#ass growth

[growth-opportunities]

The travel brochures advertised the island getaway as a "Lush and Fertile Paradise", but Lauren had no idea just how true that statement would prove to be.

Within a few days of her arrival, her clothes started getting tighter. Her breasts bulged out from behind her bikini top and her soft hips strained the limits of the bottoms. Clothing on the island was expensive, but she didn't have a choice! By the end of the first week, every article of clothing she had brought with her was too small to fit around her swelling curves. She even grew taller, stretching higher and higher, making her both a spectacle and a goddess.

The hardest part was the sensitivity. The island didn't just want her to have fertile, sensual curves; it wanted her to use them! Long nights were spent writhing in bed, moaning loud enough to shake the walls, burning through batteries as her vibrator buzzed between her thighs. A glance at her growing cleavage was enough to get her excited and an arm brushing against her forced a moan from her throat.

She clung desperately to hope, but it was growing thinner by the day. Her tits were dominating more and more of her torso and the narrow doors of her room were threatening her widening hips. She told herself that she only had a week left of her vacation and then things would settle down. But, at the rate things were going, she wasn't sure she'd fit on the plane!

[immortalmrwavell]

The Identity Transfer

(Original story posted February 6th 2023) This story has been mildly Updated!

Written for @the-natwolf

It’d been a long day for Nat as he arrived home feeling exhausted and wanting nothing more than to chill out for the last few hours of the evening. The first thing he did was whip up a nice hot meal for himself to satiate his growling stomach. Soon after he’d finished his meal, he was collapsing onto his bed with a drink in hand as he pulled out his phone and scrolled through some of his socials.

Naturally it wasn’t long before he found himself on Instagram. He took a sip from his drink as he flicked through the various posts. Some were of his friends, some being adverts and others being funny videos. But of course one of the most common themes while scrolling had to be the huge manly hunks showing off their half naked bodies. As a gay man, who could blame him. There would be bears, jocks, dads and meatheads alike just filling his feed to the point where more often than not Nat found himself unable to go on Instagram in public.

“Damn he looks good…” Nat mumbled to himself as he stopped on an image of a bear showing off his big hairy pecs and stomach. In honesty he’d always been a little jealous of men like that. Men that were huge and masculine. It made sense though. After all, Nat was 26 now and stood at around 5’7 with a pretty lean average build. He wasn’t really that hairy either. He might not have been as hunky as the men he drooled over but he didn’t hate his body. He was content with what he had… mostly. When there were guys out there his age and younger that were well over 6 foot and stacked with muscle, it was hard not to be at least a little envious of them.

He took another sip of his drink before his seemingly endless scrolling was stopped dead in its tracks. Up had popped a new post from one of his favourite dudes on Instagram. Ched Uzor!

He was a massive dude in every sense. Incredibly tall and insanely muscular with dashing good looks that made the smaller man swoon every time. Along with almost any gay man for that matter. He was gorgeous! So much so that Nat couldn’t help but pull up the man’s profile and start scrolling through all his posts again like he had many times before. He could never get enough of drinking that man in.

As it turned out Ched was an online coach that took on clients to help with training and getting into shape so naturally this meant he posted tons of pictures and videos dedicated to showing off his physique. Plentiful amounts of shirtless pics in the mirror to show off his god-like body for all to see. There were even a few where he stood in nothing but a towel or a tight pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. Those posts always drove Nat and many others crazy. Getting to see those chiselled abs and incredible pecs was always a treat. Not to mention those colossal arms of his that needed no introduction. Apparently he considered them his best feature and for good reason. Just one of Ched’s gigantic biceps looked to be the same size as one of Nat’s legs!

He continued to search through the bank of juicy content with a growing tent in his jeans. There were of course many workout videos to go with all the pics he put up which was just the icing on the cake. Getting to see Ched working those impressive muscles of his in an effort to pump them even bigger than they already were. He really couldn’t be more of a beast! Though his British English accent was something that frequently threw Nat off. He hadn’t expected it when he first heard Ched’s voice but he certainly didn’t hate it. He found it being quite the turn on actually!

Eventually he’d begun to lose himself a bit. Soon finding himself gulping the rest of his drink down so he could focus on rubbing his arousal over his jeans while gawking at this man’s amazing body. “Fuck… I wish I could be just like him.” Nat muttered to himself. He was just about ready to unzip and whip his dick out when suddenly a strange pop up filled his screen. It said:

- Our service has deemed you eligible for an identity transfer. From what we can gather, you wish to become like the user of this account “Ched Uzor”. Would you like us to proceed in making that possible for you? -

Beneath the message was a green accept button and a red deny button. Naturally Nat’s first instinct was to deny with strange pop ups like this but as his finger hovered over the red option, he hesitated. He had no idea why but for some reason, something deep down was telling him to accept. The logical part of his mind was telling him it was most likely a scam or a virus or some kind but at the same time something else was tugging at him. Telling him that it was real and to just trust it… so he pressed accept. After which there was a slight nervousness building in his chest as a new pop up emerged that simply read:

- Confirmation Received. Preparing Physical Transfer… Gathering Information… -

Seeing this Nat began to panic slightly. What was he thinking accepting this random link!? It was probably taking all the personal info off his phone right now! Next thing he knows he’s gonna have an emptied out bank account and most of his emails compromised! Though just as the fear began to set in, the screen changed once again.

- Preparation Complete! Beginning Physical Transfer… 0% -

Physical transfer? What the hell did that mean? Well Nat was soon about to find out. He tapped away at his phone a little, trying to back out from whatever this was but nothing was working. Even pressing the home button or holding down the power button did nothing as the percentage metre slowly began to tick up.

His eyes widened in disbelief when he noticed the pale skin on his hands beginning to darken. At first he thought he was seeing things but he couldn’t deny it when they started expanding too! Growing larger and meatier while also gaining a more weathered look you’d see on guys who did plenty of physical labour or spent lots of time in the gym. Before long his enlarged hands had turned a deep ebony in colour and that darker hue was quickly starting to spread across his light skin. He tossed his phone onto the couch in panic as he could do nothing but watch this bizarre transformation progress…

- Physical Transfer… 5% -

Next up were his forearms. His skin didn’t waste any time in converting from his usual pale white to a much darker tone. His biceps and shoulders soon followed the same example until both of Nat’s arms looked as though they belonged to a black man! He barely had time to process this though as moments after he felt a warm tingle flow up and down his arms for a second until suddenly they began expanding with muscle!

It began once again with his forearms pumping up rather aggressively with his biceps and triceps quickly following suit as they grew to seemingly no end. It wasn’t long before he’d not only filled out the sleeves of his shirt but the fabric was beginning to dig into his biceps until a faint ripping sound could be heard. That sound only got louder as his shoulders started to bulge, growing into huge boulders of muscle.

He looked… ridiculous! His arms were huge, bulky and a completely different colour to the rest of his small white body. Thankfully it wouldn’t stop there though. As soon as his arms finally reached their full enormous size, the transformation began to spread further.

- Physical Transfer… 25% -

Saying Nat was bewildered would be an understatement. He took a second to marvel at his arms by moving and flexing them a little as he stood up from the couch. The sleeves on his t-shirt were torn in multiple places and only continued to tear as he checked out his new guns. They were gigantic to say the least. He’d go as far as to say his arms were now bigger than a lot of the jock dudes he’d seen at the local gym. Though, as incredible as they were, they probably looked rather silly and out of place on his much smaller pale body.

Just then however, as if on cue, there was another warm tingle that darted around his torso. Of course Nat had been far too focused on the new size of his arms to notice that the skin beneath his shirt had continued changing. It started with small splotches of colour appearing across his chest, stomach, back and traps. At first making his skin appear tanned in those spots but as the patches spread and connected to one another, the tone deepened even further until it matched the same rich ebony skin colour his arms now proudly adorned.

- Physical transfer… 40% -

After what had just happened down with his now hulking arms, Nat already had a good idea of what to expect next when the warm tingle across his torso subsided. He stared down at himself, breath hitching slightly as he waited. And then he felt it. A strange pulsing sensation flooding through his upper body and then…

“UUROOUGGHH!…” Nat bellowed as his chest suddenly heaved forwards, his once unimpressive pecs eagerly starting to take shape. What was previously a relatively flat chest ballooned out into a juicy pair of meaty muscle tits that strained desperately against the front of his shirt. At the same time he found his torso growing thicker and wider in unison with his pecs. His back broadened more by the second until a massive rip tore across the spine of his shirt as he hulked out of it. It simply wasn’t able to contain so much man.

Nat’s eyes began to flicker and roll with all the intense feelings rushing through him right now. The changes were so overwhelming but at the same time… he didn’t want it to stop. Even smiling a little as he felt his traps start to bulge and his neck thicken slightly to compensate. But it didn’t end there. Even as all this new muscle was growing, his height had been increasing a little as well. His torso had grown significantly longer as his former 5’7 statue extended up to 5’11. It couldn’t be more obvious as his shirt rode up enough to give the world a view of his new thick dark abs.

That said he still looked quite ridiculous. He had the arms and torso of a bulky black man with the head and lower body of an average white dude. Not for much longer though.

- Physical Transfer… 65% -

The changes seemed slowed down towards his neck for time being but they didn’t stop their march downwards to the lower half of his body. Naturally the first things to be swallowed by the darkening skin were his groin and his backside. Then as the tingling began to swarm those two regions, it was near impossible for Nat to hide the huge grin forming on his face. By this point he was fully embracing the insane transformation and only wanted more! He didn’t know how it was possible but it just felt so damn good! All he could think about now was the rest of his body getting huge and how amazing it was going to feel!

The back of his jeans started to grow tighter by the second as his ass expanded aggressively, plumping itself up with more and more muscle. Before long his jeans were forced to really stretch themselves over two thick globes that put his former ass to shame. But it didn’t stop at the heavy black jock butt. If anything Nat’s attention was much more focused on his crotch as he rubbed a large hand over it. He could already feel the next change setting in fast.

His hard and already black cock started to bulge obscenely in his pants as it pumped itself bigger and fatter. Gaining not only length as it bucked and pulsed but some delicious girth as well that would stretch any hole to its limit. He almost couldn’t believe he didn’t cum on the spot as the mushroom tip grew thicker and rounder inside the confines of his jeans. He’d managed to stifle his moans for the most part up until that point but he couldn’t help letting out a long groan when his balls suddenly bloated to a huge and heavy size without warning. A glob of precum stained the inside of his pants as his nuts swelled with jock seed.

- Physical Transfer… 75% -

As was expected by this point, the ebony colour spread down across Nat’s legs causing his thighs and calves to darken multiple shades in tone. The change crept lower before finishing with his feet as they endured the same fate. He pulled up one of his pants legs slightly to confirm this was the case and he couldn’t help but get excited upon seeing the dark skin, knowing what was to come. His entire body from the neck down was black!

Moments later that now familiar pulsing sensation travelled up and down his legs. What followed was the sound of his jeans ripping at seams as his legs started to pack on years worth of hard earned muscle in a matter of minutes. His thighs thickened to watermelon crushing levels of size and power while his calves slowly but surely began to grow to the size of sturdy footballs. During which all Nat could hear was the sound of his legs tearing his jeans apart. But once again it didn’t stop there. Along with all the muscle, his legs began stretching longer as well. It wasn’t long before his already increased height of 5’11 went well past 6 foot and all the way up to 6’4! By that point his muscle had finished expanding leaving him with a set of huge meaty legs and jeans that were clinging on for dear life. They were in complete tatters like his shirt. The button on the front had popped off and his ankles were exposed thanks to the jeans now riding up his legs!

He only got a few seconds to rest however as the next little transformation wasn’t waiting right around the corner. The only warning he got was a pleasant buzzing sensation flowing through his feet before suddenly they began exploding with size. They grew at such a rapid rate that within moments they completely burst out of his shoes. With a grin Nat gave his new black size 14 feet a wriggle, loving the feel of how big they were.

- Physical Transfer… 90% -

Now there was only one part left to go and Nat was ready to embrace it. He closed his eyes with a smile as the darkening skin resumed its spread up over his neck and towards his head. It took a little longer than the rest of the body but before long there wasn’t a trace left of Nat’s once pale skin left. Every inch of him was now a rich dark tone. But with the skin done, it was time for the rest of his features to catch up!

A warm wave of tingly pleasure washed over his head as the final changes began. It started with the lump in his throat shifting slightly and readjusting to give him a slightly deeper and more intimidating voice but also one that could be sensual and charming. The main event however was the face itself. Facial features began moving, growing, shrinking, sharpening and softening in all the right places until there was almost no resemblance to the original Nat left. His jaw was stronger, his lips were fuller and his nose was broader. The only thing left was his hair but even that quickly began to recede from the shaggy mop it had once been into something much shorter. Forming into tight neat curls that were distinctly black. And to top it all off a short bristly beard sprouted across his face to match, making his visage all that much more handsome.

- Physical Transfer… 100%… Complete! Physical Identity of “Ched Uzor” assumed! -

Bringing his hands up to his face, Nat couldn’t believe what he was feeling. Everything about it felt different to the spacing between his eyes to the size of his features to the feeling of his hair. It was insane but at the same time extremely erotic for some reason. He had to see what he looked like.

He was in luck as he’d recently put up a new mirror in his bedroom of which he soon found himself stumbling towards, not used to his new weight and centre of gravity. Though despite having just gone through the whole transformation, nothing could’ve prepared him for what he saw. Staring back at him was a black muscular hunk! But not just any hunk… it was Ched Uzor! *He* was Ched Uzor! The same man he’d been drooling over online for years!

Of course Nat was far too distracted to notice but across the room on his bed, the message on his phone changed as it began to initiate the next phase…

- Preparing Mental Transfer… Gathering Information… -

Being blissfully unaware of this second transfer, Nat immediately began exploring himself with glee. He never imagined he’d get to experience what it felt like to have a body like this. Not only powerful and muscular but extremely tall as well. Before he'd always felt like the short dude in a crowd but now that he was 6’4 things are gonna be very different. Even now he couldn’t help but notice how much smaller everything seemed. How the floor looked so much further away and how things like his bed, desk and closet seemed so tiny now. It was crazy to wrap his head around but he could certainly get used to it.

- Preparation Complete! Beginning Mental Transfer… 0% -

Nat couldn’t help but love how his former clothes were now in tatters as they struggled to contain his new godly form. Despite that, he had to get a proper look. And so he gripped his torn t-shirt and with one swift motion, ripped it off his torso with ease. Tossing the fabric to one side, Nat took the opportunity to marvel at his incredible upper body. Starting by giving his juicy new pecs a generous squeeze before pinching at his dark nipples. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how many guys he’d get to fuck with a body like this. He was gonna have dudes practically falling to their knees before him.

“Mmm I wonder if I can bounce my pecs like this…” Nat mumbled to himself, loving the new English accent to his voice. He struggled at first, flexing the muscle on his chest awkwardly, but then something just hit him. Suddenly he started popping his pecs like a pro. No wonder because he’s been able to bounce them like that for years now!

- Mental Transfer… 10% -

Once he’d had his fun with his pecs, Nat made sure to give his abs a bit of attention as well, running his hands across the hard ridges with a bite of his lip before moving onto his arms. Sure he’d given them a good flex earlier but now he had the rest of the body to back them up. To say they were unreal wouldn’t do them enough justice. They were so massive and juicy that merely moving his huge arms gave him a power rush, never mind flexing them for the mirror. Getting to feel the pure strength behind all that raw muscle was intoxicating.

“Ughhh yeah!… I’m so huge!” He moaned as his enlarged cock strained against his underwear. He was getting drunk on the sensation of how huge his arms were. No wonder he considered them his best feature. He’d always had big arms so when he started training them properly they just exploded with size! Now he and everyone he met couldn’t seem to get enough of them.

- Mental Transfer… 25% -

He just had to see his body in its full glory. Not wasting any more time Chat gripped his jeans and just like with his shirt he ripped them off before tossing the remains to the side. Now all he had covering himself was an extremely tight pair of underwear that had the tip of his excited cock peeking out one of the leg holes. Overall he was pretty surprised that his underwear seemed intact. Or so he thought anyway.

After giving a quick twirl in the mirror, he was fast to notice a huge rip down the back that gave a perfect window view of his large muscle ass. Seeing this Chat couldn’t help but laugh before giving his big butt a hefty slap, enjoying the way it recoiled slightly. “Yeahhh boy! That’s what I’m talkin about!” He smirked as he took pride in the powerful glutes he’d crafted over the years, just as impressive as the rest of his body.

But of course he couldn’t ignore the main course for long. That new cock of his was begging for attention and Chat was willing enough to oblige. He turned back around to face the mirror once more before ripping off his underwear and allowing his fat new dick to spring free at last. Finally he was able to get a good look at his body in its entirety. “Thank fuck I decided to drop college so I could work on my body.” He stated proudly while turning to look at himself from every possible angle

- Mental Transfer… 50% -

Chat was completely oblivious to what was happening to his mind. With every second that passed his personal reality was being warped around him. He was starting to believe that this was all normal while his former identity was slowly being pushed out of his head to be replaced by a new one. His intelligence dropped a fair margin in the process from the IQ of an intelligent young man to the level of a blissful jock. Not dumb per say but not as bright as he once was either.

