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possessionsyeahman · 4 hours

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Spanish Shortcuts

Heyo, Here’s a Latino cultural/racial change, also my first foray into a possession transformation! Lessons to be learned about clicking dodgy links and letting spirits walk all over you!

¡Espero que lo disfrutes Atajos en Espanol! -Occam

The foreign language requirements of any American high school are guaranteed to be lackluster. It is no wonder that a nation so fixed on instilling American and English supremacy was so wont to neglect the study of foreign languages and culture. For his part Claude had just about forgotten all the Spanish that he learned not too many years ago. At the present moment he is browsing the web looking for some way to reclaim and improve on his meager knowledge. Despite his desire however, he is shockingly unwilling to do much at all to pursue this end.

Rather than the tried and true method of studying each day Claude is instead looking for not only the easy way, but an instantaneous way to regain his lost knowledge. This is obviously a beyond foolish endeavor, though having long heard tales of people waking up speaking in languages they hadn’t learned he was deep in rabbit holes online scouring for a ticket to bilingualism. Unwilling to admit that they were just old wives’ tales or shitposts he clicks link after link sure the next one will lead to some fruition.

Deep in websites he certainly should not be visiting without a firewall he actually stumbles on a thread in Spanish. Hastily translating the page through Google it promises the fluency of a native speaker through a single click. Claude scratches his cheek wondering whether or not to go through with it, could be malware, probably just a link to a meme or the like. He looks at the link in blue text, it’s just a name: Carlos Herrero. With little further ado Claude decides fuck it what’s the worst that could happen and clicks the name in blue.

The lights in his room flicker as his hand holding his mouse is promptly shocked. He pushes away from his desk shaking his hand in pain as suddenly there is a chill in the air. He shivers as he hears a voice, deep and unknown, whispering in his ear. “Hola hola hola mi perrito.” Claude shakes his head feeling the tickle of a beard on his cheek and swats at the air. “Ay! Lo siento, ah- ¿cuál es su nombre? Claude ¿Verdad? ¿Me entiendes?” (Ah! Sorry, uh- What is your name? Claude, is it? Can you understand me?)

Claude looks around his room in shock at this mysterious voice, immediately assuming he’s lost his mind. He shakes his head trying to wake up or come to his senses, after a few shakes he feels a cold powerful hand grasp his jaw. He hears the voice continue to speak in words he couldn’t understand and did his best not to process lest it worsen the state of his mind. His eyes widen in shock as he stares into the space, feeling the skin on his face contort in response to a hand that is not there. He feels the grip tighten and his breathing accelerates as he starts to hyperventilate.

As if in response to his fear the hand disappears from his face and he feels a heavy arm around his shoulder. “¿No querías saber español?” (Do you not want to know Spanish?) Claude’s ears pick up as he hears Spanish he can just about recall. In doing so his brain immediately reprocessed the preceding events in order to maintain any semblance of sanity. The link must have worked! This is just a dream or something that will end with him knowing Spanish, just like a video game. He just needs to play along until he wakes up. Neglecting how real everything clearly is he addresses the voice, willing himself to believe whatever it is that it’s not malevolent. “Okay, uh I’m down for whatever, thanks for your help, uh, ghost?”

“De Nada, Claudio.” With this Claude’s visions flicker as the chill in the air fills him. He gasps and sees his breath condensate as every inch of his body is ice cold. Claude falls out of his chair and scratches at himself, instinctively trying to claw something out of his body. He rolls onto his hands and convulses, retching as if trying to throw something up. As the seconds pass he feels his body rapidly warm from the bitter freeze, unsure if this is a mirage of heat like the comfort one feels in the throes of hypothermia he paws at his chest.

Before finding confirmation in any way Claude hears the alluring whispers once more, though this time not tickling his ear. Rather it is now a voice within his own head. “Testing testing, ah would you look at that. Now I’m speaking a language you can understand huh? Hahah!” Claude’s brow furrows as he wipes spit from his mouth. This was not the easy nap and wake up anew process that he was promised. As if it had access to his thoughts the voice responds to this. “Ah sorry if I misled you little guy, this is going to be a bit of work. Trust though! It will certainly be easier and quicker than wasting your time studying!” Claude rolls his eyes before remembering since this is probably a dream that at the very least in reality this will be over briefly.

Claude then tilts his head and asks out loud to the voice in his head, “Why are you speaking in English now?” It sounds just like the one he heard earlier, if not a little more playful as it responds, “Ahh language processors, something or other- Don’t worry your little head about it, in time we both will be thinking in Espanol ya? In the meantime why not jumpstart it!” Claude purses his lips trying to find the inscrutable voice’s intentions as he does so the heat in his body begins to convert to energy.

He suddenly feels as if he’s had enough caffeine to power a body three times his size. He feels every muscle in his body demand attention and exercise as his hands start to shake. “Oh would you look at that! If it’s any help any time I used to get excited or stressed I’d always hit the gym, ya dig?” Already motioning to get changed for the gym to blow off some of this energy Claude pauses to once more try and understand the implications of the voice’s statement. “Sorry, what do you mean you used to?”

There is then a jarring silence in his mind. Claude stands, gym clothes in hand, without a thought in his mind before the voice replies trying its best to disarm him despite its deep gruff tone, “Ah well, you know how these things go, it’s just dream logic right? This is all lucid dream, the quicker you stop questioning the sooner you’ll be a pro.” He feels a vein of chill air dash through his mind once more and he nods in agreement. His eyes lose their sharpness as he decides to just listen, throwing on some clothes and heading out.

Heeding the voice he endeavors not to question his circumstances. He gets in his car and does not wonder why, if he is truly dreaming, that he did not just poof over. Feeling his heart start to beat quickly in his chest, in response to anxiety in his chest or to the energy only continuing to course through his veins he is not sure. He looks in his rearview mirror to calm himself and sees the same reflection he always has. Claude smiles at himself seeing at least his appearance is static in this dreadful dream and heads in to get this over with, the voice in his cheering him on as he makes his way in. Increasing in fervor and volume with each step towards the door.

Once inside he Claude is shocked as the voice suddenly drops out of his head leaving him once more with the harsh silence of but his own thoughts. After having such a loud visitor in his mind he is almost uncomfortable with the feeling. Stepping up to the counter to check in he greets the receptionist, “Heyo! It’s Claudio hermano!” The receptionist tilts his head as for a second it’s almost like two voices came from the man in front of him. Claude looks down at himself and clears his throat before trying again, “Lo, Urgh, Sorry about that, Um It’s Claude Smith.”

