Don’t you see me?” Jason thinks, an increasing sense of panic welling up from inside him.

Mike yawns and looks down, a slow grin forming across his face. Jason can feel Mike’s eyes on him and he wants to ask why the hell his buddy is smiling at him. More importantly, he wanted to ask why the fuck he was apparently in his bed, wedged between his bro’s thighs. But he couldn’t- for whatever reason he could form the words.

“Well hello there, handsome.” Mike chuckles to himself, “Looks like someone's ready to start the day.” Mike reaches down at wraps his meaty hand around his throbbing cock.

A jolt of intense pleasure shoots through Jason's entire being as he feels Mike's strong hand wrap around his body. The sensation is overwhelming - every nerve ending seems to come alive at once. He can feel the texture of Mike's skin, the slight calluses on his palm, the firm yet gentle grip. As Mike begins to stroke, slowly at first then picking up speed, waves of ecstasy pulse through Jason's new body. He twitches and throbs in Mike's grasp, growing even harder.

“Oh god oh fuck what the hell is happening?! I.... ohhhh.... please stop..... I'm not a dick.... I'm not a damn cock! I’m a man!”

Jason's mind reels as the sensations intensify. Mike's grip tightens, stroking faster now. Jason's thoughts grow increasingly slurred and fragmented.

“Nnngh f-fuck... s'too much...” Jason's brain fogs over with each pump of Mike's fist. The pleasure is all-consuming, wiping away coherent thought, “Can't... can't think straight...”As Mike's strokes become more urgent, Jason's resolve crumbles. The boundaries of his identity blur and fade, “I'm... I'm not... hnnngh! 

Jason's protests dissolve. In his hazy, lust-addled state, the idea of being separate from Mike's cock starts to seem absurd. After all, everything that made him Jason was gone. His firm pecs, muscular arms, toned legs- gone, his body just a veiny, thick shaft. His handsome features, killer smile- gone, just a pink cock head. Jason's mind goes completely blank as the pleasure peaks. All rational thought vanishes, replaced only by pure, primal need.

“Yes... I am a cock... Mike's cock...” Jason thinks, his remaining shreds of identity merging fully with his new role, “This is all I am, all I've ever been...” His purpose becomes clear, “Need... to... cum...”

But the hand stops. And as it does, Mike throws back his head and moans, basking in the pleasure and pain of denied release. All the while, Jason is suddenly jolted back to reality, his thoughts becoming clear, as a sense of clarity washes over him.

“Fuck...” He thinks as he regains focus, “I nearly...”

A sense of dread washes over him. He was so close. So close to losing himself. If Mike hadn’t stopped... if he kept going...

“...and when you do finally let go... Fucking mind-blowing...”

Mike’s words repeat in Jason’s consciousness. And Jason realizes that there is certainly a truth to his bro’s statement. If... when Mike finally released... Jason tries to push the thought out of his head. He had time- maybe he could find a way to communicate or reverse this. But before he can think more on it, Jason feels his perspective change again as Mike gets out of bed.

“Gotta hit the gym first.” Mike mumbles, grinning down at his slowly softening dick, “It’s been a few days, hasn’t it? Workout first, then...”

And Jason begins to realize he might not have as much time left as he thought. Mike grabs a pair of compression shorts and plunges Jason back into darkness, the feeling of the soft fabric teasing him even more. His thoughts growing foggy once again as each of Mike’s movements send a wave of pleasure and pain down the length of his sensitive, semi-hard body. The aching need nearly unbearable. Despite his earlier determination to escape this predicament, a small part of Jason finds himself craving the release he was denied. To fully experience Mike's take on edging.

"Maybe..." he muses dreamily, "maybe letting go won't be so bad....might be nice to finally...cum..."

[oracle-in-the-garden]

You're my Chubby Boyfriend

You’ve gotten so oblivious since we started dating.

                You’ve been happy. That’s obvious. You can see it on your face, how content you are, how comfortable you’ve gotten. How docile. I’ve been treating you well. And you’ve let me. You’ve allowed me to spoil you, to pamper you. And all that relationship satisfaction has certainly taken a toll. On your mood, on your mental health. Everything has improved.