Despite everything he still found himself insanely turned on by his reflection even if the reasoning for it was becoming blurrier and blurrier with every passing moment. He gripped his thick black member with a dumb grin, loving how it filled his large hand before pumping it slowly. For some reason it felt way more sensitive than usual. Generally his cock was quite active but this was something different. It almost felt like it was begging him to cum. But he had to savour it just a tad bit longer. It felt far too amazing to rush.

He managed to keep a smooth rhythm with his stroking as he continued to explore his buff body for some obscure reason. As he did, a lot of his former smarts were replaced with a bunch of gym, workout and healthy eating knowledge. All of which was necessary to maintain a huge physique like his. He was definitely gonna need it. After all how else was he gonna be an online coach if he didn’t know all the tips, tricks and secrets to getting swole as fuck!

- Mental Transfer… 80% -

As his free hand wandered around the muscular crevices of his body, it eventually found its way to his back side. At first he was simply grabbing and kneading his cheeks which he didn’t think too much of at first. Just enjoying the feeling until he tried to slip a finger towards his hole. The moment said finger grazed that tight puckered hole however, his eyes snapped open. “The fuck am I doing!?” He questioned out loud as he drew his hand away from his ass. He wasn’t sure why the hell he’d been doing that. After all he’d never been into ass stuff before. Not to mention his asshole is clamped shut anyway. No way anything was getting up there anytime soon. Instead he just tried to shake off the weird experience and focus on jerking off instead.

“Fuuuuck bro! Why am I so horny today!?” Chet moaned as his cock began spluttering pre-cum relentlessly, getting his hand wet and sticky. “I need a hookup or something. Haven’t been with a girl in weeks…” he droned off mindlessly, not even realising the problem with what he’d just said. Yet despite everything it was still his thick muscular body that was the main attraction of his sexual desire right now.

- Mental Transfer… 90% -

Chet began stroking faster as he bounced his pecs again in the mirror, his own body seeming so hypnotising for some reason. It baffled him as he’d never felt this way about himself before but he didn’t bother questioning it. How could he when he could already feel his fat bull balls starting to churn. They were getting ready to shoot while his cock grew more and more sensitive by the second. All of his senses were being overloaded as a thick haze settled over his mind. And soon enough that pleasure began to peak…

Chet couldn’t stop himself from flexing almost every muscle in his body involuntarily as his balls squeezed, sending a fat load up towards his cock until… “FUUUUUUuuuuuccckkkkk…” Chet moaned heartily as his massive dick shot rope after rope of hot thick jock nut all over the mirror like an erupting volcano. Shooting more cum than he ever had in his life while giving the reflective glass a sticky coating of delicious man milk.

- Mental Transfer… 98%… Error Error… -

The pop up screen on his phone began to flash with a warning as the meter seemed to get stuck on 98%.. The Error message continued to flash for a few seconds before the screen changed again, jumping directly to a new screen without having shown the 100% at all.

- Congratulations! You have assumed the Mental and Physical identity of “Ched Uzor”! It would seem our work here is complete! Enjoy the rest of your day. -

The strange pop up claimed proudly before disappearing without a trace. The phone returned to Ched’s Instagram, only now it seemed to be logged in as the user of the account.

Back over at the mirror Ched grabbed his head in confusion. That was one of the biggest nuts of his life so he couldn’t figure out for the life of him why he’d done it to his own reflection instead of to a hot babe like usual. But even more importantly where the hell was he? This definitely wasn’t his house and those ripped clothes on the floor certainly didn’t belong to him. He closed his eyes and racked his brain for a moment, trying to figure everything out until it finally hit him. He was on vacation to America right now and he’d hired this dude to look after his place back in the UK. The dude’s name was Nat if he remembered correctly. He took a breather as things finally started to fall into place.

And so, with his cock turning flaccid once again, Ched grabbed some tissues and started to clean up the huge mess he’d made. After all, the people he was renting this place from wouldn’t be happy if he left their mirror with a huge cumstain on it. Once that was done he’d better find himself some clothes to put on so he can enjoy the rest of his evening and take plenty of pics for his Instagram. He knew how thirsty some of his followers were and they were always eager to get another glimpse at his incredible body. Not that he could blame them.

———

- 4 Months Later -

Ched had long since returned home to the UK. That Nat guy had done a good job looking after his house while he was gone, the place looked spotless! Though he could swear there was something eerily familiar about Nat that he just couldn’t place. He couldn’t really put it into words. It was almost like nagging in the back of your mind when you’ve forgotten something but can’t remember what. Regardless he thanked the smaller man before giving him the second half of his payment and sending him on his way.

Since then things had been normal for the most part. Making inspirational posts on Instagram about exercising and getting into shape as well as just having an excuse to show off a bit. Naturally he spent plenty of time in the gym as always and was hard at work coaching his online clients as a personal trainer. But there were a couple weird things he’d noticed recently…

For example he still hadn’t gotten over this weird fascination with his own body he’d developed lately. Every time he looked at his reflection he found his cock chubbing up for some reason and he had no idea why. Plus the amount of times he would end up groping his own muscles while jerking off. He’d never done that before but now he couldn’t help it. But don’t get him wrong though, Ched isn’t gay. He’s been hooking up with plenty of women as of late and had no problem getting it up when they pull their tits out for him. If anything he’d say he’s been fucking more pussy recently than usual. Getting into bed with hot chicks left and right to fuck their bimbo brains out… but that could be partially due to him compensating for another new desire.

You see along with his self infatuation, over these past few months Ched had also caught himself glancing at other men. Not just in an admiring kind of way either. Like he was properly eyeing them up. His gaze was constantly being drawn to their asses and bulges. It was madness! He’d never been into dudes before so why were these feelings suddenly surfacing now!?

Recently there’d been this new guy at the gym that’d he’d been speaking to. Brandon was his name. Massive dude, about the same size as Ched himself. And just like with many other guys, Ched hadn’t been able to stop himself from checking out Brandon’s huge body. Only difference being that he could swear he caught Brandon checking him out as well…

Surely he couldn’t be gay because he did genuinely love women as well. So maybe he was Bi? If that was the case, how he managed to go all these years and not realise until now was beyond him. Well perhaps if this Brandon dude really was interested he could give it a go and ask him out or hook up maybe?… see what happens?

Little did Ched know that this was actually due to the error during his Mental Transfer. It seemed a tiny percentage of Nat remained inside him and vice versa for the new Nat as well. It was that tiny part of himself that was obsessed with his body and the part that still had an interest in men. But of course he’d never know that because as far he knows, Nat is just the guy that looked after his house for a couple weeks. He of course was the hunky Instagram model and online coach Ched Uzor! Only now he was a little gayer than before. And you know what? He was okay with that.

[leo-muscle]

Kings of the World: Europe's Protector

Dominic, for the most part, was what the gay community would consider average. He had some mass to him, though not much, and his junk was fairly average. He had light body hair and a short beard, though not enough to be considered an otter. Almost no one swiped him on any dating app, which did leave him feeling dejected. He was a top, though all of his few matches pegged him as a submissive bottom. Though, someday, he hoped that he would gain the strength he desired.

Alone in his apartment, Dominic was doomscrolling through Instagram, crying over pictures of happy men in love. It had been so long since his last hookup, let alone his last boyfriend, that he had become incredibly touch-starved. London's pool of gay men had been incredibly unkind to him.

KLUNK.

A single notification rang from Dominic's phone. A match! Dominic dove to his phone, and couldn't believe his eyes. An absolute stud of a man had decided to give Dominic his approval. His pecs and ass were perky and voluptuous, his dark skin accented his enormous muscles perfectly, and judging by his bulge, he was more hung than every other man Dominic had seen, combined. The crystal crown on his head, while a little tacky, only added to his allure. According to his profile, he was "King Leon."

That sure is a King of a man, all right. Dominic thought.

Soon, they began to chat.

King_Leon: Hey. I think you might have exactly what I'm looking for. Meet me at my place?

DomDom74: Absolutely! I'm on my way!

Dominic dashed to his car, and drove as fast as he could over to where King Leon said his address was. It was a tall apartment building, with an impressive view over Buckingham Palace.

King_Leon: Head to the Penthouse. I'll be waiting ;)

Not only is he immeasureably hot, but he's also rich? Dominic thought. This could not be going better.

Dominic sauntered up to the elevator, and hit the button for the Penthouse suite.

"Dom?" King Leon's Nigerian accent entered Dominic's ears like butter from the intercom. It was smoky and rhythmic, with a deep, rich melody that caused Dominic's cock to instantly harden.

"Y-yes?" Dominic stammered. He was already flustered, and he hadn't even met the man yet.

"I'm glad to see you could make it. I'll let you on up now." King Leon said.

Soon, the elevator opened into a lavish Penthouse suite, each room the size of Dominic's entire apartment. Relics and statues from every corner of the globe accented the space, though most were from Africa, where King Leon's throne resided.

King Leon himself was standing in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but a small towel. He was even hotter in person. His muscles, divine, his skin, glistening, his ass, superb, his incredible height and his enormous cock visible even through the towel.

"Dominic, it is so good to have you here." King Leon rumbled, his voice flowing over Dominic like a river, wearing down his inhibitions.

"S-same." Dominic stuttered. "You have to be the most beautiful man I have ever seen."

King Leon laughed. "Soon, you will be just as beautiful as I."

"What do you mean?" Dominic said.

King Leon smiled, and let the towel drop as he turned around, revealing his luscious, bouncy muscle ass.

"Why don't you come find out?" King Leon teased.

Salivating, Dominic ripped off his pants, and stuck his throbbing member into King Leon's hole. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt: King Leon's perfect ass seemed to be vibrating and massaging every square millimeter of his dick, creating pleasure unlike anything he had ever felt. Dominic's eyes rolled back into his skull as he lost himself in the pleasure, firing orgasm after orgasm into King Leon's ass, each one longer than the last. A gold fluid began to leak from King Leon's hole as the most orgasmic experience of Dominic's life finally came to a close.

As he removed his pulsing member from the King's hole, Dominic almost screamed. His cock was... different.

It had swollen up like a balloon, until it matched King Leon's size, inch for inch, a full foot in length and as thick as a beer bottle. His balls had turned into massive grapefruits swinging between his legs, churning with his own kingly fluids. Most surprising of all, his cock was pale, with a red tip, surrounded by a fiery orange bush. No longer was it a brown twig, but a mighty birchwood weapon, capable of slaying any ass.

"Wha... what?" Dominic asked.

"A king needs a weapon, does he not?" King Leon said.

"How? Why? Why did you change me?"

"I saw greatness in you, Dominic. You could be the protector of this whole continent, if you wished. A king, a warrior, a protector... the most powerful Dom in this land."

Dominic considered this. Power, prestige, strength... The choice was obvious.

"I'll do it. Where do I start?" Dominic answered.

"Only a moment of submission, for a lifetime of lordship. Impale yourself upon my sword, and drink of my fluids." King Leon said, his voice having a playful air to it.

King Leon sat down upon a wide loveseat, his enormous Black horsecock reaching far past his abs. His pecs throbbed, and his nipples called to Dominic, just begging to be sucked.

Trancelike, Dominic walked over to King Leon, and lowered himself onto his cock.

It was like paradise: There was no blockage, no pain, just pure pleasure His cock filled up Dominic perfectly, despite its egregious size. Dominic's mouth latched onto King Leon's perfect dark nipple as the King began to slowly thrust.

Soon, the King's fluids took effect. As King Leon pumped load after load of kingly fluid into Dominic, his muscles expanded. His biceps, wrapped around one of King Leon's enormous arms, suddenly blew up to match the guns they worshipped. His hands, once small and insignificant, became enormous mitts, digging and massaging King Leon's equally huge arms. His back and lats wrenched themselves apart, creating a sea of perfect ridges. His abs repeatedly clenched and unclenched, growing stronger each time, until the eight blocks that made up his core were as solid as stone. His legs, once skinny, became almighty pillars of strength as they expanded to well over the size of tree trunks. His feet did the same, becoming bigger and wider, to support the royal mass they carried.

The more fluid Leon pumped, the lighter Dominic's skin became, until it settled on a lightly-tanned cream color. His hair became a fiery red, his beard changing to match. His brow narrowed, and his jaw became square. His voice deepened, and took on an Irish accent as he started gyrating his ass to properly milk King Leon's dick.

"Yeh, you like that, don't you?" Dom said, in between chugs from King Leon's chest.

"Oh, I do... Daddy." King Leon said with a smirk. While he normally preferred to be the dominant one, for his fellow King, he would make a rare exception.

"My arse is going to milk your cock like you wouldn't believe." Dom said. With each slam of his ass on King Leon's mammoth dick, it bounced and expanded just a little more, until it became an enormous Irish booty, leaking an emerald fluid, which mixed with King Leon's golden fluid perfectly.

"Now, I want you to suck my pecs like your life depends on it." Dom ordered.

"Anything for you, Daddy." King Leon placed his soft, supple lips on Dom's left nipple, as Dom moaned with pleasure. His chest began to puff up, going from muscular, to voluptouous, to absolutely obscene. His massive muscle tits were just as large as King Leon's!

Soon, Dom wrapped his arms around King Leon, and tried to wrestle him to the floor. King Leon obliged, and pulled Dom close, pressing their sensitive muscle tits together, releasing a moan from both behemoths. Dom continued to grow in height until he matched King Leon while they rolled on top of each other, each man fighting for dominance. Dom pressed his face firmly against King Leon's, locking him in a passionate kiss. They wrestled and fought and loved for hours, until the pleasure finally became too much for the both of them, and they came from all orifices at once. King Dom's transformation had completed.

Both Kings laid there, exhausted. Soon, there would be more of them, and they could lead the world into a brighter age

[hypnotransform]

Swept up, dropping down (I actually posted this in 2016, but always found the text smushed and difficult to read. This is a new version that's hopefully better)

[theradicalscrivener]

The Book of Morgan: Arbiter of Thicc

Just in time for Spoopy Month, I bring you a new character and a new series. I have at least 1 more fic in this series to share this month, and maybe another depending on time. Each of these stories focuses around a theme I haven't experimented with as much in the past. It's a bit of an excuse to have a little bit of fun with the unusual.

Ian and Sean can't seem to agree on what "thicc" is. Maybe it's time someone helped put their debate to rest...

[Next Chapter]

                “Ok. Ok. Check this dude out. Now this is thicc!” Ian said. He leaned across the cafeteria table and held out his phone so his friends could look.

                Sean didn’t even need to look to know what Ian’s type was, but he humored his friend anyway. Sure enough, the dude in the pic was dangerously close to malnourished.

“Cindy, this is bones,” Sean said flatly.

                “What!? No way! Check out that vicious V!” Ian protested.

                “That’s not a V! Those are his hips bones!” Sean countered.

                Morgan chuckled at the two’s antics, but didn’t chime in to the conversation. The two guys barely even noticed he was there most of the time, but then again, they didn’t notice most things…

                “Why ya gotta be so down on my dudes!” Ian whined.

                “I don’t mind your dudes. I just wish you’d stop trying to pretend they have any meat on their bones!” Sean protested.

                “And you’re the arbiter of all things thicc,” Ian said sarcastically. He even dramatically rolled his eyes for extra emphasis.

                “More than you, anyway! You wouldn’t know thicc if it slapped you in the ass!” Sean countered.

                “Huh…” Morgan said to himself. Their banter gave him a fun idea…

                “What!?” the two embattled bros said in unison. Their eyes now focused intently on their quiet friend.

                “Oh. It’s nothing. I just had an interesting thought… but I think it’s best I leave you to your fun,” Morgan replied.

                With that, Morgan got up from his seat and strode towards the exit. Sean and Ian could only sit there and watch him leave with a mix of confusion and amusement. Morgan tended to be a bit cryptic. He would enter and leave a conversation whenever he wanted, but he was definitely the kind of guy that Sean and Ian loved to watch leave. Morgan was almost as skinny as the guys Ian was ogling in his photos, but Morgan had some curves to him, and his cute bubbly butt was framed nicely by his tight little shorts. As he strode off towards parts unknown, the two guys sat back and marveled at Morgan’s cute backside.

                “I don’t know what you said, but you are so getting hexed,” Ian joked.

                “Oh, please. He’s not actually a witch. That’s just a silly rumor,” Sean replied.

                “Well, he certainly doesn’t try to beat the allegations,” Ian said. He pantomimed touching a wide brim of a hat in refence to the conical hat that Morgan typically wore.

                “He’s committed to the bit,” Sean replied with a shrug.

                Morgan was a bit of an odd one. He was quiet but friendly. Sean and Ian couldn’t even recall how they had first met the guy. Morgan had just started hanging around them. He was like a stray cat that decided to adopt a pair of humans, and on the subject of cats, there seemed to be a small army of feral felines that followed Morgan around. He always seemed to have a cat either on his lap or at his heels, and it was rarely the same one. The critters just seemed to gravitate towards him which didn’t help him beat the witch allegations.