The receptionist checks him in and Claude goes off to stretch. He doesn’t usually spend much time at the gym, just enough to stay thin. But something inside him tells him that today will be different. Something inside him. His head twitches to the side as the idea washes across his mind. Looking around the room to ensure he’s alone he tries talking to the voice, doing so he does not notice that his pitch has lowered, “Hey uh, I know you told me not to ask questions. But did you make me call myself Claudio earlier?” Having paused his stretches he feels a burning in his arms and legs demanding they keep moving. Obeying the pain, his lips quiver as if he’s about to speak and the voice responds, “Ay ¿Crees? (You think so?)Es just a slip of the tongue ya?”

Claude continues stretching carefully, taking deep breaths to assuage the anxiety building in his chest. He is facing away from the wall of mirrors, unintentionally or through some subtle manipulation. Otherwise he may notice as his hair slowly begins to darken to a deep shade of brown. The blonde locks he has always been proud of maintain their length as they darken unnaturally. The thought pops into his head that he would look good with brown hair si? He shakes it away as soon as it appears though, biting his lip to avoid voicing his concern at how much power this “voice” has over him.

Trying to center himself he closes his eyes as he continues to stretch. The companion in his mind is thankfully quiet as he pushes away the discomfort at the silence and instead appreciates the freedom. Little does he know the presence is simply acting on him in other avenues as he stretches. Claude smiles as he feels the burning relief of his stretches, grunting quietly enough that he notices not how his voice has continued to deepen, inching closer to the voice that is not his own.

The pleasant burn of his legs as he stretches them becomes almost intoxicating as he leans against the mirrored wall. Were his eyes open he would see his calves begin to grow beyond those that he wakes up to every morning. They begin to bulge larger and longer as he extends them. Muscle the size of a baseball forces its way onto them as he stands smiling dumbly. His thighs then stain larger to match pace as they expand to hold the weight of someone a foot taller than he. The soothing burn of stretching hides the soreness that should be apparent and Claude begins to sweat as if he has been heartily working out for some time now.

Not to be outdone there is a whisper in his head that he should stretch his arms as well. Without a further thought, almost without his mind even sending the order to do so, his arms are out in front of him. Each second his arms lie extended they stretch further out from his torso. Claude motions to stretch his shoulders, wrapping one arm around the other, his biceps rub against each other as he squeezes his arm tight to his chest. His arms begin to show a bulge of muscle as he stands there biting his lip at the pleasure being wrought upon him through simple stretching.

Finally he raises his arms above his head to stretch his meager chest, struggling to do so as his larger muscles have begun to impede his dexterity. With his arms in the air and his pits exposed he notices that something has begun to stink up the locker room he’s been stretching in. Claude opens his eyes looking for the assailant, to no avail. He turns his head to the side thoughtlessly putting his nose in his pit, finding the scent closer he takes a deep breath before finding himself starting to chub at the scent. The voice in his head laughs, “¡Jajaja! ¡Nice brazos (arms) perrito! ¿A ti también te gusta mi olor, eh?” (You like my smell as well huh?)

Despite his best efforts at centering himself during his stretches, he is once more consumed with anxiety. He looks down at his body that he knows should be petite but instead finds one that does not go two days without hitting el gimnasio. He flinches as his mind automatically went for the word in Spanish. Wait, did the voice in his head just say his smell!? He sniffs the air and a thought forces itself to the front of his mind, Well this is what I wanted wasn’t it? His ears ring as he is not sure if those are his thoughts or ones implanted by whatever monster is doing this to him.

Claude feels an itch on his hand and he looks down to see the hand that clicked that link some time ago as it begins to darken. He sees a rich tan begin to spread up his suddenly muscular arm as veins throb down it aiming to increase the mass. “Q- What es, happening!?” Claude turns to look in the mirror and finds the tan racing across his body. He sees the patches of his unmistakably white skin tone become naturally sunkissed as his eyes widen in shock. He freezes up and the voice in his head takes advantage and tries to seize control outright, flexing his arm and revealing the thin patch of blonde hair in his pit as it grows dark as the hair on his head and thickens beyond the pale. The voice speaks in his mind deeper and stronger than ever as he begins to outright vie for control, “Tranquilo Claudio. (Chill out Claudio.) Let us see what I can do jaja!”

It takes a bit of concerted effort but the voice, who outs himself unsurprisingly as Carlos himself, step by step forces Claude’s body across the room in his catatonia. Claude feels a smirk on his face as Carlos positions him at the bench press. He clumsily lays back on the bench before checking the weights. Looks like some cabrón left his weights on the bar, though actually it's fortunate as Carlos doubts he has the ability to do such complex motor functions as he feels Claude start to wake from his stupor.

Carlos feels an itch on Claude’s face and he begins to smirk as he feels facial hair begin to grow, “Ay he might have cojones yet jaja!” Claude feels his mouth move of its own accord and finally notices that his voice has lowered considerably and he feels his body struggle as he tries to gasp as hears it develop a deep accent.

Before Claude can wrestle control back Carlos grabs for the bar and starts to do a rep. He grunts as he realizes this body is simply not strong enough at the moment to manage the weight that was left on the rack. As the pole is just about to pin him however Claude senses the peril and both minds in the body force the bar up. “¡Bien Claudio! Let’s see what we can do juntamente si?” (together yes?) Claude tries to grunt out a protestation but is suddenly racked with pain as his body must grow larger to force the bar up.

Both men feel as weight begins to pile onto the twink’s only recently muscled body. Claude feels as pecs develop on his chest, totally ripping the tank top that had grown tight while stretching. Carlos feels as his biceps surge larger than the thighs this weak body had not two hours ago. The expression on his face flickers between ecstasy and concern as he lies on the bench doing repetitions as his core strengthens and puts on mass.

After his chest and arms grow large enough to send existential fear into Claude’s mind and a hungry lust for more into Carlos’ balls, Claude stumbles off the bench and falls to the floor, letting the weights crash next to him. He feels pin pricks as tattoos begin to stain his tanned skin and he cries out in his changed voice, “No! Este es- This isn’t right!” with each word his voice cracks deeper and the English words become a tad more difficult to maneuver his mouth around. Without a beat, Carlos immediately takes control of his mouth and responds as his voice finishes changing to match the one in his head. “Ah, ahí estás equivocado amigo. Esto es perfección.” (Ah, there you are wrong friend. This is perfection)

Claude stands to stare in the mirror watching sweat trail down his body and ink rise in his skin. He looks at his chin as a beard begins to shadow his face. He sees his eyes as they flicker and begin to darken to a deep cacao brown. His lip quivers as if he is about to cry before without any input from him it turns to a sneer as he feels Carlos chastise him without words. Claude feels a pit in his chest as not only does he not need to hear them, he begins to feel the disdain himself. As if the will of Carlos was starting to become his own.

This causes a surge in his crotch as he feels in that regard Carlos has already wrestled full control. He feels his balls that are not his begin to grow and demand attention. They feel full and needy as pre begins to leak out of his growing erection. That happens anytime he goes to the gym si? As his eyes shift down to see his bulge make itself known his facial hair expands and his pubes begin to crest above his waistline. The small bush of pit hair begins to grow into a jungle as his balls work overtime to produce testosterone to power his poderoso body.