                Everything, that is, but your weight.

                You’ve sort of ballooned, fat boy. You’ve thickened quite a bit during our time together. You’ve been letting me feed you, as you sit on that widening, pampered ass of yours. Letting me stuff you silly at dinner. Letting me bring you endless snacks, coaxing goodies and treats down your greedy throat, convincing those plump, submissive lips of yours to part for my desserts. You’ve been letting me fill you; not just filling your heart or your mind or your time. But I’ve been filling up your body as well.

                You’ve changed somewhat, fatty. You’ve let all the weight accumulate all over yourself, transforming from that handsome, fit jock I smiled at as I watched him pack away dinner, my own leftovers, and dessert as well. As I sat back, like a fox watching a plump porker fatten himself, knowing your potential, knowing what I could do to you if I put my mind to it.

                And it’s unmistakable now. You’re not a fit, single jock anymore. You’re my dumb, handsome chubber of a boyfriend. A plump boytoy whose mind is filled with the thought of donuts and cupcakes and cookies and pies. All being brought to him on a plate by his loving, doting significant other. By me.

That relationship weight has accumulated all over. Your stomach, which was once muscular, is now covered in layers of lard, its dough spilling out onto your lap. Your legs covered in fat, fighting to take up space in your chair as you squeeze your enormous ass back so you can play your video games. You’ve gotten uncomfortable, in this new, chubby body of yours. But I do my best to minimize the discomfort, to make sure you don’t have to struggle into those terrible shorts with the button anymore. No, those all burst a while ago. Now, I’ve spoiled you and bought you several pairs of stretchy athletic shorts that leave little room for growth. Packing away your work shirts and button ups and replacing them with stretchy, breathable t-shirts. Shirts that crease under your juicy moobs, that rest above your belly button, exposing your chub. You don’t even notice as I hold a plate of brownies in front of you. As you stuff your face, stupidly, watching your mind-numbing shows and scrolling on your phone. Your double chin highlighting the cuteness of your face, outlining the plumpness where your handsome jawline used to be.

I love showing you off to the world, taking pictures and posting them on social media. “Look how cute my man is, everyone!” I write. While in my mind I think about how much of a pig you are. How you jiggle now, when you step. How your ass cheeks have to shift because your butt has ballooned so big. How your undies ride up between them and you have to tug when you don’t think I’m looking. How we go for walks and you’re always at least a couple steps behind, struggling to keep up with my long, fit legs. I give you lots of belly pats though, bountiful attention, and of course, endless offerings of food! And you  love it…of course you do! Because you’re a fat boy at heart and now, thanks to all my cooking and spoiling and pampering, you’re a fat boy all over. Now, all that chub is mine! That belly is mine to rub! That ass is mine to grab! Those love handles are mine to squeeze! Maybe you’ll go mad from all my poking and prodding, from my teasing. Maybe you’ll lose your mind from all my delicious cooking, the toll it’s taking. But you certainly wont do anything about it. It’s simply too addicting; my cooking, the way it makes you grow…the way I make you feel…

There’s just no hope for you anymore, now, fat boy. So open wide.

[oracle-in-the-garden]

A Hero's Buttery Addiction

Just a little short thing this time, featuring a certain Hylian hero discovering the joys of cooking with butter! Inspired by @plumpybread whose art helps me visualize how to write larger sizes WAY better than I used to. I know he's like, a legend in the community already but if you haven't seen his work somehow, please check it out! His art is so good!

A cool breeze blew through the air in Rito Village, blowing south from the Hebra Mountains. Link suppressed a shiver, feeling the brisk chill around the bottom of his tunic. He adjusted the feather-lined garment quickly, pulling it down to cover his abdomen, but it immediately started riding up on him as soon as he continued walking. The Hylian grumbled to himself, opting to try and ignore it while he stocked up on supplies at the general store. Link walked into the cozy open-air hut, nodding at the Rito shopkeeper with a warm smile as he piled all of the goat butter the shop had in stock into his satchel. He handed a pouch of rupees to the Rito as payment before walking out of the store to head back out adventuring Hyrule. 