                There was a moment of silence as the two friends tried to get their minds back on track. Morgan’s abrupt exit had derailed their debate, but now that the heat had dissipated, neither one was particularly interested in picking up where they left off. Eventually, Ian broke the silence.

                “Fuuuuck… I don’t want to go to class,” Ian grumbled. 

                “Then don’t,” Sean said dismissively.

                “You know I can’t do that! I’ve missed so many that if I miss any more, I’m gonna get docked a letter grade!” Ian protested.

                “Sucks to suck,” Sean replied. He scooped the few bits of trash onto his tray and got up to throw his stuff away.

                “I’ll show show you sucking!” Ian countered a bit louder than he meant to. His outburst got a few people from nearby tables to glance their way. Ian hunched down in his seat and made himself as small as possible to try and avoid their gazes. Fortunately, most people didn’t care enough about his outburst to focus on him. Their attentions quickly went back to their own conversations.

                As Ian sat there in silence, he glanced over at his friend who was now walking across the cafeteria. Something looked off, but Ian couldn’t put his finger on it. Sean looked about the same as he always did. He wore a basic t-shirt and some shorts, but his shorts seemed to grip his thighs more than Ian expected. It must be a new pair or something. Either that, or Ian had never bothered to look as closely before. Whatever the case, it was a good look on him. Sean’s shorts now gripped his thighs making Sean’s typically average build look a bit curvier than Ian was used to.

                Sean dumped his trash in the can and then glanced back at his friend who was still sitting at the table. “You gonna come to class, or are you just gonna sit there staring at my ass?” Sean teased.

                “I wasn’t looking at your ass!” Ian protested. Once again, his outburst was louder than intended causing a few nearby parties to glance his way. Once more, Ian hunched down and tried to hide from their gazes.

                Once the peanut gallery had once more lost interest, Ian scooped up his trash and got up to follow Sean, but as he did so, he realized something strange – his shorts felt tight.

                Ian scratched his head. He wore these often, didn’t he? If anything, these were typically loose on him. The soft fabric was designed to stretch, but he had never needed them to. Today, however, they seemed to grip his ass and thighs. They even seemed to accentuate the bulge of his cock and balls making those seem bigger than he recalled.

                Ian dumped his trash and hurried after his friend. By this point, Sean had a commanding lead on him. Ian jogged to catch up, and as he did so, he was keenly aware of the jiggling in his pants. His cheeks seemed to bob with each step, and his heavy bait and tackle swayed with each step.

                Ian’s body felt weird, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It felt heavier somehow… He didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, though. A familiar chime rang out through the courtyard. That was the bell! He only had five minutes to jog across campus! How much time had he wasted during lunch!

                Sean perked up upon hearing the chime and looked back over his shoulder. Ian had almost caught up to him… almost.

                “Race you to class!” Sean called back over his shoulder.

                “You-! Fucker!” Ian sputtered as he watched his pal break into a sprint. Sean had a head start! There’s no way that was fair!

                Ian followed suit and broke into a sprint as well. His eyes were transfixed on his friend as he struggled to gain ground, but even as Ian forced himself to run, his eyes kept drifting towards Sean’s lower body. Sean’s ass wiggled with each step. Had his butt always been so big? So round? So supple? Ian couldn’t recall, but as his eyes lingered on his buddy’s jiggling caboose, his own cock began to stir to life in his over-stuffed shorts.

                “Shit… I can’t pop wood here…” Ian muttered under his breath. He glanced down at himself and checked out his bulge. His semi was painfully obvious. His huge, chubbed up cock was almost as thick as his wrist and his two massive, plum-sized stones were looking positively obscene in his shorts. His shorts were stretched so taut that they were basically a second skin. The outline of his huge cock and fat nuts were so clear that he may as well not be wearing anything at all!

                Ian felt a little light-headed for a second. Since when was he that hung!? Like, he had a solid foot of fat cock when fully hard. He knew this, and yet, it didn’t seem true! It hadn’t been that big this morning… had it? But it had always been that huge.

                Ian could hear his shorts begin to strain. The stitching around his thick thighs were stretched to their breaking point. Why did he think these shorts would be a good idea! Sure, they accentuated his figure, but they were too small! His friends always teased him about his fat ass and huge cock. He should be wearing something more modest, not drawing more attention to it! It’s almost like he wanted to cause a scene!

                Ian shook the notion from his mind and focused his energy on catching up to Sean. During his moment of introspection, Sean had managed to gain even more ground. Ian was already sprinting, but he needed to push himself even harder to catch up. He needed to full on haul ass! And he had A Lot of ass to haul! He could feel his cheeks jiggling with each step.

                Ian was gasping for breath as he rounded the corner and made his way up the stairs towards the building that his class was in. His muscles ached, but he refused to show it. He needed to keep pushing. Even though sweat was pouring down his body which just made his clothes feel even tighter on his frame.

                The stairs leading to the building was the easy part. There were even more stairs once he got inside! He had to get to the third floor, and he just knew he didn’t have time to take the elevator. It didn’t help that Sean still had a commanding lead.

                Ian couldn’t help it. His gaze kept drifting towards Sean’s body. Sean looked so hot. How had he never noticed it before? Sean was definitely his type. A cute, slender build with an impressively fat ass. His lower half looked almost twice as wide as his torso! Sean’s shorts weren’t doing him any favors though… if only he would just hurry up and lose them… the stitches on Sean’s shorts were struggling even harder than Ian’s own. Ian’s shorts were soft and stretchy. They were designed to not only house but to flaunt his curves! Sean’s shorts were stiff khaki. The oversized pockets detracted from the shape of his curvy thighs!

                Still… that was a debate for another day. Ian had almost caught up to his pal. The two of them staggered up the last set of stairs and stumbled before hunching over to catch their breath.

                “I… totally beat you…” Sean gasped between breaths.

                “You… cheated…” Ian countered.

                The two spent a moment to catch their breath. They had made it across campus so fast that they went from being in danger of being late to having a few minutes to spare! They needed it, though. They were both winded and soaked with sweat.

                “I’m drenched…” Sean grumbled.

                “This was your idea…” Ian replied.

                They took another beat to catch their breath a bit more before their bitching resumed.

“This shirt is going to feel gross for the entire class,” Ian grumbled.

                “Then take it off,” Sean replied.

                “Wh- …” Ian began. What? Why? The questions swirled in his head. There wouldn’t be any problem with taking off their shirts. Even bare, their upper bodies were far less lewd than their lower halves. Their shorts did not leave anything to the imagination. They both had huge, shapely assed and thick thighs, but their hips and booties were just the tip of the iceberg. Their cocks and balls were massive!

                Ian’s shorts strained across his huge cock and balls. Each of his orbs were now closing in on the size of soccer balls. His cock was as thick as his neck. When not contained in his shorts, the beast dangled down to his shins. His cock and balls were so huge and so heavy that they weighed down his shorts to the point that the waistband now rode low on his hips leaving half his ass and the base of his fat cock exposed for all to see, and Sean was in an even worse state.

                Sean’s shorts had burst down the sides during their sprint. It was only thanks to his belt that they stayed on at all. His shorts now looked like a khaki-colored loin cloth. His huge, thick cock now lolled out his left pant leg, and his heavy nuts hung out the other.

                “Fuck it. These hurt too much,” Sean grumbled. He quickly undid his belt and ripped the tattered remnants of his shorts from his body leaving him bare-assed naked from ankles to navel.

                Ian took a moment to soak in Sean’s mostly nude form. His thick, shapely thighs highlighted his fat cock and enormous nuts. Either enormous orb was almost as huge as one of his big, bubbly butt cheeks. His sack was every bit as large and as round as his peach of a posterior.

                Sean chuckled upon seeing his friend’s expression. “Come on. It’s not like this is the first time you’re seeing it,” he teased as he pulled his shirt off, leaving him clad in nothing but his keds.

                “Right… Yeah…” Ian murmured as he soaked in his friend’s nude form some more. Was Sean always this cute? Ian couldn’t recall. It felt new, but his memories were always of Sean looking this good. His lean, toned chest and flat tummy atop a set of wide hips and a huge ass with a monster dong to boot!

                Ian awkwardly peeled his shirt off as he watched his pal stride nude into class. Ian grumbled under his breath. Why did he even bother wearing shorts? No one batted an eye when Sean strode around nude, and Ian was even bigger below the belt than Sean was! It sounded like arbitrary rules to him… Still, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hang brain just yet…

                The stitching on the thighs of Ian’s shorts popped even further. There were now large swathes of skin showing on the sides of his legs where the two halves of his shorts had pulled apart. It was a miracle that it held together at all! And yet, it didn’t seem long for this world.

                “About time. We were waiting for you,” the professor said as Ian stepped into class. He didn’t seem to mind that indecent state that Ian was in. If anything, he was a little annoyed that Ian had stood in the doorway for so long before coming in.

                The professor nodded towards one of the students and gestured for them to come forward. “Sean. Up here” he said.

                Ian began to make his way towards his seat, but before he could make it more than two steps the professor gestured for him to stay. “You stay up here, too,” the professor said.

                Ian balked. He gave the professor an incredulous look, but didn’t feel like arguing. He followed instructions and took his position beside Sean at the front of the class.

                Ian suddenly felt very exposed. His clothes were hanging on by literal threads. His colossal cock and balls were starting to spill out of his shorts. His dick was so massive that only the head of it was still in the shorts. The rest of it snaked out above his waistband and folded back in on itself like a shrink-wrapped pack of kielbasa.           

                As Ian stood there and stared out among his classmates, he caught sight of one figure in the back row that made him do a double take. Morgan looked up from his large, leather-bound tome and gave a playful wave. Was he always in this class with them? Ian couldn’t recall, but he felt like he shouldn’t be surprised to see Morgan there.

                Morgan flashed a playful smirk and gave a quick flick of his wrist. Ian instantly felt a surge through his body. The waistband of his shorts finally gave up the ghost and his huge, fat cock and balls spilled forth. His nuts hit the ground with a heavy thud. It almost hurt! It was a good thing that his nuts were so huge, otherwise hitting the floor like that may have made his gut cramp up.

                Ian felt light-headed. What was with that thought? Was he surprised that his balls were so big? They had been this large for ages. His cock, which now draped over his nuts so far that this tip rested on the floor at his feet, was also something he had had to deal with for ages. His cock and ass were so massive, that he had given up clothes ages ago. Everyone just sort of accepted it as normal. Some part of him realized that that was bizarre, but no one in class even batted an eye.

                “Ok, students. We have a special lecture today,” the professor began.

                Ian glanced over his shoulder and noticed the name of the class. Human Biology 202 – H. When he had signed up, he had thought that the H at the end was silly. Human Biology – Human? How redundant. How had he gotten it wrong? He was one of the hypers that this class focused on!

                “How did you talk me into this!” Ian hissed to his pal.

                Sean shrugged and smirked. “You know how Carlos took Spanish for a free A? It’s the same thing,” he explained.

                Ian was about to think up a retort, but before he could, the professor began his lecture. “Before us, stands two specimens of hypertrophia. An uncommon, but not unheard of medical condition. Many scientists have studied people like these to determine what it is that makes them susceptible to transformations such as this post-puberty,” the professor droned. Leave it up to an academic to make something like this sound boring.

                Ian tried to search his memories. He couldn’t remember when he had gone through his growth spurt. He had been like this at least as long as he had been in college, but that was the best he could figure.

                “I shouldn’t have to reintroduce your classmates this late in the semester, but just in case, let me do so now. To my left is Sean. You may notice that, while he is much smaller than our other subject, Ian, Sean’s penis is much too large for use in traditional intercourse,” the professor droned on.

                There were some murmurs from the class. Ian could make out bits and pieces.

                “I wish mine was that big…”

                “How can he even use it…”

                “Wouldn’t he pass out when it gets hard?”

                After the murmurs died down, the professor spoke up again. “Fortunately, nature always finds a way,” he said and gestured towards Ian.

                Sean’s cock was huge. It dangled down to his ankles, but it was maybe half the size of Ian’s own. Ian’s cock was almost as long as he was tall, and it wasn’t even hard… yet.

                “As we have discussed in previous sections, men who experience these changes tend to have much wider hips than average. This adaptation is not just for show. In fact, they can stretch even wider to take handle insertions much wider than they are. Ian here has a penis that is much too large for use. Men like him are designated the “bottom” in colloquial terms,” the professor explained.

                Ian balked at this. Was that true? It had to be. The professor was saying it, and Ian knew for a fact this lecture was all scientifically sound. Still, it sounded unreal that he could handle a cock as large as Sean’s… even if he wanted it, and he really, Really wanted it!

                Ian’s massive cock stirred to life at the mere thought of getting reamed. His head felt fuzzy. His nuts felt heavy. His ass practically begged to be bred.

                Ian snapped to attention as he felt a hand slap against his massive, jiggly ass cheek. He looked over to see Sean standing beside him with a lecherous grin on his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll treat you right,” Sean teased.

                “Very well. It looks like both participants are ready for today’s demonstration,” the professor said.

                Ian had forgotten! How had he forgotten!? It was so rare to find a matched pair like them that the dean had approached them to do a demonstration! Sean was right. This was an easy A, but more than that. Ian had wanted to feel Sean’s cock inside him for ages, and this was the perfect excuse.

                Sean sidled up behind Ian and pressed his huge, fat cockhead against Ian’s quivering hole. As the huge rod slid into him, Ian stared down in awe at his own gut as it bulged outwards. Ian rubbed his hands across his bulging belly. It was hard to believe that his friend’s cock was so deep into him, and yet, his body had adjusted to accept it. This didn’t seem possible, but it felt right! Ian was so turned on that he nearly came right then and there, his massive, battering ram of a cock was rock hard in record time and shuddering in anticipation. Pre oozed from the tip of his dick, and with each expectant lurch, a spray of clear, viscous liquid was sent arcing through the air.

                Ian watched as the bulge receded. There was a split second where he felt empty inside, but before he could protest, Sean’s thick cock rammed back into him. This time, Sean thrusted deeper, causing his thick thighs to slap against Ian’s huge, pillowy but cheeks and his huge, heavy nuts to slap against Ian’s calves.

                Sean thrusted again and again. Each thrust resulted in a reverberate slap as his thighs slapped against Ian’s jiggling butt cheeks. Ian had to brace himself atop his own nuts to keep from falling over.

                Had his nuts always been so huge? He couldn’t remember, but he was glad that they were. It seemed right. They served to give him something to brace against as Sean jackhammered his ass with his own huge cock.

                Ian literally had a body built for taking cock. Not only could his gut and hole stretch to take something as huge as Sean’s impressive piece, but it felt fantastic to boot! It was as if every inch of him, body and soul, existed for the soul purpose of being bred.

                Ian couldn’t focus. His doubts and his questions faded. His eyes rolled back, and he surrendered himself to bliss. He moaned in ecstasy as his gut bulged out with each thrust of his friend’s huge cock. Ian’s own massive meat bucked and lurched in time with Sean’s thrusts, further spraying the room with pre.

                Ian’s gut began to swell. At first, he thought it was just Sean plunging his cock in, but it quickly became apparent that something else was at play. His gut didn’t fully deflate as Sean pulled back. If anything, Ian’s tummy seemed to be filling with fluid.

                Had Sean cum!? No. Clearly not. Had he done so, there would be so much more. This had to just be pre!

                Ian hugged his swelling belly. It felt so warm and so firm, like a water balloon full of hot milk. He wanted more. He needed more. Without even meaning to, Ian cried out, “More!”

                Sean smirked and chuckled. He redoubled his effort, he continued to pound his friend’s incredibly huge ass with his own prodigious rod. With each thrust, more pre flooded into Ian’s gut, but soon Sean was reaching his limit.

                “I’m gonna…” Sean moaned.

                “Don’t stop!” Ian cried.

                “I wasn’t… gonna…” Sean moaned between thrusts.

                Sean dug his heals in and rammed his cock in deep for one last plunge. He let out of a cry of bliss which was echoed by Ian as the two came in unison. Massive, thick, spurts of cum arced from Ian’s enormous cock. The spray hit the windows on the far side of the room and splattered down on the audience, coating the onlookers with spunk… all except for one, anyway.

                As the duo continued to cum and cum again, Ian’s gut grew bigger and bigger. Soon, his belly was the size of a yoga ball, and still it kept growing. Soon, his gut was even larger than his massive set of stones that he was currently propped up on! His belly was soon so large that Ian could no longer wrap his arms around it. He could no longer hug it. All he could do was lie face down atop it and nuzzle his face into the swelling mass. It felt so good! Why did it feel so good? How did it feel so good!? This shouldn’t be physically possible, and yet…

                Sean let out a sigh and staggered backwards. His steadily deflating rod pulled out of Ian’s stretched out ass with an audible plop. Jizz seeped out of Ian’s wrecked hole, and yet, despite the leakage, Ian’s gut didn’t seem to be deflating.