Feeling the hormones from Carlos’ balls pump through his veins Claude realizes what a losing battle he faces. He feels his thoughts begin to mingle with the man he foolishly allowed into his body as he begins to feel himself overwhelmed with the pressure and lust issuing forth from his crotch. He feels his fluency in English begin to wane as Carlos begins to overpower every aspect of his personality. Claude continues to stare at his reflection in the mirror and the anxiety and fear rapidly dissipate as he enjoys the power that he wields. “¡Dios estoy tan chacondo!” (God I’m so Horny) The two men voice as one, his voice reverberating through his chest as he feels power continue to surge through him.

Claude watches as his body flexes itself in the mirror without a single thought or any input from him. Not that he minds, it’s doing exactly what he would be doing anyway si? He smirks seeing his cock bob up and down as he struts across the gym floor. Every thought in his head is in fluent Spanish as he feels his identity fully mingle with Carlos’ as they truly become one. Despite this originally being Claude’s body he feels himself shrink and mold as he becomes an aspect of Carlos’ personality. Every action, every word, every movement will be crafted by the two of them. Though altogether Claude will just about always find himself thinking just as Carlos does, and both minds will more often than not be ruled by the powerful hormones coming from below.

“Debería haber preguntado sobre los términos y condiciones, Hermano.” (Should’ve asked for the terms and conditions bro.) He thinks to himself as he makes his way to the gym’s showers to pump one out. Over time even Carlos would forget that this has not always been his body. Each day he would continue to make it his own, increasing his mass and power. Outgrowing a wardrobe of clothes he would never be caught dead wearing. It did not take long at all to establish his supremacy as Carlos Herrero. Though there was some inherent difficulty navigating this land only knowing Spanish, Carlos managed well enough, confident that if needed he could perhaps let his passenger breathe enough to regain some English. At this point however it’s hard to say if any remnants of Claude remain, and moreover if he would even desire to emerge back into his own mind, it is of course much easier to simply indulge in the ceaseless pleasure he has found for himself within Carlos’ mind.

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possessionsyeahman · 4 hours

Text

Spanish Shortcuts

Heyo, Here’s a Latino cultural/racial change, also my first foray into a possession transformation! Lessons to be learned about clicking dodgy links and letting spirits walk all over you!

¡Espero que lo disfrutes Atajos en Espanol! -Occam

132 notes · View notes

possessionsyeahman · 4 hours

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A Surprise Gift

“Are you fucking for real dude?” Jim slammed the door to their apartment and stumbled toward the couch, “I was this close.” He sat down and stared daggers at his roommate.

“She wasn’t interested bro.” Eric replied, “You were acting like a fucking creep.” Jim muttered a few curse words under his breath, “Sober up.” He tossed him a water bottle.

“Fucking cock blocker.” Jim whined before chugging the water, “She would’ve been lucky to...”

“You say that about everyone. Its gross man.” Eric sighed, “Look, I’m going to bed. You should too. And clean up the kitchen tomorrow. I’m tired of all the dishes in the sink.” Jim shot him another dirty look and stumbled to his bed.

“Fucking asshole.” Eric mumbled, hoping to forget this stupid night out.

_______

The next morning, Eric stumbled out of his room in just a pair of gray boxers. It was Sunday and he had a few things he needed to get done- mainly study for an upcoming exam and exercise. And of course, Jim was up playing videogames.

“Did you start on the dishes?” Jim glared at Eric, and before they could continue bickering, someone knocked on their door.

Jim mumbled something about it being too early, as Eric walked over and opened the door. Sitting in front of the door was a white box, addressed to Jim.

“Hey Jim, you got something.” Eric said, placing the box on the counter, “Any idea what it might be?”

Jim smirked, “Probably from one of my admirers.” He chucked, walking over and tearing open the box, “See dude, this is what happens when you... what the fuck?”

Eric couldn’t help but laugh at the contents of the box. Whoever left it had a sense of humor. There were several dick shaped lollipops, all of various sizes and colors. Jim looked mortified as he inspected them.

“Was this you dude?”

“Wasn’t me.” Eric replied, walking over and inspecting the contents, “Maybe someone’s trying to tell you something. You gonna try one?”

“No fucking way man.” Jim grimaced in disgust, “This mouth doesn’t suck dick. I’m throwing this shit out.”

Eric chuckled, “I’m not that insecure about my sexuality.” He said with a grin, plopping one of the lollipops in his mouth, “Besides, don’t you like doing it with guys too?”

Jim smirked, “I get sucked or I fuck. Not the other way around. I’m not some hole.”

Eric wanted to call Jim an asshole, but was at a loss for words. The flavor of the lollipop was intense, coating his mouth with an intoxicating sweetness. He began sucking vigorously on the lollipop, earning him a look from Jim.

“Yo dude, you enjoying that?” Jim chuckled.

Eric’s eyes widened, “Damn,” He chucked in embarrassment, “It’s pretty good.” He looked at the time though and sighed, “Shit I need to get ready. Finish those dishes, okay?”

But the rest of the day just didn’t feel right to Eric. Likely from the booze he told himself. His workout was shitty and even studying felt useless. Material he mastered was almost as confusing as when he first started. Feeling defeated, he headed back to his apartment.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Jim asked, his eyes never leaving the TV.

“Not much, just feeling off.” Eric replied, absent mindedly grabbing another lollipop and sucking on it, “Just gonna get ready for bed and start fresh tomorrow.” He stumbled to his room, collapsing onto his bed and drifting to sleep.

_______

The next morning brought no relief. In fact, Eric felt worse. As he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed things were off. Maybe it was the lighter color of his hair, or the fact that his triceps and biceps looked less swole. Same with his pecs and legs for that matter. He poked at his pec and grimaced. It felt less firm, almost as if the muscle behind them was breaking down.

“I just need to work out.” He mumbled.

He threw on a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, noticing that they seemed baggy on him compared to their usual tight fit. He probably fucked them up in the laundry. But he was running late- he didn’t have time to worry.

“See yA lAter!” He called out to Jim- his voice cracking, which caused him to turn red with embarrassment.

Jim raised an eyebrow and watched as Eric grabbed another lollipop, “Hey dude, maybe...” But before he could say anything, Eric was gone.

_______

Eric sighed as he returned to the apartment later that day, feeling defeated. He couldn’t focus on the review session his professor was leading. Every time he looked up, he couldn’t help but stare at some of the men in his class. More specifically their muscular arms, sexy smiles, and facial hair. While Eric never seemed to notice those things before, it was all he could focus on during class.

“Hey mAn.” Why the fuck did his voice keep cracking?