Link didn’t want to admit it to himself, but the Hylian has packed on some pounds in recent months. Once he had discovered the joys of cooking with goat butter, he never looked back, and the delicious, creamy, fattening substance had clearly affected his waistline. The sliver of pale, soft chub that peeked out from his warm Rito Tunic gave him a slight muffin top, and his thighs ever so slightly brushed together when he walked. Link seemed ignorant to these changes to his body, though; mentally, he attributed his tighter clothing to an ill-advised attempt at making a fan powered raft that fell apart, plunging him into icy cold water while fully clothed. To him, the cold water must have shrunk his clothing somehow! It couldn’t have anything to do with his new culinary obsession, surely! 

The pudgy Hylian sat at a cooking pot, sorting through his available ingredients. Link pulled out a slab of prime meat, a large hearty bass, some Hylian mushrooms, and a stick of goat butter. He paused, thinking for a moment. If just one stick of goat butter improved the flavor of a dish so much… Why not use two? Reaching into his bag, Link grabbed another stick of butter, and tossed it into the pot with the rest of the food, watching it melt and coat the meat and mushrooms, sizzling delightfully. As soon as his meal was done, Link immediately took an eager bite, too hungry to wait any longer. The flavors exploded in his mouth, coating his tongue in a rich, oily sensation. This was amazing! He scarfed down the rest of the pile of meat, seafood, and mushrooms, patting his pudgy stomach in satisfaction. Link knew one thing for sure now: he was going to have to keep trying butter in more recipes if it made them taste this good!

 

Months passed, and Link’s reputation for cooking rich, decadent meals for himself grew. Shops all over Hyrule knew to stock up on extra goat butter, as the eager Hylian hero would travel to each and every settlement just to get his fix. As his desire for egregious amounts of butter grew, so did his waistline. Link had absolutely blown up since discovering that adding more butter to his cooking made it taste even better. The Hylian man was undeniably morbidly obese, and many of the citizens of Hyrule were a little bit worried about how rapidly he had descended into obesity, but none of them felt brave enough to try and broach the subject with the rapidly-fattening hero. 

Link has taken to using his Purah Pad to teleport him directly to each town to minimize the amount of walking he had to do. For some reason he had been getting very tired even from brief walks lately, and his horse had been similarly exhausted just from short rides. Link materialized outside the shrine at Hateno Village, taking time to gather himself before the arduous walk downhill towards the general store. He somehow still didn’t realize the cause of his growing problems was the hundreds of pounds he’d packed onto his body in mere months. Link’s body was bloated with lard, to the point that he was nearing half a ton of fat on his once-lithe frame. His face was framed by a set of cherubic chipmunk cheeks, already flushed and sweaty just from a few slow, wobbling steps away from the shrine. His neck was buried under a ring of flab, graduating him from a double chin to a pronounced triple chin. His once-toned arms were replaced with bloated sacks of blubber the size of pillows, sagging down his sides and forcing his arms out at an angle even when not in use. His elbows were long buried under all of this lard, and even his wrists and hands were beginning to plump up at the joints, making bending his fingers and grabbing food a chore. His pecs had ballooned into flabby breasts that were just starting to droop down either side of his gut. The tunic he currently wore, his blue Champions Tunic that he was given over one hundred years ago, was stretched tightly across his chest, functioning more as a bra than a more decent article of clothing and riddled with rips and tears from stretching across so much flab. His former muffin top had graduated into a stack of fluffy love handles, pooling over the straight waistband of his trousers and , when combined with his flabby chest, were half of the reason his arms stuck out at such an angle now. His bloated thighs touched at every point no matter how far apart his spread his legs to walk, forcing him into a pronounced waddle. He couldn’t even bend his knees anymore; the flab from his thighs had long since enveloped the joints, joining his meaty calves in the downfall of his once-proud stride.  

His biggest asset, however, was his gut. The slab of lard was a monument to his gluttony, forming an apron of flab that sagged down to his buried knees. Every slow, measured step he took, his stomach slapped against his meaty thighs, sending his entire flabby body jiggling and wobbling endlessly. The obese hero was sweaty and exhausted after just a few steps, panting and wheezing from the exertion of shifting just under half a ton of fat with every shuffling step, but his craving for butter-soaked food kept him from giving up on his journey to the store.  