                “You better not of gotten me pregnant…” Ian murmured playfully.

                It was meant to be a joke, but no sooner were the words out of his mouth, than he felt a strange feeling in his head. Was it possible? He didn’t know anymore, but he was in no position to ask. Fortunately, Sean was.

                “Is that possible?” Sean asked the professor, but the professor couldn’t answer.

                As Ian lay atop his own massive nuts and swollen gut, his gaze fell upon Morgan. The guy didn’t have a drop of jizz on him despite being in the back of the room where the majority of the splash had rained down. As Ian locked eyes with Morgan, he heard Sean ask the question once more.

                “Is it possible?” Sean asked.

                Morgan shrugged and gave an iffy hand wiggle.

                There was a voice in the back of Ian’s mind. Was it Morgan? It didn’t quite sound like him. It sounded more like that inner voice that Ian had. The voice he read books in. The voice that was his but not. Maybe Morgan had done something. Maybe Morgan had gotten the ball rolling, but everything since entering the classroom had been Ian’s own doing.

                How was that possible? Had Ian changed reality? That shouldn’t be possible, but he also shouldn’t be able to take a cock the size of a punching bag, and yet here he was.

                Ian couldn’t think that hard. He could barely focus on anything other than how good he felt. The afterglow was overpowering. He just wanted to lie there and bask in the blissful feelings in his gut and ass and cock and balls. As he hovered between consciousness and a blissed-out haze, he was vaguely aware of Morgan striding up to him.

                Morgan tipped his hat back so that Ian could see the huge, playful grin on his face. “Wow. You’ve really got a knack for this. I never would have thought you’d have such a dirty mind,” he said before turning and making his way towards the exit. Morgan hugged his huge, heavy tome to his chest and hummed a happy tune as his boots splashed down in the standing pool of spunk with each skip.

[Next Chapter]

[growth-opportunities]

"Fuck... Fuck... FUCK!"

I staggered out of the club, cool air rushing around me, music still booming in the background. The hope was that the air on the water would be cool and rejuvenating, but I couldn't get any of it into my lungs. Sounds of creaking denim filled the air as my outfit tried to hold back my burgeoning curves. It clung to my widening hips, my thickening thighs. The buttons of my tube top failed one by one, only staying closed by the grace of my narrow waist. My breasts had been perfect handfuls, the perfect size for my frame, but now they bulged obscenely from the top, more tit spilling out of my top than I used to have altogether. Every tug on the unforgiving fabric sent ripples and wobbles through my curves, threatening to completely bounce out.

When the growth pills I found online said not to take with alcohol, I thought they meant it would make me sleepy or something. Now, as I watch my tits grow beneath my chin and my ass split the seams on my jeans, I realize that it apparently makes it more effective. And while outgrowing my clothes in the middle of the club isn't ideal... In the comfort of my own home might not be so bad.

[bodybeyondstories]

Just ignore it - 5

The gang takes a field trip to the Marshlands to study the artifact that Blake brought in. As they get closer, David loses even more control over his reality warping imagination, and things get weird. Then they get weirder.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 (Previous) | 6 (Next)

MaleTF // Ass Expansion // Dick Growth // Growth // Macro // Suggestion // nsfw

5573 words

Author note: I was reflecting on how this series was originally supposed to end with part 2, but then @alias-miniature shared some words of encouragement and here we are. I think I wrote the climax of this chapter while I was still playing around with part 3, I've just been spending months finding excuses to wax poetic about some wobbly spacetime nonsense lol.

-----

“Ooo are we taking the Mystery Machine?” I asked, voice echoing off the concrete pillars of the parking garage.

“We really don’t need to call it that,” said Armand. He pushed a utility cart laden with equipment as he led our group towards a row of old vehicles that the Center for Supernatural Sciences had acquired used, offhand, or through some nefarious means over the years, the most recent of which being a blue and green SUV well suited for group field trips off the beaten path. The obvious nickname being to me–and most everyone else in my opinion–the Mystery Machine.

“But we are taking it,” Lee confirmed.

Armand opened the hatchback, revealing a spacious interior already pre-prepped for our little adventure. The entire second row had been removed, as well as all but one seat in the back. Packs of what looked like hiking supplies, snacks, and a cooler were arranged on the floor toward the front, leaving an open space just large enough for our pallet full of magical gizmos. Without thinking, I squatted down and picked it up, sliding it neatly into place.

“What?” I asked, noticing Armand’s stare. “Does it not go there?” I quickly remembered that lifting the entire pallet of whimsical yet heavy duty tools and gadgets like a sack of potatoes was not a normal thing that someone was supposed to be able to do. Even someone with my physique. I’d been having some hiccups in getting used to my new strength, evidenced by the similarly incredulous stares that morning as I was casually outpacing rush hour traffic on my bike to work.

“We’ll fill you in,” said Lee, patting Armand on the shoulder as he strolled past us to lounge in the lone third row seat, elegantly stretching his legs across the extra space. 

Armand sighed in resignation, hopping into the driver's seat as I plopped down into the passenger. “We’re meeting Blake at the site in the Marshlands, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

—

The Mystery Machine headed east along the interstate through the dignified gray hinterlands patiently awaiting a snow fall. Handing Lee the aux cord wasn’t the best idea, but at least he was trying to match the mood of the early winter landscape in between bubble gum pop hits, a welcome respite from Armand’s request for a locally produced, surprisingly dull, occult news podcast that he kept up with for “research.” I fell into the flow of rolling hills and stands of denuded trees, unable to fully drift off due to the magnetic tug coming from the back of the car.

I hadn’t gotten solid details about the artifact that Blake had brought in, and that we were now transporting back to where it came from. Admittedly, I had still been in a haze of post-coital bliss when Lee filled me in on the situation, more interested in the sight of him maneuvering his girthy snake back into his pants than the words that had been coming out of his mouth. But I got the gist.

The artifact had come from the Marshlands, but not from the Marshlands, so to speak. According to Blake, it had been sitting in a perfectly circular clearing on a patch of higher ground, waiting there long enough to become half buried in humus and partially coated in a fuzzy moss.

“Waiting is the important word here,” said Lee. “That’s how Blake mentioned it multiple times. Like it was waiting to be found.”

“But it hadn’t been there long?” I asked, pulling a backup pair of leggings out of a desk drawer after having torn my original pair like tissue paper trying to get them to cooperate with my glutes.

“Relatively speaking, no. We can’t quite pinpoint when it appeared there, but we don’t think it was placed by human hands. The physical and metaphysical signatures point to somewhere other than the Marshlands. Somewhere else. It was causing disturbances in the cleanroom that we hadn’t seen before.”

“Like how the sigils changed color?”

“Yeah. They turned into a lightshow after you left, you should’ve seen it.”

The actual artifact appeared to be some sort of device. A copper colored sphere about the size of a soccer ball, that felt like unglazed clay to the touch and was much heavier than it had any right to be. Patterns of some inscrutable design were inlaid across its surface in flowing lines of gold, teal and lavender that seemed to glow with their own passive light. 

“We took a 3D scan and sent it over to archives to see if they had any reference to decode it,” said Lee. “But Logan said every time he opens the file it looks slightly different on his monitor. His tech can only figure it out partially, but never enough to crack the code. You remember Logan, right?”

“How could I forget,” I said with obvious sarcasm, looking forward to catching up with the archivist who inadvertently started all this mess. 

“He thinks the only way to figure it out is to conduct experiments with it on site. He’s supposed to be out there with Blake, preparing the area. ”

That can’t be good, I thought, but reminded myself that it wasn’t all Logan’s fault. It’s not like he was planning on becoming the conduit for some ancient horny trickster deity, or was even trained to effectively deal with that scenario. This sort of thing was part of my job and even I was slowly crumbling under the pressure of Synt’s unrelenting power. It’s a miracle Logan lasted as long as he did. Sometimes it felt like the boundaries of my corporeal form were becoming thinner and thinner, my perception of mundane reality slowly beginning to fade into Synt’s casually multidimensional experience.

—

As we approached the Marshlands, the barriers between worlds began to blur even further. My senses kept expanding in weird directions in physical space and other space, the passing landscape enlivened with echoes and resonances of nearby timelines bumping up against our own. I could feel the artifact in the back of the Mystery Machine more strongly, but the blunt magnetic tug was slowly resolving into something more nuanced. Like a complex rhythm underneath Lee’s playlist, overlapping patterns of subsonic vibes that manifested in my head as the shifting glow of the lines across the sphere. As the mental image came together in increasing sharpness, the ball opened–not mechanically, but through some sort of phase change, its solid surface shifting into–

The van shuddered to a halt, bringing me back to reality as Armand turned the engine off. We had come off the interstate onto some county road and stopped at a nondescript gas station with no other vehicles in sight. Without the flow of the rolling highway landscape to distract me, I could almost taste how fuzzy reality was out here. There were whorls and eddies of chaotic possibility that were almost as iridescent as the puddles on the ground. Maybe it was something about the geography, maybe I was spending too much time in close proximity to the artifact, maybe the outlines of my form that identified me as a discrete being in this world were being erased from the inside out. Maybe all of the above. Regardless, I tried to tamp down the flutter of worry that sprung up in my stomach, shifting into the conspicuous ‘just act normal’ affect of someone who’s just realized they’ve misjudged an edible.

Armand chatted briefly with the station attendant, who seemed unable to decide if it was less rude to gawk at the anaconda running around Armand’s left hip or the sight of Lee stretching his arms up and towering over the SUV. He relented, keeping his attention pointedly directed at the task of filling up the tank. Armand headed inside to scope out snacks, a slight wobble in his gait as he maneuvered his dick into a more comfortable position, while Lee wandered off a little to admire the scenery and stretch his legs.

Without the distraction of my companions, and unwilling to try and settle back into a nap, I twisted around to rummage through the snack cooler, tossing the dried fruit and trail mix aside to snatch up the family size bag of some obscure brand of cheese puffs. The complex notes coming from the artifact (that seemingly no one else could hear) had settled into background noise, piquing my attention as they became slightly discordant, building in what felt like anticipation. As I angled myself back up, I paused, catching the gaze of the station attendant through the open rear window. He looked awestruck, and with one leg splayed across the driver's seat and my amazonian ass perched in the air, I could figure out why.

“I, uh, sorry,” he said, looking distraught as he forced himself to tear his eyes away from the sight of my supernaturally round butt cheeks. He was adorable as he blushed, still biting into his lower lip.

“It’s cool,” I chuckled. “Cheese puffs?” I opened the bag of bright orange corn products, offering them in his direction.

“I’m good,” he said. “I’m trying to stop eating those. Pretty sure they’re going straight to my hips.”

He had this look on his face like he was surprised he even said that, which just added to how cute his visible embarrassment was. But as the words left his lips, the notes from the artifact began to crescendo ever so slightly, harmonizing with that all too familiar feeling of Synt’s power emerging into this realm, the anticipation building.

Oh, I thought. I see. It almost felt as if this scenario had been written for us, and with the wobbliness of my current perception of linear time, it was a little more clear that it kind of had. The notes had been laid out and all we had to do was hit them. So I already knew what to expect as I said my next line, “Then you must eat these all the time.”

And there it was. His stance shifted slightly as we settled into a timeline in which he had already had a bubble butt juicy enough to see from the front.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a problem,” he said with a nervous laugh, one hand resting on the shelf of his ass while the other moved the gas pump back into place. “Honestly, I was about to ask you for advice. Hard to find pants that fit my…shape, out here in the boonies.”

And it was obvious why. His khakis looked painted on, straining against the melons that ballooned from his lower back. I could practically hear the stitches screaming in terror from the dreaded cheese puffs that had been the downfall of so many of their predecessors, as if sheer proximity to the artificially flavored snack dust in the air risked pushing his bubble butt to a level of catastrophic stress, until–

I caught a glimpse of his cakes seeming to expand, not through the usual flipbook of timelines, but physically in ‘real’ time, growing bigger and rounder before my very eyes. He took notice too, turning his torso just in time to see the seat of his pants completely give way, falling apart as his ass cheeks expanded into open air, clad in only a pair of pink and white striped bikini briefs that barely covered the top of his shelf.

“Ah shit!” he exclaimed, trying and failing to pull the fabric back together over an ass that actually was bigger than it had been thirty seconds ago. “I think I’ve got some backups in my locker. Have a good one!”

“Oh, no problem,” I offered, watching the globes of his butt cheeks swish back and forth as he power walked back inside, mildly apologetic in the knowledge that whatever replacement pants he already had would bear the exact same fate.

That time, it had felt so familiar, yet slightly different. The nuances of Synt’s power were so much clearer out here, like I could taste the full complexity of the flavor profile, but with that, the barriers between their world and this one were much more porous. Or maybe I was just better at reading the cracks, tunnels, and pathways. Out here, it was more apparent that the mental, physical, and metaphysical coordination of vocal speech was just a way to channel short bursts of magic from one side of the divide to the other. And without the usual solidity of the barriers between worlds, maybe the unchecked power of imagination could slip through just as easily.

“That you?” asked Lee, who had apparently strolled back to the van just in time to see the attendant’s comically large ass split his pants wide open, letting his hand grab a handful of cheese puffs as he also indulged in the sight of the attendant’s purposeful stride back to the convenience store.

“Yup,” I muttered. “Be careful with those, I heard they go straight to your hips.” I had been joking, but was also genuinely concerned that I may have inadvertently cast a spell on this exact brand of junk food that was now creating bubble butted men across its distribution range. I made a mental note to look into that right after all the other magical calamities spawning off around me.

—

The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful, encouraged by the fact that Armand had somehow gained control of the aux cord and was dragging us through an audiobook about spectral informatics that he was already half way into. I was still crammed up front, dutifully pretending to be asleep but actually fighting every urge not to phase accidentally out of the car. I shuddered with metaphysical tension, the weight of my cosmic companion eroding away any solid grasp on reality.

Lee, with his boundless patience and grace, humored his lab partner, asking lazy yet helpful questions while he lounged in the back, dinner plate size hands still dwarfed by the firehose bulge that he stroked absentmindedly. He looked like he could stretch to fill the entire length of the Mystery Machine if we wanted to, like he could indulgently take up more space as easily as yawning. The harmonics of the artifact sitting resolutely next to him seemed to resonate with his lithe form, and in my partial consciousness I couldn’t help but imagine his body slipping into semi-liquidity with the notes, stretching slightly with the rhythm but each time not quite returning all the way to where it began. He could really become the embodiment of grace if he wanted. If I wanted. As county roads turned to back roads and we passed the vine covered “Marshlands State Park” sign, the trees in the landscape seemed to stretch up with similar ease, yawning in the breeze. I imagined Lee strolling through the forest, towering over us as he stretched with them.

I could no longer keep up a convincing facade of unconsciousness as the van turned off the small forest road onto a poorly maintained gravel path that led to a patch of dirt currently occupied by a shiny new park ranger truck. Armand pulled up next to it as Lee and I scanned the area for our collaborators, seeing only a path through the trees that led down to an expanse of shallow water.

As I stepped out of the van, the satisfying crack of my back and shoulders preceded an indulgent yawn, breath sparkling in the crisp air as I took in our surroundings. My moment of idyll was interrupted by a surprised grunt as Lee whacked his head against the top of the passenger door, stumbling with a brief moment of uncharacteristic clumsiness. I quickly realized why as he rose to his full height, which was itself a full foot taller than it had been just a few hours before. He looked down at himself in mild confusion, which transitioned to a painful wince as, with a staccato of popping sounds, the threads of his shoes failed and his feet burst through, toes and heels spilling out from both ends.

“C’mon man,” Lee said, realization dawning in my direction. “Those were size nineteen.” His look of annoyance melted into one of mild worry. “You sure you’re holding it together?” he asked, coming in to pat my shoulder but jerking back at a sharp bolt of static shock.

“Just barely,” I said.

“Looks like someone had a growth spurt!” exclaimed Blake, who seemed to emerge out of nowhere as he walked up toward us. 

“Speak for yourself,” Lee muttered, gazing down at him suspiciously. 

Blake, once again, looked noticeably bigger than we had last seen him. His ranger uniform was pushed to the limit, inflated biceps and quads straining his sleeves and shorts. I got the sense that having his shirt unbuttoned down to his nipples wasn’t just an aesthetic choice, but the result of a struggle lost against his massive pecs. His muscle butt ballooned behind him, cheeks bouncing back and forth as he unloaded gear from the truck bed.

“He is getting bigger,” came a voice way too suddenly in our vicinity.

Lee reared back with an overdramatic flourish before finally noticing Logan standing several feet away, practically swimming in a pair of oversized waders.

“How?” I asked. “Because it’s definitely not me,” and shot a defensive glance at Lee.

“I, well–” said Logan.

“Maybe he met super dick,” quipped Armand, looking overly busy organizing equipment, as if to emphasize the fact that the rest of us were just standing around.

“No, I don’t think so, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about–”

“Do you think they’re each other’s type?” Lee asked with a look of genuine interest.