Jim looked over at Eric, “Woah dude, you don’t look so good.” He walked over to his roommate. Eric blushed when he noticed Jim wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

He must’ve just worked out. Eric could smell his musk and couldn’t help but notice how big his arms appeared. The heat from his body was radiating, and without thinking, Eric placed a hand on his roommate’s large pec. It felt so good- so firm in his grasp.

“Woah dude, what the fuck?” Eric’s hand shot to his side. He looked down, deep in thought and trying to make sense of his actions.

Before Jim could speak again, Eric grabbed another lollipop and fled to his room, slamming the door and collapsing onto bed, tears stinging at his eyes.

_______

The following morning, Eric awoke and daintily hopped out of bed and sauntered to the bathroom. He found himself needing to pull up his boxers to prevent them from sliding off his skinny waste. When Eric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared in the mirror, he jumped.

“Wh-what the fuck?” He whispered, his voice more high pitched and feminine, “Where’d my pit hair go?” He mumbled raising an arm above his head, “Fuck what happened to my muscles?” Tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

His hard earned muscles- tokens of his masculinity- all seemed to have shrunk down to nothing. His abs that he worked so hard on were gone, replaced by a thin layer of fat. He spent years working to get his body to peak athletic performance. Even a few days of underperformance at the gym shouldn’t have reversed his hard earned gains. He needed to get help... Jim could help him, right? Jim always looked good. So muscular and manly. Eric shook his head and took a few deep breaths.

“I kinda look like the guys Jim brings home” He whispered, a strange pride rising from within him, “I-I need to talk to Jim”, He left to find Jim. But as he did, he noticed the dishes still piled in the sink, “Hmm I should take care of those for Jim. He works so hard.” He thought, deviating from his path and grabbing another lollipop. If he was going to do the dishes, he might as well treat himself.

And when he finally finished, he treated himself to another lollipop. Barely remembering why he wanted to talk, he went to knock on Jim’s door. But the sound coming from the other side stopped him- the unmistakable sound of some porn video. And he could hear his roommate moaning.

With each masculine moan, Eric’s mind was melting. Why was some porno making Jim moan like that? Especially when he could make Jim moan like that? The thought of pleasing Jim... it was intoxicating. And as these thoughts violated his mind, he reached down and massaged his ass. He imagined Jim- his sweaty body, his big muscles, his huge dick- grabbing and slapping his ass And as he teased his asshole, Eric’s eyes began to widen- what the fuck was he thinking?

He scurried back to his room, forgetting that he had an exam today. Instead, he sat there, sucking on another lollipop, and trying to make sense of what was happening to him. All the while, unaware that his ass was starting to fatten up as his dick shrank.

_______

Eric stumbled out of his room a few hours later, hungering for another lollipop. His ass was massive now- nearly spilling out of his tight boxers. At least they weren’t loose anymore. But his gait had shifted too. He would never be able to walk again without showing off his ass with his sexy saunter. No one would ignore it- especially not Jim.

“Dude...” Jim said, looking up from his videogame, “Fuck...”

Eric’s face turned red, “Dude, I don’t...” He tried to find another lollipop but they were gone, “Bro! What happened to all the...?”

“You ate them all.” Jim said, walking over to Eric, “Shit, what happened to you dude?”

But Eric was near tears, “I need those lollipops, please.” He whined, “They’re so good.” And without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around Jim’s muscular torso and sobbed into his pecs.

Jim smirked. Since when was Eric so short? And damn, when did his ass get so fuckable? The jock cupped Eric’s chin and stared deeply into his eyes.

“Eric, I don’t know what happened to you.” He said with a grin, “But if you wanna suck cock so bad, why settle for those stupid lollipops?”

Eric looked up at him with wide eyes, unable to reply. Jim slowly pushed Eric to his knees, never breaking eye contact. And Eric, despite the voice in the back of his head screaming for him to stop, pulled down Jim’s shorts. His roommate’s monster of a cock slapped him in the face.

“Go on.” Jim encouraged, “I think you owe me for all the times you cock blocked me. Right roomie?”

And with that, Eric wrapped his lips around Jim’s thick cock. The sensation was even more intoxicating than the lollipops. It filled his mouth- the saltiness dancing across his taste buds, while the smell of Jim’s manly musk invaded his nostrils. Eric’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Jim thrust his cock deeper and deeper into his formerly straight roommate’s throat. And with each thrust, Eric’s hair became lighter and lighter- until settling on platinum blond. At the same time, Eric’s mind was breaking down. His interest in sports disintegrated- he would email his coaches that he was quitting the team. His desire to succeed in school was replaced by a need to suck and get fucked- he would drop out of school tomorrow. Any decency or respect he commanded was drowned in a sea of lust- a need for cock. Any cock, anywhere. Eric’s eyes became vacant and glazed over as the remainder of his intelligence, kindness, and ambition disappeared into the void. And when Jim caught the dull, submissive, slutty look in his roommate’s eyes, he came.

_______

It had been a few weeks since then and Eric continued to serve his sexy roommate. Jim would go to practice and classes, while Eric would take care of things around the apartment. And when Jim would return, Eric was happy to provide him with either his mouth or ass. Sure, it was a surprise to when he came out as gay. And an even bigger surprise when he dropped out of college. But Eric hadn’t a care in the world. Just a hole- as Jim called him.

As he spent another day cleaning up after Jim, he heard a knock at the door.

“OMG is Scott here already?” Eric sang. Jim was nice enough to let the other members of the team use Eric when they needed. But Eric was disappointed to find just a letter addressed to him, “Hmm okay then.” He whined, opening it.

His vacant eyes read through the letter. Something about an apology. That those lollipops were meant to teach Jim a lesson for using others as nothing more than holes. That this wasn’t what they wanted. That there could be a way to reverse this. Eric giggled- a voice screaming from within his mind to reverse it. To call the number left on the letter and return him to his prior self. But Eric shrugged and tore the letter- the voice in the back of his head now sobbing.

“Reverse this?” He giggled, “Not a chance.”

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possessionsyeahman · 2 days

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Karma

“Tyler, bro. I already said I’m sorry like a f*cking 1000 times! But I have no clue how to fix this.”

My real name is Mike. And up until last night, I was a 5′10″, 300 lb nerd working at a video game store. I spend my nights going to community college, and my days going to work. Oh also, I’m gay. No man has ever really liked me, so I spend my time on grindr not really finding anything. I had a huge crush on Tyler, a guy that worked at GNC across from me in the mall. He was so big and buff, but treated EVERYONE like shit. Even the customers! ugh.

Anyway, last night I downloaded this new app “KarmaSwap”. Never really heard of it, but my coworker Brad HIGHLY recommended it. I decided to check it out at home on a friday night. I opened the app and made an account and the screen was blank except for a “Looking for compatible partner”. I fell asleep watching Rick and Morty.