When the sweaty, huffing pile of lard finally made it, he shoved the door open with his titanic gut, dreading what came next. Link knew intimately well that doors and him didn’t mix these days, even if he refused to accept or acknowledge why. The Hylian was an absolute wall of flab and rolls, trying to force himself through a tiny doorway. The shopkeeper could only stare in horror and fascination as the legendary hero attempted to squeeze his enormous bulk into the store, wheezing from the exertion. He grabbed the doorframe with his pudgy fingers, trying to force his double-wide hips through, but his rolls and folds were firmly wedged. Link continued panting and groaning, his bulky body oozing around either side of the door frame, when an ominous cracking noise started to occur. Suddenly, with a loud snap, the wood of the doorway and the surrounding walls splintered, and Link stumbled through into the shop, his entire body wobbling from the sudden forward momentum. Barreling forward at speeds his obese form weren’t meant to handle, the lard-laden Hylian hero overbalanced, landing on his cascading gut with so much force that it shook the entire building. Merchandise clattered to the floor from the display shelves as shockwaves rippled through his body like an ocean, and he lay on the floor gasping for air after all of his weight knocked it out of his poor, overtaxed lungs. The shopkeeper looked at the damaged doorway in horror, knowing that no matter how much butter the legendary hero was here to purchase, it wouldn’t pay for the repair costs, especially with his increased visits. Something had to be done about the gluttonous hero, but what? 

After the disastrous incident at the Hateno General Store, shopkeepers around Hyrule had begun taking Link’s purchases to him as he waited outside their shops, to minimize damage done to their buildings. It was a solution, for sure, but many worried about what would happen when Link grew too large to make the short walks to their stores from the teleport points at the towns’ shrines. Many ideas were proposed: shop stalls set up right at the shrines just for Link, some sort of horse and cart system to carry the growing hero to his destinations, even a conveyor belt to carry him to the store entrances was suggested! However, Link ended up solving the problem himself while cooking one day. He’d begun using his Ultra Hand powers to help him grab ingredients once his arms became basically useless at grabbing things around his enormous bulk. As he sat on a log that his fat ass almost completely devoured, using his prosthetic’s powers to move a fourth stick of butter into the cooking pot for the large hunk of gourmet meat he was sauteeing, Link got an idea. He used his fat sausage fingers to switch the function of his hand to the Copy ability, which usually only worked for building materials. He noticed that the sticks of butter were able to be copied, somehow. Confused, Link decided to try it out, multiplying one stick of goat butter into ten, and moving the pile onto his chest where he could inspect them better. The sticks of butter had a gentle greenish-blue glow to them, but otherwise appeared to be normal sticks of butter.  

Link devoured the butter-soaked gourmet meat as he contemplated the glowing butter sticks nestled between his ample breasts when suddenly he was struck by an idea. Straining against the rolls of his arm fat, he craned his overburdened arm towards his chest, grabbing a stick of greenish butter in his fattened hands. Link brought the strange butter towards his pudgy lips slowly, his bountiful lard making it hard for him to reach his mouth with his pillowy arms. He finally shoved the stick of butter into his mouth, the oily fats coating his tongue. His blue eyes lit up as he swallowed: it was incredible! The duplicated butter tasted even richer and more delicious than normal goat butter, and that was without cooking it! Link shoved his hands under his bloated pecs, shifting their mass upwards and forcing the nine remaining sticks of magical butter directly in range of his greedy maw. The greedy Hylian began slurping down the stack of entire sticks of butter while using his Ultra Hand to create more copies, piling them up on his chest within easy eating distance. Link had no idea of the future he had just very quickly resigned himself to with this discovery, but the shopkeepers of Hyrule wouldn’t have to worry about their entryways being broken anymore. 