“There have been some developments with–”

“Let’s not get lost in the imaginary meet cute,” I said. “We’re here on magical nonsense business. We’re in the field. We’re setting up equipment. We’re wearing field gear. Logan’s wearing…waders for some reason.”

“...with the…well they’re–”

“The only thing that fits?” offered Armand with uncharacteristic sincerity. I guess as the two local monster dick twinks, they’ve exchanged fashion tips here and there. They looked extremely roomy, yet somehow still distended from the pressure of his prodigious wang, which looked like it had gone through some aftershocks of growth after his fateful visit to my office.

“Well it’s just that we’re taking the–”

“Airboat!” I exclaimed, suddenly noticing the watercraft parked off a short pier just down the hill. “We’re taking an airboat? You drive an airboat?” I asked, with no hint of even trying to cover my surprise.

“I pilot an airboat,” Blake corrected with an upbeat smile, his tree trunk quads swelling with muscle as he walked up toward us. “The wet season keeps lasting longer and longer, so unless you wanna wade over there…”

“That why Logan’s dressed to catch a catfish by hand?” asked Lee.

“Well these are the only gear that fit,” said Logan, as if suddenly remembering he was there.

Ah ha, I thought. “So you’re driving us to that…island.”

“I’m piloting you to the island,” said Blake, not so much to me as to the stand of cypress trees in the distance, his gaze lingering for a few seconds as the rest of us relented and shifted to the task of hauling the gear down to the airboat.

As I unloaded the apparatus from the van, prepared to repeat my feat of strength from that morning, I noticed it was significantly lighter. Still heavy, I imagined, by normal human standards, but easy enough to lug down to the boat with minimal strain, earning me an appreciative whoop and generous slap on the butt from Blake. Did I somehow get stronger or was the artifact behaving in some new, strange way?

The airboat looked like one of the big tourist-carrying models that had apparently been repurposed for the parks service. The residue of the old logo of some defunct swamp tour company still visible around the parks logo and info placed on top. The name, Swamp Hag, remained the same, still legible amid the wear and rust. Most of the rows of seating along the flat bottom hull had been removed in favor of storage space, now filled with all of our stuff, leaving us cozied up in the two rows at the back.

The whine of the engine was quickly outmatched by the roar of the propeller, overbearing even through earplugs, as Blake started us up and began ferrying us to the island in the distance. We cruised over golden brown fields of late season wetland grasses, passing clumps of cattails bursting with fluffy seed heads. I glanced up to see Blake behind and above us in the pilot seat, eyes locked intently ahead towards our destination, left hand nimbly controlling the rudder stick. 

Seated in the middle, I was directly below him and positioned between his meaty quads. He always seemed to be on the verge of bursting out of his pants these days, which wasn’t helped by the massive pipe creeping slowly down his right leg, leaving dark spots of precum and even pulsing with an occasional lurch further and increase in girth. I couldn’t tell if that was just my imagination, but I wasn’t in any position to let my imagination wander, exemplified by the fact that the moon, visible in the daytime sky, seemed to keep switching between stationary object and figure-eight analemma. But with the neverending drone of the propeller, I needed a distraction, and couldn’t help but let Synt’s power slip out just a little, envisioning what might happen if that prodigious bulge–

A piercing, subsonic feedback ran through my skull as I had the distinct feeling of two of the same magnetic poles brought too close together. As the pain subsided, I glanced up again to see Blake smile down, give me a conspiratorial wink, and return to the task at hand. 

I decided to deal with that later as we pulled up to the island and began carrying things through the wall of cypress trees towards the interior. Vegetation was dense, but a winding footpath had been carved in previous visits, aided by the fact that much of the underbrush had died back. The trees seemed to whisper among themselves in some conversation that we weren’t a part of but were fine to listen in on, the low lying sounds of the forest becoming more complex until we stepped into the relative silence of a moss-covered clearing in the middle.

“This is where you found it?” asked Armand, eyes scanning the ground for any clues or disturbances. “It looks…untouched.”

“It’s where it found us,” Blake joked in a tone that wasn’t especially humorous. “And yeah, it just sort of appeared. Right there in the middle.”

Armand and Lee set to work setting up a makeshift cleanroom, moving around the perimeter of the circular clearing to lay down plexiglass panels featuring the familiar protective sigils from the lab. I opened the apparatus to remove the artifact, which practically sang in recognition, complex linework of lavender and gold forming and reforming across its surface. It felt as light as styrofoam as I lifted it and carried it across the space. As we reached the center, it simply stopped moving. In fact, as I let my hands slip away, it simply remained stationary. Just hovered in the air, rotating slowly.

“Now that’s cool,” said Blake, walking up to the artifact. “It wasn’t doing that before.” He lifted a finger and brought it up to the surface, hovering a few centimeters away. The curls, diagrams, and fractals covering the sphere seemed to converge around Blake’s fingertip in a multicolored spiral before sending a visible jolt of electricity across the short distance.

“Are you okay?” asked Logan, walking up behind him, responding to Blake’s quiet yelp.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “It felt…great, actually.” His eyes seemed lost in the patterns of the artifact as it seemed to dematerialize into a loose amalgamation of strings, a facsimile of a solid sphere, singing in complex harmonies, rising in a slow crescendo.

“Are y’all picking this up?” I asked Lee and Armand, who were just getting the monitoring equipment online.

“Picking what up?” asked Lee. 

Before we could answer, a pulse of iridescent energy shot out from the artifact, passing through us and stopping a few feet before the perimeter, forming a dome that resembled a giant soap bubble.

“Oh wow, it worked,” whispered Blake.

“What worked?” I asked, squinting my eyes at him. “What’s happening?”

“It’s a force field, they made a force field,” called Lee, motioning to the layer of shimmering air directly in front of him.

“I did not think that would work,” said Blake.

“Didn’t think what would work?” I asked with increasing suspicion.

“You gotta trust me,” said Blake, hands splayed apologetically yet his eyes showing a touch of overexcitement. “We’ve been talking about your situation and–”

“Situation? Who? You and Logan?”

“And…our cosmic deity mutual friend.”

“You’ve been talking to Synt,” I snapped. How? I thought. “Through Logan?”

“Well, they’re still connected in certain ways. I guess they were always connected or whatever?”

“Of course. Of course,” I drummed against the nook between my eyebrows.

“Synt didn’t tell you?” Blake asked.

“Didn’t tell me what?”

“About completing the ritual. We need to complete the ritual,” he said with growing intensity.

“What ritual?” My tone annoyed and mildly incredulous.

“The one we started with the artifact in your office,” offered Logan, as if explaining an email I ignored. “We opened the portal but we need to let it close behind them.”

“Oh is their presence weakening the fabric of spacetime in a localized area?” asked Armand, tapping nonchalantly on the force field like a thick pane of glass. “I guess that makes sense.”

“A little more concern would be nice. Blake’s getting pretty antsy in here,” I said.

“We’re getting you out, bud! We’re on it,” said Lee, turning to dig around in one of the totes full of equipment while Armand continued to inspect the perimeter.

“I don’t know what sweet nothings Synt has been whispering in your ears,” I said to Blake, “but I promise you they’re just fucking with all of us.”

“No, no, I think it’s about resonance,” said Blake. “We’ve only heard one chord in a cosmic symphony! We just have to let them finish.”

“Finish what–”

I was cut off as everything seemed to shift into some sort of non-space, Blake, Lee, Armand, and Logan no longer visible but the forcefield now hyperreal as a solid structure of what looked like glowing golden wires in hexagonal patterns. There was no longer the soft solidity of the mossy clearing, and the forcefield was revealed as not a dome but a sphere, surrounding me on all sides. I hovered stationary in space, rotating slowly around the smaller sphere of the artifact, which pulsed with harmonics and rhythms within and without the color spectrum, seeming to flow in tandem with the structure surrounding us. 

It absorbed my attention and I had the sinking sensation of falling perpetually towards it, plummeting through strata of timelines, tangling and untangling through interwoven threads of possibilities and fractal perception, catching small glimpses here and there of moments in space time, some that I could recall from memory and some that were wildly unfamiliar. I saw Synt talking with me at the bar and simultaneously with Logan in my class weeks before. I realized that for them, there was no linear time, and the best approximation for someone in my three-dimensional existence was cosmic terror and confusion as I fell through the complex dimensional framework of strings that they were delicately pulling. They had been building to something, I realized. Were always building to something. Are currently building to something that in this thread of spacetime is finally coming together.

I had the sensation of breathing in and zooming out, seeing a birds eye view in unnatural clarity of the wetland clearing, the artifact in the exact center spinning wildly and sending multicolored pulses of light, the surrounding trees murmuring amongst themselves, and beyond that the unseasonal expanse of placid water in a symmetrical ovoid shape that came to a point at both ends. It looked unmistakably like an eye.

With a resounding thud in my mind, I came back to this place in this timeline–or more accurately I had never left and was never there–and noticed Blake standing there wide eyed. I could taste the lust and excitement pouring off of him like a snake flicking the air. He had only gotten tastes here and there of what he could become and he was starving, unapologetically dreaming about ridiculous, indulgent size. Who was I to deny the full extent of what he could be? Why would I have ever held back this power?

I fell to my knees as another wave of Synt’s untapped chaos magic took over my being, reverberating through the space. I was dimly aware of rings of multicolored, iridescent mushrooms rising and falling in concentric waves around us. For a second I lost my physical senses, overwhelmed by Synt’s ability to see seamlessly across planes of existence and temporal strata. As my body struggled to make sense of this metaphysical tsunami, I could see the perspective of every cell ringing out simultaneously. I could see every possibility in every timeline. It was beautiful and terrible, threads waving, trailing, breaking, weaving into each other with chaos and grace. In this other sense, I felt the cleansing surge of a deluge following a dam break as my guard finally went down and Synt stepped fully into my being in this world. I had been holding them back for so long, letting go was a welcome relief.

I heard the strangely familiar sound of a string being plucked. 

Blake, ever the gentleman, snapped out of his enraptured fascination to try and help me up, jumping back as a visible bolt of electricity shot into his hand from my left bicep. I was an energetic livewire, and Blake’s eyes widened further in glee as he watched the muscles throughout his arm flex with a sickening pump, settling down as a wave of subtle growth spread throughout the rest of his body. Maybe this was due to my supercharged supernatural senses, but I noticed that his musculature was incredibly, unnaturally dense. He must’ve been somehow stronger than even the veritable wall of shredded muscle implied.

Still feeling his juicier pecs, he mused to the others, “that was just one touch. Imagine what you could do,” he added, turning to me.

“Yes,” I grunted through gritted teeth. “Imagine.” I grabbed his arm with lightning fast quickness. In fact, I don’t even remember moving my body at all. My hand was simply wrapped around his bicep because I willed it with a thought.

His head lolled back in euphoria as I poured into him. He was a willing participant, an enthusiastic receptacle of possibility powered by a vivid imagination of what his body could be and do. A deep, hungry wish that I happily granted. And then some. As he came back to his senses, his eyes took in a seemingly smaller space, his head inching farther from the ground as his massive feet took up more and more surface area. A look of worry replaced one of triumph as he realized how much he dwarfed even Lee’s eight and a half feet on the other side of the dome, with no signs of stopping. 

“Wait,” he groaned through waves of orgasmic pleasure. “Slow down. It’s…too much.” My hands had drifted to the slabs of his pecs, trailing onto his cobblestone abs as he continued to stretch and grow in all directions. He grabbed my hands with his massive paws, but the additional contact only sent a pulse of growth through his already gargantuan body, several feet of cock tearing through whatever fabric his quads and glutes hadn’t already shredded and thwacking onto the ground. 

“What’s…happening…won’t…stop,” he eked out, falling to all fours and breathing heavily as his mega dick spurted globs of precum that puddled below him. He was a larger than life behemoth of glistening, shredded muscle, except of course for the huge globes of his impossibly fat ass, which seemed to keep widening and ballooning as the rest of his growth slowed down.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off the overinflated glutes in front of me, caressing each, my otherwise huge hands dwarfed by the sheer size of them, falling into the heft of each pillowy cheek. Blake’s pride and joy, the unmissable bubble booty that could stop traffic and pull anyone at the bar, had blown up beyond comical proportions, each cheek large enough to crush the truck he drove here in. I felt my hands growing to monstrous proportions just to handle the boulders of blubber whose expansion was finally slowing to a stop as he panted in exhaustion, arching his back in insatiable need.

It all felt oddly reminiscent of the dream I had had of being eaten out by Synt while growing impossibly huge in the archives. Having just gotten a glimpse of Synt’s perception out of the bounds of linear time, I realized Of course. It was--for lack of a better concept, and from my meager three dimensional perspective--prophetic.

And we were hungry.

[hypnotransform]

Blame

(corrected version 2025, with clearer image and much easier-to-read text)

[growth-opportunities]

"Honey, I'm not blind. I saw your eyes flicking over to her every chance you got. Your little 'stretches' weren't fooling anyone, the way you craned your neck to look at her. To be honest, I don't blame you! Curves like hers stuffed into a sling bikini like that? She should have been charging! She probably does. But, well, we're on our honeymoon, baby. I don't want my new husband to be looking at anyone except me, even if they are dressing like a whore that would cost more than our wedding with a body that looked like it was designed by a group of horny teenagers.

"But we won't have to worry about that anymore, will we? I've been generous and left you with half of your height, but I'll keep taking inches every time I see someone other than me catch your attention. And don't think I won't. I'm already loving what the first few feet have done to me, not just making me tower over everyone else, but making my tits a few sizes bigger and making my hips wider to match? It feels so fucking good. You're lucky I left you anything at all! So every time I see your little eyes wander, you'll get smaller and I'll get bigger and we'll keep going until I'm your entire world! Okay, baby? Hehe, good. Let's head back to the hotel room. Too many distractions out here and I really want you to see everything your new goddess has to offer."

[immortalmrwavell]

A Worthy Replacement - Part 2

(Original story posted January 27th 2023) This story has been significantly Updated!

Written for @bodyswappingandshit/@bodyswappingandshit-1

The second part is back! Apologies for the large gap between reposting this one and the last. Gonna attempt to get part three up a little quicker but I hope you all enjoy this one in the meantime. Have had tons of fun updating this story so far and a like to think it’s a strong upgrade from the original. Thanks again for the support everyone!