Keep reading

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possessionsyeahman · 3 days

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1. Spider-Change

•••This is my first story, please be nice•••

A regular guy named Ted works a dead end job, at his family owned Pizzeria. He is from our regular boring world.

Ted is gay and not many people know, except his mom, dad, and his best friend Lucy. He lives in a townhouse he’s renting from a horrible landlord who is super greedy but didn’t charge the worst prices and the house is “livable” to be there inside. But there was always one thing that made it all better, since high school he’s a crush on this Jock named Tony. For a long time he’s been in Tony’s life and he even ended up being his next door neighbor. They weren’t the closest of friends but they were friends-ish, that’s how Ted saw it at least.

That morning, Ted his new found power was testing them out all day, summoning food, money, changing his height or clothes. But he wanted a real challenge, something interesting. He came outside and when he saw it, he knew exactly what he wanted. He saw Tony who was decorating his house for Halloween. Ted goes over to him to talk about Halloween and at some point asks about what Petey is going to be for Halloween. Petey tells Ted that he is going to be Spider-Man for Halloween. Which Ted jokingly replies saying “Your practically are Spider-Man, like look at your muscles and physique, hell you ARE Spider-Man” but is actively trying to change reality, liking the idea of meeting his very own Spider-Man.

Then, Petey then starts feeling disoriented and needs to go inside. Soon after, when he is inside he begins to transform and his muscles grow. His chest expanding, arms getting bigger, and even his height increase quite a bit. His eyes and hair darkened, his body hair thinned, and he got a few years younger, from 22 to 20 years old, which was about Ted’s age. Now with a new personality, emotions, memories and relationships.

Later that day Ted comes back to check up on Petey, feeling worried since he didn’t seem okay last time they spoke. When he knocks on Petey’s door, he sees the door swing open, a muscular Petey in Spider-Man costume pulls him inside. Ted is shocked and thrown off guard so much by all of it happening so quickly. They are in the living room and Ted is thrown onto the couch forcefully. Unable to help getting a little excited by it all. He stared up at his friend Tony, or Spider-Man now, secretly Peter Parker. Tony’s demeanor was no longer his casual and friendly, but confident and strong. Ted, overwhelmed by the surreal situation, just stared at his old friend who suddenly embodied the essence of Spider-Man. It was both exhilarating and dizzying for Ted.

Spider-Man is confused as to who Ted is and where Spider-Man is at the moment. “Who are you? Where the hell are we? This isn’t Queens, that’s for sure!” He says sounding upset. Ted replies saying “Well this is your house and I’m your best friend!” Spider-Man unknowing of Ted’s powers, once again shifts his memories. Spider-Man doesn’t feel to keen on trusting him but Ted’s powers sway away his distrust and he softens up. Spider-Man sits down across from him replies with “hmm okay…I’m having trouble with my head, it’s so foggy” still feeling somewhat unsure but disoriented.

Ted then commented trying to distract, “wow that Spider-Man suit looks rlly good on you” he says with a slight attraction to how it hugs his body so tightly.

Spider-Man feeling feeling awkward over it, he says “Knock it off, and stop staring, that’s rude”. Ted didn’t take too kindly to what he said, so he might as well fix it, smiling to himself.

Ted looks up at him with a fake confused look, then says “Why? You always love it when I’m checking you out, you always get so excited and you even try to hide it. It’s hard to do that in the suit.” He chuckles to himself, altering reality again.

Spider-Man paused for a moment, feeling even more disoriented. It was as if Ted's words were slowly changing his memories. He looked down at his costume, noticing how tight it was, hugging his body in all the right places. He wasn't sure why, but something about Ted's words resonated with him. He felt a strange excitement rising within him, even though he couldn't quite remember ever feeling that way before.

"excited?" Spider-Man thought, his voice filled with confusion, now changing him. He covers his crotch with his hands, trying to play it cool as he feels himself slowly get hard. Feeling himself being checked out by Ted. Then thinks to himself “what is going on? I wasn’t like this a second ago but wasn’t I always like this though?” His memories conflicting

Ted says, “Are you feeling okay?” with devilish grins knowing it’s his powers causing this. Tony replies, “I’m not sure, I don’t know why I feel like this when I don’t feel any kind of way towards you” he says sweating in the suit, causing it to stick more to him, as if it’s not tight enough already.

“What do you mean, you’ve always felt strongly towards me, never getting enough of me and my ‘attention’” Ted saying, changing reality AGAIN, “your addicted to me”

Tony’s mind warps further, he zones out and snaps back in. He looks back up at Ted and it’s as if he is looking through new eyes, no longer the same person he was, no trace of his past self.

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possessionsyeahman · 6 days

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“Oh fuck. What a way to start my time inside this sexy twink body.” I say in my new voice as I leave the backseat of my Grindr hookup’s car. “I can tell you are gonna be fun, Devin.” I wipe the cum off my mouth and grin.

I agreed to swap bodies with this twink since he was in need of a way to escape his parents’ plans for him to go to college and I was in need of a way to enjoy my youth again. I can say for sure that I never had a body like this though. I’ve always been a heavyset bear, and now in my 40’s I look like a daddy more than ever. But fuck, I won’t lie when I say that being 19-years-old in a cute twinky body is way more fun. I gave that daddy a blowjob he won’t ever forget!

But life isn’t gonna be all sunshine and skinny jeans. I gotta go see my old man so we can start planning all my college shit - financial aid, loans, fuck-all. I’d rather give my new ‘dad’ a time he’ll never forget, but something tells me he won’t like his straight son doing that. Ah well, I might look like an inexperienced pretty boy, but inside I’m a man with his own dreams and desires, and I got plenty of ideas for this body.

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possessionsyeahman · 6 days

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Wake Up Bro

**Shorter story than usual, but still hot and fun. Im experimenting with different styles so I'll be posting stories, both long and short, with pictures and without. I posted this twice to the wrong account LMAO. Enjoy!**

“Wake up bro.” Owen Smith looked around the locker room in confusion, only to realize that, yes, Trevor Elliotson, the most popular guy in his college, was, in fact, talking to him.