The citizens of Hyrule whispered about what had become of their legendary hero. Shopkeepers quickly noticed his increasingly-frequent trips to their stores had stopped abruptly, leaving them with mixed feelings of concern for what could have happened to Link, but also relieved that they wouldn’t have to keep paying for hefty repair bills anymore. Only those who were closest to Link knew where he’d ended up, and why he’d disappeared altogether. When asked by any concerned Hylians, they would simply assure them that Link was fine, comfortable, and happily retired from adventuring. 

Sidon, the newly-crowned king of Zora’s Domain, walked swiftly through the thick underbrush of a secluded forest region tucked away from any towns or roaming travelers. The red scaled Zora knew the way to go intimately, having made the journey many times over the year or so he’d been coming here in secret. Plus, it wasn’t too hard to find what he was looking for—All he had to do was follow the sounds of loud gurgling and slurping. Sidon crested the top of a hill, looking down into what had once been a lush, forested valley. The trees had long since been buried, the valley completely filled by a churning, wobbling mass of pale flab. He knew the mountainous blob below him was his most cherished partner, Link, the hero of Hyrule. 

Sidon hopped down from the forested hill, sliding on his finned feet until he landed on the soft form below. It was harder than ever to tell exactly what part of Link’s swollen body he was standing upon, but Sidon was pretty sure it was his stomach. His gigantic gut was constantly stuffed with the replicated butter that Link was somehow constantly creating more of, causing the cascading waterfall of flab to grow more and more every moment as his body worked overtime to convert the literal gallons of butter he consumed into adipose. Sidon could feel the mountainesque stomach below his feet groaning and churning, causing the blobby body of his boyfriend to always be in some sort of state of movement even after long ago losing his mobility.  

The Zora king began the long hike towards the center of Link’s growing mass, clinging desperately to whatever rolls and folds he could grab whenever a particularly strong tremor shifted the oceanic mass like tides crashing upon a shore. Sidon crested the top of Link’s stomach rolls after twenty minutes of climbing, trying to identify more parts of the blob’s body to use as landmarks. He could pretty easily find Link’s breasts due to his nipples, though they were a lot lower down than Sidon was now. Link’s tits were so huge that they’d lost all shape and form, sagging under their weight to the point that they drooped towards the lowest rolls of his gut. He could also guess where Link’s arms were from the location of his chest, gazing at the swollen pancake stacks of rolls directly above the meaty breasts. Sidon figured that Link’s hands must be buried under literal feet of flab at this point, looking at the divots where they’d long ago vanished. Even if he could unearth his fands from all of that lard, there was no way he’d be able to use them for anything aside from his Ultra Hand’s powers; his digits must be so coated in fat that they’d be barely recognizable as hands anymore.  

Once he’d figured out where Link’s useless arms were, finding his head was easy. Sidon looked at the recessed dip in the blobby mountain between the boulder-sized fat deposits that used to be Link’s biceps and forearms towards where a constant flow of glowing green liquid was manifesting and pouring downward into. Sidon swiftly scrambled over Link’s bloated cleavage, taking care not to slip; he’d once made that mistake and it took him hours to wrench his leg free from the cavernous crevasse. Once he’d crested the twin hills of lard, it was easy going from there, as Link’s chins had multiplied into a nice staircase of neck rolls. As he descended down, Sidon entered what could only be described as a cavern of fat formed by the encroaching mass of Link’s flabby jowls and collapsing back rolls. He followed the green glow of magically-duplicated butter deeper into the humid cave, the sounds of hungry slurping and desperate moans growing louder and louder. Finally, Sidon reached the end of the vast fat cave and approached his boyfriend’s bloated face eagerly.  

Link’s face was no longer recognizable, so covered in flab that no distinguishable features remained. Fat has long ago collapsed over his forehead, covering his eyes completely. His pointed ears were buried between rolls of cheek and back fat, as was his golden hair. All that remained was his mouth, though even that wasn’t enough to recognize him by. His lips had plumpened considerably, and were pinched between his engorged jowls into a permanent pout as he sucked down hundreds of gallons of melted magical butter. Sidon didn’t mind though, he loved Link no matter how fat he got. The Zora hero plopped himself down on one of Link’s cheeks, kissing his partner’s flabby face before settling down to watch him eat for a while. One thing was for sure, Link sure made a comfortable bed no matter where you laid on him now.