Read Part 1 Here! Read Part 3 Here! Read The Epilogue Here!

~~~

“I-I’m… I’m Chris fucking Bumstead!!” He announced, almost not believing his own words as they spilled out in a new unfamiliar voice. The man staring back at him in the mirror was none other than the bodybuilding celebrity himself. It shouldn’t have been possible and yet somehow… it was. His rational mind scrambled for some kind of reasonable explanation but there simply wasn’t one. It was all far too real to be a dream. From the scents swirling around in the air to the way his hulking form moved in such an unfamiliar way sent his brain into a tailspin trying to comprehend it all. There was no way it could all be a work of fiction from his sleeping mind despite how impossible it seemed. Just to be sure Martin did the typical thing of pinching one of his thick arms. Nope. Still here. All that did was make him realise just how real his massive biceps were.

With the mirror still ahead of him, Martin couldn’t think of anything else to do other than inspect himself. Starting with his face. He took a few heavy steps towards the mirror to get a better look at the new adorably handsome features he now adorned. The very first thing he felt drawn too was his new beard. It was much thicker and fuller than any beard he’d been able to grow in the past. It framed his gorgeous new mug perfectly while enhancing the squareness of his jawline for an added masculinity Martin could’ve only dreamt of until now. He couldn’t help stroking his fingers through it with admiration a few times with a bewildered chuckled.

It didn’t take long however for his fingers to roam past his beard to touch the rest of his face. The sensation was hard to comprehend as he wandered the shapes and contours of his facial features. Over your life you get so accustomed to the face that you were born with that it’s difficult to imagine how someone else’s face would feel. Even the most subtle differences from the way his nose arched to the depth his eyes were mind boggling to Martin as it all defied the expectations he’d come to know. It completely threw off his sense of touch in a way that was both nauseating and exhilarating at the same time. Even the tiniest differences in his facial structure were noticeable. But through it all he couldn’t help but be distracted by those expressive new brows of his paired with those piercing teal eyes looking back at him. Eyes that usually looked so driven and motivated but right now on Martin seemed lost, confused but also intrigued with underlying lust that was fast growing.

“I can’t believe it… I… I really am him!” Martin muttered to himself, growing more and more giddy as he heard Chris’ natural Canadian accent flowing from his mouth. It was true though. By some miracle he’d become the very man that’d been the focus of countless jerk off sessions for him. Lord only knows how many loads Martin had lost over the years thinking about Chris Bumstead. And now he owned that very same face and body that millions of people would undoubtedly drop to their knees for a chance to worship. He used to dream of being one of those people bowing at Chris’ feet. Now all Martin could think about was how those massive feet belonged to him along with everything else he fantasised about running his hands and tongue over.

Speaking of, Martin couldn’t ignore the rest of his body any longer. How the hell could he? Just moments ago he’d been your average lean dude just looking to get a tad bigger at the gym. Now he was one of the few men in the world having been awarded the Mr Olympia classic physique title! Multiple times at that! He had to take a few steps back until he was almost pressed against the cubicle wall just to get a full view whole body in the mirror.

“Holy fuck… I’m massive.” As he said that last word ‘massive’ he couldn’t help but notice the new lisp he’d inherited from Chris. It was one of the many things that made that titan of a man so damn cute at the same time. Just another thing he’d have to get used to it seemed, not that he minded.

With that the very first thing he did was grab both pecs and an instant feeling of wonder rippled through body and mind as he gave them a hefty squeeze. They were so thick and full with muscle that even his new meatier hands couldn’t contain them. That didn’t stop him from trying though as he groped them both with a giddy smile on his face. To go from a relatively flat chest to having two melon sized slabs of meaty muscle jutted out in front of him was mind blowing in a way that already had his dick tingling. He still couldn’t believe just how tight the tank top fit him now either. It’d been hanging off him moments ago but now it showed off all his assets perfectly. His chest stretched out the front while his godly arms were on full display. But he needed to get a better look at what was underneath.

With one smooth motion Martin pulled the tank top up and over his head before tossing it on the bench. “Whoa…” he muttered, finally getting a proper look at the full upper body he now owned. Sure he’d seen it online before but actually seeing it in person as his own reflection was something else entirely. “I’ve got fuckin abs now as well!” He stated proudly with disbelief and a nervous smile while running a hand along them. Tracing every ridge and contour that was now etched into his skin. They were a perfect balance between tight and thick in a way that sent shivers down his spine just touching them and knowing they somehow belonged to him now.

Despite how incredible his abs were Martin couldn’t help but be drawn back to his monstrous chest. They somehow looked even more inviting that they weren’t being hidden under his tank top. Finally on full display as they rose and fell hypnotically in time with his breathing. Each pec capped off with a stiff pointed nipple that only grew more rigid in the cool air. He hefted them again and couldn’t help noting the subtly soreness in his chest, likely from Chris’ workout. Yet for some reason Martin found it oddly satisfying. Like knowing he’d achieved something. He gave them another squeeze before letting his fingers rest around the aforementioned nipples. After that it wasn’t long before Martin found himself having to stifle a deep moan while pinching those sensitive little fuckers as they sent shocks of electrifying arousal through his entire body. There was no doubt they felt better than his old nipples. He almost didn’t want to stop pinching them. They were like a lightning rod straight to his cock as a noticeable tent began forming in his shorts.

“Mmmmhh… ughhhhnn… f-fuuuckuugh…” Martin grumbled to himself as his cock began to pulse violently. He was unable to stop one hand from wandering down towards his crotch while the other remained stimulating his nipples and kneading his pecs. He ran his hand over the outline of his dick and immediately his eyes widened with shock. He pulled his hand away as he stared down at his bulge. He knew it'd changed during that whole transformation from before, he’d felt it, but actually feeling it was difficult to fathom. For some reason his brain had still been expecting the same average cock he’d always had but the outline he’d just felt was anything but average. It was girthy. Fat. It was… more eager than ever. Just looking down at the bulge was making his mouth go dry.

One half of Martin’s mind was screaming at him to just tug his shorts down and set that beast free. And he wanted to give in to that urge so damn badly! But the other side of his brain was scared. If that was even the right word. Apprehensive? Nervous to see the monster now hanging between his huge thighs. Regardless he decided to build up to it. To check out the rest of his new assets before getting to the big one.

So after giving himself a moment to compose, Martin returned his attention to the mirror before lifting up his arms and flexing them. Watching gleefully as his biceps peaked with carefully crafted strength and muscle. He could already feel himself getting drunk on the power his arms exuded as he imagined just how much weight he could life now. But as he lifted them higher, Martin began to notice something that made his eyes light up. His scent. He hadn’t noticed it as much at first as his new nose was of course more attuned to it. But with his armpits raised up, it was finally starting to hit him. That sweaty masculine scent he’d been getting high on before wasn’t just coming from the stolen clothes anymore. That gorgeous aroma… it was coming from him! That powerful musk belonged to him! It seeped from his sweaty armpits! His sweaty crotch and ass! It was all his!

Just as Martin was about to start digging his nose into his armpits in another sniffing frenzy, he heard the sounds of noisy gym bro’s storming in after finishing their own workouts. Of course part of him wanted to stay locked in here so he could explore his new body for all its worth here and now… but he figured all the background noise would inevitably ruin the experience. And so, as much as he wanted to rip off his shorts and get a look at the full package he was working with right now, he did his best to restrain himself while slipping his tank top back on.

Martin took one last look in the mirror to quickly admire his bulky legs that he hadn’t gotten a chance to worship yet before walking out of the cubicle a few minutes later. He carried his old smaller clothes under his arm, not sure what to do with them as they sure as hell wouldn’t fit him now. It was then that he remembered Chris’ gym bag. It’d been sitting next to the bench where he’d found Chris’ clothes. Perfect!

He darted around the corner towards the aisle he’d taken the bodybuilder’s clothes from and sure enough the gym bag was still sitting exactly where it’d been left. Without a second thought, Martin grabbed the bag and unzipped it to find a large set of clean regular clothes that Chris had probably been planning on changing into. That reminded him. If he had Chris’ body now… then what had happened to the real Chris Bumstead? Had he somehow vanished just for Martin to take his place? Had Chris shrunk down and transformed into Martin’s old self? Or was he completely fine and just having a shower completely unaware that he now had a twin?

If the last case were true then he didn’t wanna stick around for long. Who knows what kind of chaos would ensue if Chris came out to find his doppelgänger out here! Just in case though, he left the extra clothes and towel in the locker that Chris had seemingly left open before stuffing his own old clothes into the gym bag instead and making his way out of the gym’s locker room with haste. Rushing past all the people that gazed in his direction with awe as they recognised his famous physique.

———

Stepping out of the gym, Martin took his first deep breath of fresh air with his new lungs. He did so with a satisfied grin spreading across his face. Only question now was where to go next? It’s not like he could go to Chris’ place. For a start he didn’t even know where it was and secondly he knew the real Chris had a wife. He can’t imagine it’d take her long to figure out that something was up. After all, Martin might’ve had Chris’ body but he still didn’t know anything about his life past what he’d seen online. Right now he didn’t want the hassle of trying to fake it. That in mind the only real option was for him to head back to his apartment for now and try to keep on the down low until he was able to figure out what his next move was here.

With the gym bag slung over his massive shoulder, Martin began to march his way back home. As he did he couldn’t help but notice the difference in his stride. Naturally his larger frame made his whole stance wider which in turn gave him a bit more swagger when he walked. There was a certain confidence to the way he moved as well. Confidence that hadn’t been there before. Like he was just so sure of himself now on a subconscious level. Part of it was likely due to muscle memory but still.

It wasn’t until he was about half way home however that he started to notice a fast growing hunger in belly. At first he tried ignoring it but that soon became impossible when his stomach started growling at him. Sure he had some food at home he could shovel down to satiate his hunger but not much of it was suited to the diet this body was used to. He knew well enough that Chris treated his body like a temple for the most part. Of course he’d have some cheat meals here and there or a sweet snack once in a while but overall a top tier bodybuilder like Chris always kept on top of his eating. Making sure he was feeding his body all the right things to keep his muscles huge and strong. Of course Martin could just ignore that and eat whatever he wanted but… if he’d been gifted a body as godly as this he should at least try to take care of it as best he can right?

Thankfully there was a pretty decent shop on the way home for the huge man to stop for some healthier options than what he had stored in his cupboards. He wasn’t exactly sure what to get so he ended up using one of Chris’ own YouTube videos about what he eats in the day to get a good idea of what to look for. Before long Martin had managed to fill his basket with plenty of healthy ingredients and that would help to make a filling meal worthy of this new bulky body of his.

———

Home at last. Martin grabbed the door handle and let himself inside, bagged groceries in hand. He closed the door before turning around only to jump out of his skin in shock! Inside his apartment on the other side of his living room was a stranger that he most certainly didn’t recognise. The stranger didn’t seem the least bit surprised however as he remained sat on the couch staring at Martin with a smirk.

“W-who the hell are you!?” Martin shouted, the panic and confusion clearly visible in his tone of voice. Despite that, he sounded a hell of a lot more intimidating now as he shouted those words from this goliath of a body. And yet the stranger didn’t seem the slightest bit intimidated. Amused perhaps but nothing more.

The man didn’t reply right away, instead opting to get up from his couch and take a few slow steps closer. His shoes clicked against the floor with every pace in a way that made the larger man’s heart race. He was well put together with immaculate hair and a suit that hugged his frame. Though as the stranger noticed Martin backing up a little, he chuckled and put his hands in the air as if to signal that he was harmless.

“Hey, hey. No reason to be afraid, my huge hunky friend.” He said in an almost flirtatious voice as he scanned Martin’s gargantuan form. “Look. You can just call me Wavell. I’m the one responsible for the gift bestowed upon you. Martin.” Wavell claimed, surprising Martin at the use of his real name despite looking nothing like his former self now. “Unless you’d rather me call you Chris? That is who you are now after all. Chris Bumstead. You said it yourself if I remember correctly…” Wavell added while scratching his bearded chin lazily.

“You know that I’m… wait what do you mean you’re responsible!?” Martin questioned, still unsure of the whole situation. So many queries spun around his head that Martin struggled to even process what was happening right now as he slowly paced the bag of groceries down on the ground.

Wavell rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, you know exactly what I mean. I made you into the man that you are. I’m the one that gave you the body of a multiple time Mr Olympia winner.” He laughed a little as he took a few steps closer, watching as the gears in Martin’s head turned. “And personally I think it really suits you.” Wavell’s eyes wandered Martin’s physique again, tracing over the muscle his tight gym clothes exposed.

“Wait but… this happened when I took his clothes and… his underwear started glowing…” Martin tried his best to recall exactly what happened despite it being a bit of a blur during his transformation. He just remembers… growing. So much growing.

“Yeah and who do you think enchanted that pair of underwear?” Wavell cocked an eyebrow, watching in amusement as Martin’s face turned to that of shock and disbelief. After that he went onto explain himself a little better as he did with most people he revealed himself to. Wavell explained his status as a powerful magic being that more or less possesses the abilities to bend reality to his will. Naturally it was a lot to take in for poor Martin. The now bodybuilder had to take a seat on the couch as he absorbed everything the so-called warlock was telling him. If it hadn’t been for the huge body he currently possessed, he would’ve thought Wavell was crazy. “But yeah I suppose that’s me in a nutshell. All powerful warlock… yada yada.” He concluded, shrugging his shoulders.

Martin lent back in his seat, trying not to get distracted by how much of the couch his massive body was taking up now, as he digested everything Mr Wavell told him. “Wow… I don’t even know what to say.” He muttered. In such a short amount of time he’d gone from having just a normal, yet somewhat pervy, day to now finding himself believing in actual magic! “Well… why me? What’s so special about me that you decided to give me a body that looks exactly like Chris freaking Bumstead!?” He said while gesturing down at his perfect physique, trying not to get turned on at the sight of all the muscle he now owned.

“Let’s just say I like to have a bit of fun with the men on earth.” The warlock wriggled his eyebrows slightly. “Truth be told, I’ve been a fan of Chris for quite some time. The work he put in to carve such a beautiful body is truly inspiring. The peak of what a man can achieve, some might say. That said I started to think that maybe he needed a new… gayer replacement. And you just so happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Wavell explained with a smug expression. “I even enchanted his clothes in such a way that only those who I deemed worthy would’ve been able to acknowledge the clothes. So I've got no doubt that you’re a worthy replacement.”

After soaking that in, Martin noticed something the warlock had said. “Wait? You kept saying ‘replacement’.” The cogs in his brain turned. “If I’m replacing the real Chris then… What happened to him? The real him. Where is he?” Martin asked steadily, trying to hide his growing concern.

Wavell hummed with amusement. “Oh don’t worry about him. Besides, you’re the real Chris now.” The warlock grinned devilishly. “Just think of it like… he was warming up the body for you. Getting it ready for you to take over. And now you’re its rightful owner.”

Martin was almost lost for words. “S-seriously? So you’re saying that I get to live the life of Chris Bumstead from now on? Like… forever??” The idea was both exciting as all hell and a bit scary at the same time.

“Exactly! And before you say it, yes I know you don’t have the mind and memories of the original Chris just yet. Don’t worry. With enough persuasion the original will give them up to you no doubt. I’m sure the two of you will get acquainted soon enough.”

“Wait what?? What do you mean? Where is he??”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Wavell sneered not unkindly. “Anyway the main reason I came here was to see if there was anything in the meantime I could do to help you get settled in? Besides the memories of course.”

Martin thought for a second. Off the top of his head there wasn’t a whole lot he could think of that wouldn’t be taken care of if or when he received Chris’ memories. There was pretty much only one thing that came to mind. “Could you make me single so I’m not engaged to Chris’ fiancé? Obviously I don’t really know her. Plus I’m gay sooooo…” It was something that’d crossed his mind earlier with how he didn’t really wanna have to deal with all that awkwardness.

“Honey. I have the best gaydar known to mankind. I know you’re gay.” His voice was low smooth as he gave Martin a wink. After that he simply closed his eyes as Martin looked on in awe while a purple aura glowed around the mysterious man. Then without warning a pulse of magic energy surged out of him and spread out across the planet. And with that, it was complete. “All done. Now everyone who knows Chris will think you’re single and your former fiancé is in a happy relationship with another man. I also took the liberty of erasing your former identity and transferring ownership of everything you owned as Martin to your new self as Chris. For example this apartment is now owned by Chris Bumstead alongside your new house.” Wavell explained nonchalantly as if it were no big deal.

“Well now that’s all taken care of I suppose I should be on my way.” Wavell jumped up from his seat yet again before outstretching a hand to the new bodybuilder who was still sitting on the couch processing everything that had just happened. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” He reassured.

Martin, though with slight hesitation, reached out and shook Wavell’s hand. “Thank you… for all of this. This amazing body and life. How can I repay you??” Being the kind hearted person he was, Martin almost felt bad accepting such an insanely generous gift. Out of the billions of people on the planet, Wavell chose him. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

“No need! The best thing you can do is enjoy that body to the fullest for me. That’s all the repayment I need.” Wavell winked and before Martin could get another word in, the warlock flicked his wrist and in a second he vanished into thin air as if he were never there to begin with…

———

Martins’ head was spinning. After everything that had gone down today, who the hell could blame him! He’d met Cbum at the gym, stole his clothes and then actually TRANSFORMED INTO HIM. Only later to find out that magic is actually real and that a reality bending wizard dude essentially gave him the life of a bodybuilding celebrity free of charge. No strings attached as far as he could tell. Sooner or later he just decided to take a deep breath and instead of worrying about the who’s, what’s and how’s to instead just enjoy what he’d been gifted.