“Uh… what?” Owen looked at Trevor in shock, confused by what the jock had just said

“Wake up bro.” Trevor repeated himself, his words carrying a deep resonance that sent a strange shiver down Owen’s spine “You’ve been asleep for too long bro. You have to wake up bro.” Trevor said, giving Owen a cocky smile and punching him on the arm. He seemed to stare right through Owen, as if he could see something inside him. “I… am awake?” Owen said, even more confused. Why was the most popular guy in school talking to him and why wasn’t he making any sense? Was he having a stroke? Suddenly Trevor scowled in disgust, looking at Owen as if he had just noticed him. “I’m not talking to you bro. I’m talking to him. Wake up bro. Are you really gonna let this loser stay in control?” He said with a sneer. Owen was going to ask if he was feeling ok… but felt a strange vertigo come over him. The room spun, and Owen felt himself falling back. Not just physically, but… mentally. It was like he was receding into his own mind. Owen’s body moved without him meaning to as the words repeated in his head, growing stronger and stronger. Wake up bro. Wake up bro. Wake up bro. WAKE UP BRO. Owen was so overwhelmed by the words that he almost didn’t notice his reflection in his mirror. Owen looked in the mirror and his jaw dropped. He was… incredible. His jawline was sharp and defined, the fat on his body was all but gone, and he had become incredibly muscular. He looked like some Jock version of himself. Owen heard Trevor laugh, a deep dumb laugh, and felt himself laugh along, a douchey look on his face.

“That's it Owen bro. It’s just like I said. Let your inner jock wake up. Fuck your old nerdy self. Let your inner bro take over bro.”

Owen felt his mind dull as something else, something from deep inside him that had been sleeping for a long time, took control. Owen raised his biceps into a cocky flex. Owen fell asleep… and Big O, the cocky jock and Trevor's best friend, woke up.

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possessionsyeahman · 6 days

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What about a wholesome story?

Nerd is transformed into jock, but the nerd was so annoying, cruel, and rude, and the jock is so cheerful and friendly, that people prefer him as a jock.

Almost everyone hated Francis Williams. Francis was a stereotypical geek, scrawny as can be, with no muscle, but incredibly smart and equally nerdy. But that wasn’t why people hated him. Sure some people hated Francis because he was a nerd, but most hated him for a much more understandable reason: Francis Williams was a fucking asshole.

Francis was the kind of guy that pissed off everyone, seemingly just for fun. He seemed to get a thrill out of finding just the right way to insult someone and watching them breakdown. He’d break down someone to their base components, find their weaknesses and target them relentlessly. He was a miserable person who treated everyone like they were beneath him. Absolutely no one liked him. Except for Josh Hours.

Josh was a jock, one that was popular for all the right reasons. Friendly, charming, funny and kind, Josh got along with almost everyone. Except Francis. Francis was just as cruel and nasty to Josh as he was to everyone, if not worse. Josh always just laughed it off though. He always went out of his way to be kind to Francis, to try and be his friend, and Francis met this kindness with constant insults and unfiltered hate. Until eventually… something changed.

No one was sure how it happened. Maybe Josh wished upon a magic star for Francis to understand him. Maybe one of Josh’s friends, who saw how badly Francis treated him, sent him a mysterious app. Maybe Francis finally woke up to his true self after a strange encounter. Whatever happened, the outcome was the same: one day Francis was a nerd, and the next he was a Jock. Everyone was aware of the sudden transformation, but no one really wanted to look into it. Mainly because jock Francis, or Frank as he liked to be called, was actually a really great guy. He was confident, kind, outgoing, friendly. Sure he was dumb as a rock but somehow that was just part of his charm. Frank had gone from being the most hated kid in his college to being one of the most beloved.

No one was more thrilled about it than Josh. It took about a week for Josh and Frank to become a couple, and soon they were happy as can be. It made sense that they were so perfectly matched. They were both jocks after all.

**Hope you guys liked this one. It’s a little more wholesome and fluffy than what I usually do, but I enjoyed writing it. Plus who doesn’t like seeing two hot guys kiss? Anyways enjoy!**

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possessionsyeahman · 6 days

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the chavvy lads always annoyed me but secretly turned me on a was envious if them one day a find myself cornered by them...

They hold you back as you feel yourself begin to change. You darkest desires come true as your body morphs.

Your body becomes ripped and covered in ink. Your clothes morph to match your new mates, you feel your cock harden, it's new surprising sizes shocks you as does the rogue accent you now have.

What the fook? you say as your cock hardens feeling like a third leg. You grab one of your mates and force him to take your new meet. Fook Yeah! you shout as you explode in him your massive cum filling him up as you feel amazing. Fook, you love being the new head Chav, so many mates to fook and mark with your powerful seed. So glad you got caught this time!

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possessionsyeahman · 6 days

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Switched again, back and forth between those bro's. Just cant decide, turning them into suits, the other one back again for just another round...

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possessionsyeahman · 6 days

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Jailhouse Bodysuit

The look I get from an inmate when I tell him the only way he’s getting out of here is as a bodysuit. I have plenty of cops in my bodysuit collection, that gives me even more opportunities to harvest bodysuits that are currently living outside of the law. Usually, I convert them during the chase and just say that they got away. With this guy, I’m gonna have to wait until his release date before I convert him. I made sure he still knows what’s coming for him.

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possessionsyeahman · 6 days

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Wake Up Pops

**A sequel to my earlier story, ‘Wake Up Bro’. It might be little premature to write a sequel only a month later, but the second picture really inspired me. Hope you guys like it, and check out the story of Owen’s transformation into Big O**

“Wake up pops.”

Ben Smith looked up at his son in shock. Lately his son, Owen Smith, had been acting strange. He had shot up more than a foot seemingly overnight, and had gained an almost impossible amount of muscle. It almost hurt Ben’s brain to think about it, like he was noticing something he wasn’t supposed to be able to. Like he was staring at the sun. But he brushed his son's seemingly impossible transformation as a strange growth spurt, just like everyone else did. What other explanation was there? What he couldn’t brush off was his sons… other changes. It was like he was an entirely different person. He had gone from the shy, sensitive, geeky kid that Ben adored to a sport obsessed, crude, overly sexual jock. Worst of all, their relationship as father and son seemed to have just… stopped. Owen and Ben used to be so close. Owen looked up to Ben, Ben adored Owen, and they did practically everything together. But since Owen’s transformation into ‘Big O’ he had consistently ignored his father. Too busy with his new position on the football team, with his new jock bro friends, and with the girls he seemed to constantly be hooking up with. This was the first time that Owen had spoken to Ben in weeks, and what he was saying made… no sense.

“Owen? Is something wrong?” Ben asked, his first instinct to help his son. Strange transformation or not, Owen was Ben’s child. He had to make sure he was ok. Owen grinned a cocky, dumb grin, looking at his dad with slight dull eyes.

“Everything fucking great pops. I just need you to wake up pops.” Owen said. Ben looked at him with confusion. What was his son talking about? He was awake, wasn’t he? Own continued, looking at his father with a strange mix of dull amusement and genuine love. “I know you miss the old me. You miss us being close. I’ve missed you too pops. We can be the same again. You’ve just got to wake up pops.”

Ben, concerned and confused, made a move to comfort his son, when suddenly a wave of vertigo overcame him. The room around him dimmed till all he could see was his sons grinning face, his voice echoing around him. “I love you pops, but a stud like me needs a stud dad. A mentor. I can’t have a geek for a dad. And this way we can be close again. You’re meant to be more than this. It’s time to wake up pops.” Owen said, his grin turning more satisfied and victorious.