That in mind, it wasn’t long before he soon found himself standing in front of the mirror mounted on the wardrobe in his bedroom. Just like at the gym, the mirror struggled to capture his entire reflection with how much taller and wider he was. It made everything in his apartment seem as though it’d shrunk. He was still trying to adjust. Despite that it didn’t take long for him to throw off the tank top once again to reveal his insane upper body.

He tossed both arms up into a meaty double bicep flex. It was one thing getting to see that muscle swell in the mirror but to actually feel it as well sent shivers all the way down to his cock. He’d been trying to keep that python under control ever since the gym but he’d pretty much been semi erect from the moment he finished transforming. Getting to drool over his own shirtless reflection again certainly wasn't helping his case as he brought his arms up higher to admire his thick lats and triceps. That’s when it hit him again. The delicious scent. Just like that Martin immediately remembered where he’d left off at the gym.

He wasted no time in stuffing his nose into one of his smelly armpits and inhaling the rich scent. It smelt fresh and strong, having come straight from the source, as he huffed away into bliss. “Fuck I *snifffff* actually have *sniffff* his scent! *sniffff*” Martin claimed, not having the strength to pull away from his armpits for even a second. That exact same manly aroma that he’d smelt on Chris when he walked past at the gym. The same aroma that drenched the clothes he’d stolen. The very same scent that the current classic Mr Olympia carried with him after a long hard workout. Now it belonged to Martin! It was his scent now and he fucking loved it! It wasn’t until he’d gotten a good long whiff of both pits did Martin finally pull away for a breath of fresh air. The sweat had coated his face and beard, leaving behind an echo of the aroma to continue permeating his nostrils. He could definitely get used to this.

He made sure to take a moment to worship his massive chest a little more, massaging those thick pecs as if to confirm once again that they were in fact real. He flexed them a little and watched as the muscle went from relaxed and pliable to hard as steel in an instant. He licked his lips absentmindedly at the sight, flexing his chest a few more times while grabbing dense muscle.

After all that though, Martin thought it was about time he stopped putting it off and finally got down to the real juicy stuff. His gaze drifted downwards to the tight shorts that clung to his mammoth thighs while the bulge of his fat and excited new cock had once again caused a tent to rise in the front. Between the pit smelling and the pec worshipping, the hefty bulge he was already carrying had become an intimidating outline once again that strained against his crotch. God he just wanted to see it sooo badly. He was craving it now. The sight of Chris Bunstead’s huge cock. His cock. But first he couldn’t help looking past the shorts and down towards his feet, still clad in those smelly size 13 sneakers…

With a smirk the hunk sat himself down in the bed, hearing it creak under his new weight, before gripping one of the large sneakers and steadily sliding it off his foot. He cast his mind back to how they’d been many sizes too big for him when he’d first stumbled across them in the locker room. When he first plunged his feet inside, they’d been dwarfed by shoes. But now that couldn’t have been further from the truth as he unleashed one of his socked feet at last. His mouth began to water as Martin got a full view of just how huge his feet were. He wriggled his toes inside the sweat stained socks with stars in his eyes, knowing they were easily smelly enough to stink up those sneakers even more after a good workout just like the original Chris could.

Well there was only one thing to do. In a scene reminiscent of when he’d first locked himself in the cubicle, Martin brought the sneaker up towards his face. He could already smell it. That same overpowering smell that’d short circuited his brain before, only now it smelt familiar to his new nose. That didn’t make it any less intoxicating though. He thought about savouring the moment but lost all control as soon as that sneaker drew close to his face. It wasn’t long before he was stuffing his nose into the sneaker like an animal yet again. The pungent musk perforating his nostrils and sending him into a huffing frenzy. Only this time he couldn’t help getting even hornier than before knowing that this intoxicating smell was all his! It came from his sneakers! His massive feet! Just the thought of that was making him leak precum.

Martin was so lost in the pleasure of it all that he failed to notice the soul of a certain someone beginning to stir. It began with low groans reverberating in Martin’s mind which at first he paid little attention to. He was too lost in his own euphoria to notice. That is until those groans started to form words instead.

“Ughh… What happened? Where am I?” A voice echoed around Martin. Hearing it caused Martin to suddenly halt his horny crusade yet again. “Why is it so dark? Fuck… I feel so… strange?” The voice continued, as Martin looked around to find the source. “I can’t move… ughhh what’s that smell??? And that salty taste?” The words were like thoughts bouncing around in Martin’s mind only they weren’t his own thoughts. They were foreign, almost as if someone were speaking to him via telepathy.

Confused, Martin asked the voice who or what it was. The voice seemed startled to hear him. Martin asked what the hell the voice was doing inside his head but the voice was just as clueless as he was about it all. Apparently the last thing it remembered was being in a changing room at the gym before meeting a strange man. And that’s when Martin’s eyes widened. He was slowly starting to connect the dots as the voice continued on. Especially once the voice told Martin its name. Chris. There was no mistaking it. Somehow he was speaking to the real Chris Bumstead!

“My body… I can’t even describe it. I feel so thin and… hollow? But also like I’m being filled out at the same time??” Chris struggled to explain the beyond alien sensations he was feeling. “It’s like I’m being stretched around something? Like I’m being forced to hug something that’s musky and pressing against me???” He continued, trying to stay as calm as possible but it was clear there was genuine fear in his voice. “W-what the hell is happening?!?”

Martin found himself glancing around the room. It was a natural instinct but of course he didn’t see anything despite Chris claiming they were in the same room. Apparently Chris could hear Martin’s voice out loud as well as his thoughts which meant he had to be nearby right? With a sigh the bulky man got up from the bed to try and figure this conundrum out. Only he was about to discover that the answer was far simpler than he realised.

The moment Martin stood up, Chris grunted before claiming that the thing he was being stretched around was moving. Finding the timing of it rather odd, Martin asked Chris to say something whenever he felt movement. Martin waited a moment before taking a big step and sure enough Chris alerted him. Martin tested it a few more times and every time he seemed to move his body Chris would tell him that whatever he was attached to was shifting.

All the pieces were there. So many insanely impossible pieces and yet Martin’s brain began to slowly put them together.

He’d transformed into Chris Bumstead. The original Chris had seemingly disappeared despite Martin being able to hear him right now. With that alone one would assume that perhaps Chris’ soul was sharing the body with Martin as a helpless passenger. But then why could Chris see anything? And why did he feel hollow and stretched around something? And then it clicked.

The clothes. They were the catalyst of this all. Wavell had said they were enchanted and when the transformation began it was Chris’ underwear specifically that’d glowed beforehand…

“What do you mean you transformed into me? And you took my clothes?!?” Chris questioned suddenly, having heard some of Martin’s thoughts.

“O-oh I uhmm…” Martin didn’t know how to respond, growing flustered. Instead of denying it however, he simply stepped up to the mirror yet again. With a deep breath, Martin slipped his thumbs under the waistband of his shorts before pushing them down to his ankles. What ensued was chaos.

Suddenly it was no longer dark for Chris. He, just like Martin, was now looking right ahead at the mirror. Only there was one glaring issue. Despite seeing his own body in the reflection, he wasn’t at all in control of it. In fact he wasn’t even looking out of his own eyes! Rather his line of sight was level with his own body’s crotch instead which was disorienting as all hell. It was only then that Chris realised what he’d overheard Martin theorising in his head moments ago must’ve been true.

Somehow he’d been transformed into his own fucking underwear while some other dude sauntered around with his body!!!

As one would expect Chris began to freak the fuck out. At first praying that this was all a dream, saying that it was completely impossible. These aimless pleas were mixed with anger towards Martin as Chris accused him of being a body snatching creep. Of course Martin felt pretty bad. After all Chris was technically right. Even if it wasn’t intentional, he did steal the body Chris had worked his entire life to carve into perfection. Judging by what Mr Wavell had said however, he didn't think that crazy wizard would be willing to undo any of this. Instead, the best thing Martin could do was comfort Chris as best he could and try to convince him that it was a genuine accident.

“Accident my ass! You stole my clothes and wore them like a pervert!” Chris accused and admittedly he wasn’t wrong.

“Look I know. I’m sorry alright! Yeah I took them but I had no idea this would happen! It was this Mr Wavell dude that did all this! I swear!” Martin pleaded. “I promise I’d reverse this if I knew how!” He added, though he wasn’t entirely sure if he believed himself with that one.

Chris was stuck on that name though. He’d heard it echo in through Martin’s mind briefly but hearing it outloud struck a chord. “Wavell? Why does that name sound so familiar?…” He wondered, stilling trying to ignore the powerful scent surrounding his fabric body that was now evidently the smell of his former sweaty balls.

Martin kicked off the shorts hanging around his ankles before sitting back down on the bed. He decided it was best to be honest and just lay everything out on the table. He started by admitting he’d been a huge fan of Chris for a long time and that he was one of Martin’s top crushes. Going on to explain how he hadn’t believed his eyes when he saw Chris at the gym earlier that day. He began to turn a deep shade of red which looked adorable on his stolen face as he admitted to stealing Chris’ clothes after finding them alone on a bench in the locker room. After that Martin tried his best to recall the bizarre transformation he underwent after putting the clothes on. Noting again how the underwear Chris now seemed to be inhabiting had glowed brightly during said transformation. Not to mention Wavell showing up at his apartment not long since.

Hearing all that was just enough to trigger some of Chris’ final memories from before waking up here. Just before he passed out there was a guy he talked to who also called himself Mr Wavell. A rather dapper man who’d used some kind of spell to bind him in place before doing some crazy magic shit. Martin was actually telling the truth.

“Oh fuck.” They both said in unison.

After taking some time to collect themselves, the pair had a long discussion on what the hell to do next. Through which it was clear Chris was trying his absolute best to keep his composure but Martin saw straight through it. They were connected now and he could feel just how panicked Chris truly was. After all he’d been reduced from a living statue a male glory to a sentient pair of underwear. Any ordinary person would’ve already lost their minds by now. But despite the underlying hysteria he was feeling, Chris managed to keep himself calm enough for them to decide on what to do in the short term. Ultimately they concluded it would be best for Martin to just live Chris’ life as normally as possible until they find a way to fix this. Thankfully Martin was able to stop himself from thinking too loudly about how the more time he spent in this body, the less he wanted to go back. As if he ever wanted to go back to begin with.

Just then another loud rumble from Martin’s stomach filled the room. Fuck he was really hungry. But he was still so damn horny as well! Knowing this, Chris told him to ignore his urges and get some damn food. Yet Martin looked down at the other sneaker he was still wearing and he just couldn’t help himself.

“Martin. Don’t you fucking dare. I heard that thought.” Chris warned but ultimately he couldn’t do a thing as he watched Martin pull off the other sneaker and press it to his nose. Witnessing this, Chris was utterly repulsed to see his own body getting turned on by the smell of his own sweaty sneakers. He couldn’t believe such a dirty perv had gotten his hands on his former body. And even worse, Chris was forced to take notice of the feeling of his own dick getting larger and stiffer by the second, stretching the front of his tight fabric body as it struggled to contain that monster.

Despite Chris’ protests, Martin continued sniffing the pungent shoe feverishly. God it was easily one of the best scents in whole fucking world! He couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of it. And weirdly enough, though he did still feel a bit bad about it, hearing Chris protes to it all only made Martin hornier. Especially when he started complaining about being able to taste his own precum as Martin’s new throbbing cock began to leak even more.

Martin had even begun caressing his dick through (Chris) his underwear, already loving the size of it and wanting to pull it out any second despite Chris telling him not to. But before he could get too excited his stomach growled once again, this time even louder. Martin threw his head back with a sigh before tossing the sneaker to the floor. “Fine, I'll stop. But only because this giant body feels like it’ll starve if I don’t eat something soon.” He grumbled, still pawing his bulge as he got up and stomped out of the bedroom with heavy footsteps.

———

The sizzling sound of delicious meat frying against a hot pan filled the tiny apartment. Crackling and popping as the chicken Martin had decided to have as part of his dinner cooked away. He stood in nothing but that same pair of sweaty white socks from the gym and the tight underwear that Chris was trapped inside. Martin’s huge, impressive muscles were on full display as he opened the lid to another pot on the stove to check on the rice he was also cooking. All the while he tried his best not to get too distracted by the beautiful sight that was his own body everytime he looked down.

Begrudgingly Chris had agreed to help Martin with his food, suggesting something easy and simple that would be hard to mess up. After all, nobody knew this huge bulky body better than him. He gave Martin instructions on how much to eat and what things to add as he watched on from his crotch height view. He was a bit short tempered with the questions Martin would ask him throughout preparation but in fairness Chris had to deal with the constant taste of his own cock and balls the whole time.

Once everything was cooked and Martin was dishing up a big meal for himself, he couldn’t help but catch the sweaty stench wafting from his pits again. He just couldn’t escape that wonderful smell, not that he’d ever want to. However, as much as he adored his natural new scent, Martin decided he should probably jump in the shower after dinner. A thought that Chris seemed to be in agreement with. There’s only so far you can take a good thing after all.

Soon after Martin found himself sitting at the table, which he now dwarfed with his size, as he stared down at the huge chicken and rice meal. Despite how hungry he felt, Martin honestly didn’t think he’d be able to get it all down. After all he’d never eaten this big of a meal as filling as chicken and rice but then again he’d never had a body this big either. Regardless it didn’t stop him from digging into the meal and savouring every last bite. As Martin shoveled spoonful after spoonful into his mouth, Chris couldn’t help but be a little annoyed with how much this random gay dude was enjoying his former body. Happily munching away while flexing randomly as if he owned it all. But ultimately there was nothing he could do other than sit and cradle his own manhood while this imposter satiated his hulking body’s hunger.

Despite his doubts Martin was actually able to finish all his food before letting out an enormous belch that verbarated through his entire body. “Ahhhhhh… that was some good shit.” Martin sighed happily while rubbing his muscled stomach. “You’ll have to teach me how to cook more stuff like that so I can keep this body fed.” He laughed while giving one of his biceps another cocky flex.

“Well it’s my body that you’ll mess up if I don’t so I don’t have much of a choice…” Chris pouted, metaphorically of course, as Martin got up from the table and did a huge stretch. After which the new hunk’s hand drifted south to give his already semi-hard cock another rub. “Hey! Hands off my dick!” Chris snapped as he felt his fabric body being pawed yet again while the hefty dick underneath pulsed giddily.

“Alright, alright sorry.” Martin apologised, taking his hand away begrudgingly.

———

Having eaten and given his dinner some time to settle, Martin at last made his way to the bathroom where he looked over at the shower gleefully. He pulled off his smelly socks only to give them each a deep satisfying sniff before tossing them to the side. After that his mind began thinking about all the things he was finally gonna do to this body as the water ran over him and…

“Don’t even think about it.” Chris berated, having heard the other man’s very horny and very gay thoughts just now. “Get in, wash my body, and get out.”

Martin rolled his eyes with an annoyed grumble. “Look Chris. I respect you. Really. You’re one of the most amazing celebrities on the planet in my opinion. It sucks that you’re stuck the way you are but right now this body isn’t yours.” Martin glided a hand down his hulking torso, rubbing his pecs and abs, his eyes gluing to the sight of his enormous thighs below. “It’s mine*” He claimed boldly. “So, with all due respect, I think I’ll do whatever the hell I want my body, okay?” He stood his ground firmly. “Now you’re gonna sit out here like a good pair of dirty underwear while I get to know my new assets a bit more intimately under a nice relaxing shower.” He stated with a smirk on his handsome face.

As one would imagine this was met by furious protests from Chris who shouted all kinds of empty threats. This didn’t stop Martin from pushing the sentient pair of underwear down to his ankles with a smirk though.

Instantly Martin was enthralled at the sight of his new cock. Finally unleashed from its fabric prison in all its thick veiny glory. No longer straining desperately for release as it stood at full attention between his legs, looking just as massive as the rest of his body. Martin’s mouth went dry in an instant as he stared down at it. Huge and throbbing as it pulsed hypnotically like it was beckoning to him. All while a heavy set of balls hung underneath, supplying his massive body with endless amounts of testosterone. His old cock and balls seemed tiny in comparison to these. At that moment all he could think about was how it would feel to drain the hefty nuts of Mr Olympia and shoot his premium bodybuilder seed everywhere with this perfect cock. It was so thick. So tempting. So… wait.

It’d taken Martin a while to realise due to the control his new dick had over him but the voice in his head had suddenly vanished. As of the moment he took off the underwear, he could no longer hear Chris. Confused, he picked the underwear back up. As soon as he did, Chris’ voice began echoing through his mind again only it was muffled now. It seemed as though he could only hear clearly what Chris was thinking and saying while he was actually wearing the haunted underwear. Well at least that meant he wouldn’t have an annoying voice in his head 24/7 and that this next part could be all private.

At long last he was able to see himself fully naked and needless to say he wasn’t disappointed. Not that he ever had any doubt. The bathroom mirror didn’t do him nearly enough justice but it wasn’t much of a bother when Martin could just look down and see that godly physique in a first person perspective. If anything that was even more of a turn on. He adored his new reflection of course, that much was obvious, but it was hard to even describe the level of euphoria Martin felt when looking down at himself to see these gigantic arms and pecs all his own. He was groping himself again as he stepped towards the shower. The sensation of his much longer and fatter cock bouncing between his legs with every step making him feel manlier than he ever had before.

Martin found himself almost hitting his head on the top of the shower curtain before ducking a little to get under the shower. He had no doubt he was gonna numb his head on a few more things before he fully adjusted to his new height. Moments later there was a small creak as he twisted the shower knob and with it came a downpour of steaming water that rained onto him. Immediately he felt every tense muscle in his body start to relax as the hot water gushed over every inch of his hunky form. He couldn’t help but let out a long sigh of relief as he rolled his back a little before running his hands through his wet hair and beard.

Part of him wanted to go slow. To work his way down to that impressive manhood he’d been itching to test out… but he’d teased himself enough today. Right away Martin wrapped a huge hand around that thick rod with a shivering groan. It felt better than he could have ever imagined. Gripping a cock that wasn’t his own. One that was not only much bigger but seemingly more sensitive as well as he guided his hand back and forth along its shaft. He bit his lip softly as he worshiped it, his thoughts a flurry of all the erotic fantasies he’d once had about Chris finally becoming reality in the best way imaginable.