Ben felt the room began to spin as he fell back mentally, the words repeating in his mind like an all consuming loop, almost like a vortex. Wake up pops. Wake up pops. Wake up pops. WAKE UP POPS.

Ben was so lost in the words that he barely noticed as his son led him over to a mirror. Ben was so shocked by what he saw that he almost passed out right there. He looked… godly. He was impossibly big, with a body so thick and beefy that it commanded respect. His face had become so chiseled and manly that it put marble statues to shame. He barely looked like the suburban dad he once was. More like he belonged in the movies or in porn. He heard Owen laugh, a confident, manly laugh that Ben felt himself echoing without even meaning to. Owen spoke once more, a look of pride on his face.

“Fuck yeah pops! Now we’re both total studs! You let your inner jock wake up, and now we’re gonna fucking rule this town together!”

Ben felt his old self recede, as something else, someone else woke up and took control. Ben fell asleep, and Big Os pops, Coach Smith, woke up. Coach patted his son on the back, a smug grin on his face “Fuck yeah we will son.”

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possessionsyeahman · 7 days

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Trapped

Jake should have known better when he found that weird mirror. Any other person would have freaked out when his reflection started to move and talked back to him. Any other person would have run, but Jake seemed intrigued by all of it. His reflection promised so many things, that with his help he could improve his body, that he could alter reality and ensure that Jake would have the perfect life. Any person with a little bit of intelligence would suspect that there was something dark going on. But Jake, see all of this as an opportunity… what a foolish man. Well, now I can smile as I saw my new reflection. I loved everything about being the new Jake… his muscles, his tribal tattoo, and his handsome face. And for the poor bastard, I hope he enjoys being trapped inside that magic mirror. If he ever gets out of that prison, I am certain that he would have learned the lesson of never messing up with magical items.

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possessionsyeahman · 7 days

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Jay Cutler heard the news that Cbum wanted to go for open bodybuilding. That he was considering it at least. With that news Jay knew he had to get to him. After spending time as Regan, Jay got up and said "I'm going to Canada." Traveling North Jay set up a whole two hour one-on-one coaching session with Chris. Pounding weights in the gym Cbum is drenched in sweat and breathing heavy. Jay nodding his head at the workout he just put him through. "Bro I got one more technique I have to try. " Cbum nods then stands up. "Turn around for me" Cbum follows. Jay closes his eyes then runs up to Cbums back and dives into him.

"Jay Jay stop this. Uunnggggh. Please stop!" Convulsing, Cbum shakes frantically fighting for control. As the very last trace of Jay disappears Chris begins to grow. Feeling his muscles stretch and his heart beating through his chest. Chris grunts through gritted teeth and yells at the top of his lungs. He starts to choke as he feels Jays head push from his chest through his neck and snaps right in place of his. Chris lets out one last scream before blacking out falling to the floor.

Months pass and Cbum is massive. He's been going nonstop in the gym ever since his coaching with Jay. Lets just say someone is enjoying their new life ready for open.

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possessionsyeahman · 7 days

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All It Takes is One Thought

The only thing Sean could think about was Jason. Jason and his stupid growth spurt. He knew that he was going to be late bloomer, but this drastic of a change at the age of 20 was unheard of.

Frusturated he thought about Jason and his perfect tits, bouncable ass, lickable armpits, and kissable lips. What made Sean even more frusturated is that he's never felt this way about another man before, he was confused between wanting to be him and wanting to be fucked by him.

As his hand slid into his pants he collapsed onto his bed, thoughts of Jason completely taking over.

As his weak measly dick rose to life, he continued to play with it until he had to take off his pants. As his dick touched the cold air it started to pulsate harder than it ever has.

Sean closed his eyes and arched his extending neck back as a wave of pleasure came over him on every consequent stroke. He could imagine himself looking up at Jason with his huge rod barely coming close to fitting in his mouth.

But as he kept thinking, another path unlocked. One where he was the one looking down at Jason. He imagined how Jason would unbuckle his pants and drag them down, how his lips would wrap so perfectly around his own dick.

He felt the distance between him and Jason growing as his torso elongated, his legs did the same as he had to spread them further. After he had been given the best blowjob of his life he eould be on top of Jason, sean's now huge veiny foot long cock wedged in between Jason's gigantic globes. As he put it in he went slow, he was a gentle lover after all.

But with each pump he got more aggresive, he could feel his core strengthening as his abs hardened and defined. As his arms inflated like a balloon he would be able to easily pick Jason up as he ragdolled on his dick for hours. An extra impressive feat since Jason was still 300 pounds of pure bodybuilding muscle.

As Sean came time and time again in his imagination, he had also done so in real life. With his torso and sheets absolutely drenched and dripping in cum, he called Jason. Why was he imagining when he could habe the real thing?

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possessionsyeahman · 7 days

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Hey dude ! So i've been having this problem recently while playing CoD online recently. This guy in my group keeps belching into his mic constantly and it's really distracting. I don't even know what's gotten to him, he used to talk normally but now he sounds like a total jock bro. And it's starting to affect our team's performances.

The worst part is that i'm starting to feel like i can .... smell his bo ... like, through my mic. I just wish i wasn't bothered by his belches and his stink, you know ?

Sorry to hear that bro, It can suck when people can be annoying when trying to relax gaming online, but I'll be nice and give you exactly what you want, you won't be bothered by his stink and belching anymore... You finish up a match with your least favourite person to run into online, you say "GG" into the mic and pull up the menu to quit before the ending screen has even finished. You already know what's coming seeing the gamer tags in your lobby, as you scroll down to 'quit game' a loud sound breaks out over lobby call, "BUUUUUURRRRRRRRPP- ugh, gg bro"

You grimace at the noise and press exit before he can fire off again, this dude had been bugging you for days, leaving his mic open you could hear every time he took a sip of his shake or a bite of his food between respawns, but the worst was his constant belching in between call outs or even small talk, but burping wasn't really a reportable offence and he when he actually gave call outs it was good information so you just had to put up with it instead of muting him, still you hoped every game you loaded into you'd be hoping you wouldn't see his gamer tag on your team.

You pressed play again and sat there staring at the que timer waiting. Whilst you sat there you felt a little uncomfortable the room suddenly felt hotter and you began to sweat from under your jumper. A few minutes went by before you decided it was unbearable and you took off your jumper and smelt the strong whiff of musk and saw a small sweat mark start to appear on your t-shirt under your armpit. You hadn't realised you'd been so sweaty and you got up to go change your shirt when you suddenly got into a game, there was not time to change now and you'd have to wait till after the match.

Loading in you let out a sigh of relief seeing the infamous belcher wasn't on your team and so you gladly jumped in call to talk to your team. The game was rough, not for how hard it was to beat the enemy team but you felt strange and uncomfortable the whole time. Your shirt was feeling tighter than usual and you could feel the fabric cling to the sweat on your back. You felt the heat building up in your sweat pants as the fluffy wool chaffed against you thighs which felt like they were now stretching out your pants. At one point you even ripped off your socks hoping that'd start to cool you down, which it didn't. The match ended and you left the game. Taking the back on your hand and wiping it across your forehead you felt the sweat brush off, letting out a deep breath placing your controller on the coffee table in front of you, you saw the sweaty handprints left behind which you only ever saw one the hottest days of summer.

Letting out a deep sigh you stood up and tried to take your shirt off feeling it stick to your skin and the potent smell of musk flowing out from your pits as your arms were above your head. You dropped your shirt on the floor and looked down seeing your chest had pushed out into strong defined pecs and somehow you got abs within the last 20 minutes.

"Ho-holy shit" you laughed as you rubbed your new wash board abs

You scrambled to pull down your grey sweat pants and you weren't disappointed, strong muscled thighs you fell back down to your seat letting out a chuckle as you started feeling up your massive thighs. Thousands of thoughts were flowing through your head, what was happening? HOW did this happen? thinking back on your day trying to remember anything that would have you suddenly turn into a hot fitness model,

but one thought was stronger than the others, you didn't even have to lift up you arm to smell the stench coming from your pits, you smelt like you haven't showered in 2 days and had run a marathon. You leant forward to cancel the que when suddenly the words GAME FOUND appeared at the top of the screen. You thought it'd probably be best to dodge the game and take a shower.....but then again it was your day off and nobody could smell you so it could probably wait until after the game.

You played another round, trying not to focus on the smell of bo in the air around you and eventually you forgot about it all together, you were so focused on the game you didn't even notice yourself constantly shifting in your seat as you tried to make yourself comfortable, reaching back and pulling at your underwear waist band every couple of minutes, not even noticing it was drenched in sweat.

The game ended and you stood up, feeling as your sweaty ass peeled itself off the couch like some kind of wet Velcro, you felt heavy, like your body had put on more size and your stomach grumbled as you felt like you could eat a whole pizza to yourself.

DING DONG

You walked over to your door and opened it to see a pizza delivery guy standing there, you couldn't remember ordering one?

"whoa" the delivery man said as he turned his head to the side holding his nose "here you go dude"

The pizza box was shoved into your hands,

"errr, lemme grab my wallet I guess" you calmly said, forgetting you were standing there in your underwear

"Don't worry about it dude, its all pre paid" the delivery man practically shouted it at you as he backed away

You wondered what his problem was but thought it best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. You shut the door and made your way back to your seat, opening up the box and grabbing a slice and stuffing it in your mouth. Sitting back down you felt the cold as the wet patch on your seat collide with you, you felt it squelch down as the stuffing in the seat was so drenched with sweat.

Game found appeared on the top of the screen and you looked at the pizza slice in your hand. You shoved the whole slice in your mouth and desperately looked around for something to wipe the grease off on, the only thing you could think of was your underwear which barely worked but you thought it did so you picked up your controller covering it with a layer of sweat and grease.

"hey, who's chewing?" someone said over mic

You didn't even realise you had joined the chat, loudly chewing on your food into the open mic.

You played through the game almost an autopilot, just enjoying the sounds of shooting guns, although you'd wish people would stop bitching about whoever was chewing on open mic, they should just mute whoever it is and move on...

Afterwards you walked over to your bench, you felt so stuffed after eating a whole family size pizza in 10 minutes but at the same time you could go for a drink, as you stood up you felt so heavy and puffy, like you were swollen. You walked over to your kitchen ignoring the sound of your large sweating feet slapping against your floor. You turned on your tap and turned your head sideways gulping down mouthfuls of water. The water spilled out and ran down the side of your mouth as you gulped and swallowed, gasping for air in-between mouthfuls, as you stood up right again mid mouthful having had your fill and the water spilled out of your slack jaw and ran down your chest. You gut groaned and you leant forward on your counter top rubbing your abs,

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP

You gasped for air after letting out the loudest belch of your life, the water on your lips and chin still dripping off your face forming little droplets on your counter top,

uuUURP

you let out another smaller belch as you reached around to scratch your sweaty ass. You began making your way back over to your game wanting to play another round, each step was strange, like you were getting heavier and heavier, heaving your floor creak. Your chest and jaw were itchy and as you scratched you felt stubble poking out of your skin and felt as sweat and grease got trapped under your nails.

Reaching your chair you grabbed onto the back of it, needing to catch your breath almost exhausted from the 20 steps you had taken. You spun your gaming chair around and threw your entire weight into it, a large strenuous noise rang out from every joint, screw and bolt, like the chair almost crumbled under you. Jiggling in your place you felt sweat be pushed out of the seat like squeezing a wet sponge as your ass made its way into the massive groove you had created.

Picking up your controller you felt the greasy surface connect with your hand. Your chest began to itch again and you took the edge of the controller and rubbed it against you chest hair.

You hadn't noticed but as you walked over to your seat you had gotten bigger, and hairier, the stench coming off your skin was now not just drifting through the air but it was clinging to you, getting stuck in your new hairy body quickly making you smell worse.

game found appeared on the screen and you quickly lost interest in how hair you had become.

"hey what's going on team" a dude called out

you opened your mouth to respond but instead

BUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

You let out a loud monstrous belch, you felt it vibrate in your chest and thighs, you felt it as your shoulder blades creeped up above the top of your gaming chair and as your thighs were pushed together as they got thicker but had nowhere to go but inwards forcing you to close your man spread. The chair under you groaned and you couldn't help but groan along with it as you felt so heavy and big, like you were being weighed down by a car.

"bro could you not burp in mic?" someone complained

"sorre-UUUUUUUUUUUURRRPPPPPP" You just couldn't help it, you couldn't even get through your words without letting yourself burp like a pig.

two of your team mates instantly left the voice call and the two that remained began to complain about how rude it was to do that over open mic. You weren't really paying attention to them though as you laughed thinking to yourself they were probably two dudes who were a quarter of your size.

Days went by and you didn't notice how bad thing were, you floor covered in pizza boxes, a large mark on your coffee table had formed like someone had forgotten to put something under a drink but it was from you putting up your large feet. Energy cans were on the ground around your chair from just being tossed down to the floor when you were done. Your controller itself started to come undone at the joins from being gripped by your enormous ape like hands,

but you didn't notice any of it because you didn't give a fuck, the only things you cared about now was being big, playing CoD.

You'd become a mindless muscle slob who was, belching and sweating like a pig.

I'm sure you won't care next time a guy burps on mic, in fact it might even be a turn on for you now. Better focus up muscle pig you just got another game.

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