While his right hand had fun pumping Martin’s new and improved cock, his left hand was having a party of its own as it continued to worship the rest of his delicious muscle. Relishing the sensation of squeezing all of his wet muscle as he glistened under the water. He’d never get tired of groping his meaty, award winning pecs. Especially not when pinching at his nipples felt this damn amazing. Those rigid nuns sending shockwaves through down to his cock just like in that cubicle earlier today, causing even deeper groans to escape his mouth. Martin’s strokes became more and more furious, causing the tip of his cock to splutter a few extra drops of precum. All while he gave his left arm a string flex before kissing the massive bicep with glee. “Damn… I still can’t believe how fucking huge I am.” Martin muttered to himself with that iconic Cbum lisp. “Huge chest, huge arms, huge legs… huge dick.” He said, grinning even more at the last part.

He was jerking off so aggressively that it wasn’t long before a familiar pressure began to build. He didn’t want to blow his load just yet though so Martin built up the courage to let go of of dick for now so he could grab some soap and actually get clean. After rubbing some shampoo and conditioner into his hair and beard, Martin was quick to squeeze a helping of shower gel into his hand before rubbing it around his body. Ordinary he’d use a loofa to soap himself up but not this time. He was gonna make sure to lather the soap in every nook and cranny with his bare fingers. Going over every ridge of hard earned muscle all while his dick stayed at full mast. After getting his upper body all soaped up, he moved his hands towards his backside and made sure to lather his ass up good. He honestly hadn’t paid it enough attention since the transformation. This juicy behemoth of a muscle ass deserved a hell of a lot more worship for the beauty that it was. Just as thick and huge as everything else. Soft when relaxed and hard as steel when flexed. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he’d give his new ass the attention it deserves in the near future…

Speaking of under-appreciated body parts, Martin’s hands finally had the chance to wander lower. Past his bubbly ass and giant cock until he reached those colossal tree trunks he now called legs. He hadn’t had a chance to properly worship them yet but planned to make up for that right here and now. He glided his hands over the hard lines that decorated his bulging hairy thighs. Flexing them as he did, causing his quads to swell with the kind of strength that could crush a pumpkin. As he touched them, Martin thought back to all the times he’d nutted all over himself imagining what it would feel like to have his head squished gently between Chris’ thighs. Now all he could think about was how many men he’d have grovelling at his feet for a chance to live out that very fantasy between his legs. But of course that didn’t stop him from bending down even further just to run his hands along those bulging calves of his, looking just as large and impressive. Though it was hard not to be distracted by his feet again when he was that low down.

After taking a good long while to run his needy hands up and down the length of his legs again and again, Martin finally stepped back under the water and got everything washed off. As much as he loved that sweaty post gym smell he had, he certainly felt a lot cleaner now as he watched the bubbles circle down the drain. However, now that was taken care of, Martin just couldn’t ignore his urges any longer.

In a matter of moments he had a gorilla grip on that fat cock of his once again. It wasn’t long before he was lustfully pumping his stolen length as his low groans began turning more into primal grunts fuelled by an innate male desire to release his seed. Of course Martin was familiar, having been a man his whole life, but now that desire felt as though it’d been dialled up to eleven! Perhaps it was part due to his new body. All the new muscle and testosterone of a professional bodybuilder enhancing his masculine needs. It was also probably because he was just obsessed with himself now. That said, Martin was surprised he’d lasted this long after walking around with the body of a living god. Getting to feel so huge in literally every physical aspect was a wet dream come true! How he’d managed to not cum in his shorts at any point due to the sheer erotica of it all was behind him.

The reason he’d been able to hold onto his load for this long was likely thanks to the incredible sexual stamina Chris’ body seemed to possess. Because that man wasn’t perfect enough apparently. Martin lasted much longer than he thought while jerking himself this rigorously but finally, after what felt like a good arm workout, his load was drawing near. His legs were spread apart as the intensity continued to ramp up. His mouth hung open a little as his eyes began to flutter. His head moved back just far enough to catch the streaming water that’d been striking his back as a soft but guttural moan escaped his lips. Right now, in this very moment, Martin’s life was absolutely perfect. And he wanted nothing more than for it to stay this way. Forever.

“Fuuuuuuck yeahhhh!” He began as more precum dripped from his cock and down the hand he was using to stroke it. “Yeahhhh… I’m Mr Olympia now…” Martin groaned to himself in ecstasy before bouncing his pecs a little. “Mmmm so big… like a fucking muscle god.” He used his free hand once again to worship his giant body for all it was worth. Meanwhile his balls began to tense until suddenly his dick couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Ohhh yeah!! Fuck being Martin! I’m Chris Bumstead now!!” He claimed proudly in a horny daze as his cock let loose in an eruption the likes of which he’d never felt before. His dick was like a hose splattering thick alpha male cum all over the shower wall and floor with more force than he expected. He shot rope after rope of delicious high end semen until his fat balls were completely drained down to the last drop. All the while a big dumb grin had been plastered across that adorable bearded face of his as cum dripped down the wall.

Once the dust had settled on his orgasm, it didn’t take Martin long to lick some of his own seed up off the wall. Safe to say it tasted just as amazing as had when he’d licked it out of the underwear that same morning. Shortly after he rinsed off the shower walls and himself one last time. Martin twisted the shower knob again and stepped out. At last he felt clean, refreshed and relieved.

After a quick stretch he grabbed a towel and wrapped it gingerly around his waist before heading off back towards his bedroom. But not before picking up the original Chris who’d been forced to listen to another man enjoying what should be his body! The moment Martin grabbed Chris, he could already hear the other man’s disgusted protests over what he’d heard but Martin just laughed it off.

———

After the day he’d had, Martin found himself feeling incredibly drained and all he wanted to do now was sleep his ass off for as long as possible. It was no wonder. He’d considered putting Chris back on to sleep in but somehow he felt like he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep if he had that voice in his head all night. “Sorry big guy but you’re gonna have to sleep with your new buddies tonight.” Martin said before giving the underwear a mocking sniff. “And by buddies I mean my pile of clothes over there.” He giggled before tossing the possessed underwear on top of the clothes pile across the room.

With that Martin found himself slipping under his bed covers at last. He found himself shuffling around a bit as this bed certainly wasn’t made with someone as enormous as he was now. Eventually though he managed to make himself comfortable in a position that didn’t involve his feet dangling off the edge of the bed. And with that he slowly closed his eyes and drifted off into his first dream as the new Chris Bumstead.

[bodybeyondstories]

Just ignore it - 4

Lee and Armand try to get a handle on David's powers of suggestion before being interrupted by the delivery of yet another weird artifact. David goes for a bike ride to clear his head, only to end up complicating things further by causing some unexpected changes with some unexpected results.

1 | 2 | 3 (Previous) | 5 (Next)

[ ass expansion // dick growth // suggestion ]

5095 words

-----

“You transformed Jamal? The new barista upstairs?” asked Lee.

“Isn’t that a bit much?” added Armand, arms crossed over his chest. “He’s already like nine feet tall or something.”

“Well yeah, he is now,” I said, exasperated by the disappointed parents routine I was getting back in the cleanroom. “But he wasn’t an hour ago. Or he was, in a different…timeline or whatever. Which is now this timeline. Or I was in a different timeline. Or the universe just sort of shifted or something, I don’t know.”

Jamal, to the best of anyone’s knowledge, was a possibly genetic, possibly magical anomaly who really did top out at just over nine feet. Why he insisted on keeping his barista job was even more of a mystery, but he was obviously a local attraction wherever he went, leading the coffee chain that managed multiple shops in town to rotate him around location to location, a boon to underperforming and under-trafficked franchises like the one in our building. The line was out the door whenever he was working, with people wanting a selfie, wanting to see him bumble behind the counter with surprising grace in spite of hands that made the espresso machine look like a toy, or just wanting a glimpse at the pipe running down his khakis that was conveniently around eye level and impossible to miss. If you were lucky, he liked you, and the timing was right, you could get an up close and personal experience. I was proud to say I was one of the lucky few ‘regulars,’ and in my recent metaphysically horny state, he had hit just the spot in one of the backrooms. Though it still, somehow, didn’t quite measure up to what Lee could throw down.

But now I was back in the evil snowglobe, feeling like I was facing punishment from sharing what I thought would be exciting new data.

“So, you just talked, and Synt followed suit?” asked Armand, jotting hurriedly into a notepad.

“Sort of? There was kind of a crescendo, maybe. Like Synt found a conduit through my vocal chords and we had to get into the groove. But I don’t think it’s automatic, like I couldn’t just say Armand grew–”

“Whoa whoa whoa, let’s slow down,” Armand cut in, hands splayed in caution. “Before you put a whammy on me, too.”

“I mean,” I gestured to his overstuffed crotch, “I kind of already did.”

“Oh! Oh wow,” Lee cut in, rubbing his chin as Armand stood speechless and gaped at his prodigious bulge. “But from your perspective, Armand, from both of our perspectives, it’s…”

“Always been that way,” Armand finished, cheeks reddening. “Or at least my entire adult life. It would make sense. I’ve never had a medical professional successfully explain my…condition. I just sort of got used to it, I guess. Or I was always used to it.” 

“Exactly!” I exclaimed, clapping my hands. “So we’re getting it now. It’s all about multiplicities of temporal perspectives. We’re all just cosmic threads weavin’ around each other.” I tried to visualize this with a rushed jumble of hand motions, which unfortunately didn’t land with the other two. “But I could probably fix it. I think. Maybe. I don’t think Synt would be on board for a reduction of any sort, so we may have to strategize.”

“No, there’s nothing to fix. I mean, it’s a lot to deal with, but I really am cool with it. My dating life is a mess anyways, and once you get known as that guy with the sixteen inch dick, the luster kind of wears off. I don’t really know what it's like being…normal.”

“The methods are messy to say the least,” said Lee, “but we may be starting to get somewhere. As much as we would love to keep investigating, further tests might have to wait. The park ranger guys are sending over some artifact they found and I think they’re due any minute.”

As if on cue, a nervous tap on the door reminded the three of us that as much as we would like to play around with my shiny new body morphing, reality shifting chaos magic we all had other work to do. I was getting up to take the back exit and head upstairs when I felt a tug in the direction of our visitor. My attention was pulled by some strong magnetic force toward the door as whoever was trying to enter awkwardly began pushing it open. Unconsciously, my foot steps shifted direction as the attraction felt stronger and deeper. And oddly familiar. Eventually, I recognized this feeling as Synt having their interest piqued enough to guide me to physically move in that direction. I was not a fan of this new development in our dynamic, but decided to see where it led.

“You need some help?” I offered, trying to play it off as me moving to give them a hand with the door rather than me being compelled for yet another mysterious reason.

“Nah, I’m good,” came a familiar voice, and as the door fully opened, I recognized Blake’s ass as it entered the room before the rest of him. “It’s just hard to maneuver this thing.”

It took me a second to realize he didn’t mean the globes of his ridiculous bubble butt, becoming the undeniable center of attention as he backed through the doorway, but actually the cart he was pulling with him. As the door swung back and he casually bounced it away with one hip, I couldn’t stop staring. I thought at this point I would be used to comically ballooning backsides, his most of all, but it looked even bigger than it had last night. In fact, as he entered the room the rest of him looked bigger too. If the seams of his pants and shirt sleeves had been strained beyond all reason last night, then now he was one strong sneeze away from public nudity. I thought maybe it was just the change of scenery, like how fitness influencers will take advantage of good lighting to show off a juicy pump, but I was pretty sure he was…bigger. Lee and I exchanged glances as if to wordlessly reassure each other that we weren’t just imagining that Blake was noticeably taller than he had been last night. The subtle accusatory squint of his eyelids was returned by a sharp look of denial from me. This wasn’t me, I thought. Unless, possibly it was. Maybe the growth last night had a slow release function, or some sort of chain reaction.

I mentally relayed Lee’s suspicious squint to Synt, who responded with a deep rumble of appreciation. They had a fixation on Blake, I now realized, and those two teaming up could be a disastrous combination.

“You want this in the uh, special circle?” Blake gestured to the circumference of sigils which were now glowing with an even higher brightness and frequency. That can’t be good, I thought.

“Yeah, that’s fine until we figure out what to do with it,” said Armand. “What is it, by the way? The report they sent in was kind of muddled. But then again, so is everything from the Marshlands.”

That place again. I was transported back to some spot on the map that I couldn’t identify, felt pushed out of space and time. Threads weaving, fraying, overlapping, forming fractal patterns down to quantum scales, building higher dimensional frameworks of cross-temporal superpositions, all coming together right there–

“...so we couldn’t really even tell how old it is, which is where we hoped you guys would come in,” Blake was saying. “Palmer, you got any tips?”

I snapped back to reality at the mention of my name. I had spaced out again, unclear for how long.

“I, uh, need to get back to my office,” I said. “I can look into it once I have the preliminary analysis from Lee and Armand.”

“You sure?” Blake asked, in that way that wasn’t so much a question but an unspoken invitation. I found my shoulders relaxing and my mind wandering. His easy smile was so intoxicating, but there was also a glint in his eyes. A hunger, as he seemed to casually look me up and down, almost as if he was seeing through me. Synt was laser focused on Blake, a low pressure system of gathering power causing the sigils to change color, which I didn’t even know they could do. He clapped a strong hand against my bicep (when had he gotten that close) and said, “Anyways, always good running into you. Let me know what you find.” 

Again, I felt that electric thrill run from his body into mine, except it was more like neurons firing. I had more clarity than last night and I could feel a complex undercurrent beneath that hunger, a need for something more, a vision of something bigger. The dam was once again threatening to burst, but I now had solid control over my own legs and began briskly heading to the door with a terse “Yep, I’ll keep you posted.”

I practically sprinted back up to my office, terrified of accidentally touching anyone for fear of producing another ten foot freakshow in the building for the second time that morning. My mind was a whirlwind of my own ever present horniness, mixed with Synt’s unrelenting power, and their clear frustration at being taken away from their favorite willing subject. Blake was becoming their muse, in some weird way, and we both needed a pressure valve. But underneath Synt’s frustration was something else. My own itch of power and possibility and the knowledge that I could so easily scratch it.

I tried to be productive at my desk that morning. My muscles would clench periodically as I held in waves of Synt’s magic, my body and mind fatiguing in the face of an unstoppable force. Taunting me, Synt would dangle images of possibilities so close within reach. How easy it would be for Blake to expand into a wall of juicy muscle, having to turn his body to get his shoulders through the doorway but having his bubble butt get stuck anyways. Armand was already cool with having a monster cock, maybe he’d appreciate an even twenty inches. That’d look amazing. And would it hurt to give Jamal a few more inches in height? Maybe even a foot? I imagined him walking into my office growing steadily taller, head bumping against the ceiling then punching through as plaster rained down–

I slammed my palms firmly on the table and stared for as long as possible at a wall of unread emails, comprehending not a single one.

“I need to get some air.”

—

I took the stairs and headed to the bike rack around the back of the building. Walking around aimlessly felt too risky in the state I was in. Too much proximity, too many opportunities for accidental direct contact. I had felt like I could see into Blake’s soul when he grabbed my arm, like I could’ve granted his wildest, horniest fantasies with a thought. I shivered at the knowledge that Synt would co-sign exactly this brand of recklessness. I felt like I was burning with static. I could practically see it dancing along my skin. I was in no condition to be milling about in a crowd until I got around to relieving even a fraction of this pressure.

“David!” hailed a voice nearby as I was squeezing on my helmet. I looked over to see Noah, my former student who had been blessed (or cursed) by Synt in more ways than one. Not only did he end up with a set of hips and ass cheeks that comically ballooned from his otherwise thin frame, but had also fallen into a pattern of stumbling into bigger and bigger dicks around town. I reasoned that the man with him was likely his latest beau, due not just to the hand wrapped around Noah’s tight waist, but the snake smuggled into his right pant leg. The spell, apparently, had not yet been broken.

“Noah!” I responded, “looks like you’re doing as well as possible after this last semester.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he said, rolling his eyes. “This reminds me, I need to chat with you again about that…positive feedback loop I’ve been dealing with.”

“I can imagine,” I winked, pretending not to notice the twitch of his acquaintance’s massive bulge as he shifted his hand down to rest on Noah’s round booty. Was Noah just magically happening on these already huge dicks or was he unknowingly bending reality every time he set his eyes on a new crush? Was there an upper limit? To any of this? Much to investigate, I thought, but resolved to cut the conversation short before my imagination once again got the best of me. “Shoot me an email, I’ve got plenty of time this week,” I said, speeding off away from campus.

I hadn’t had time to change into my cycling gear, not that those lycra shorts did anything to mitigate the size of my ass. I had made peace with the fact that my bodacious buns were simply always on display, in this instance encased in a skirt and tights, the bike seat completely disappearing beneath them. There wasn’t much I could do about it, and honestly, I liked the attention.

I felt free weaving through the city streets, regardless of the fact that I was fighting for my life against late morning traffic. It was a welcome respite from the stifling air of my office, the wind cooling me down and alleviating at least some of the magical irritation covering my entire body. I didn’t know where I was going, and didn’t really care. Plus, I was moving too fast to focus on any one person for long enough to give them an impromptu BBL. Instead, the cityscape just felt like waves of passing static, tiny glimpses of people’s fantasies and desires that were gone as soon as they were detected, with the occasional ping of attention from a pair of eyes that had locked on to my bubble butt as it cruised through their field of vision.

For the length of a few city blocks, one of these pings of focus didn’t seem to leave me, and as I came up at a stoplight I turned around to see another cyclist flashing me an awkward and quickly thrown together smile of greeting, as if to insist that he hadn’t just been ogling me up and down. 

“Can’t blame ya,” I said with a smile and nod, plus a wink for good measure. He was cute. He looked like he was a bike messenger by the rectangular pack balanced behind his shoulders, the well developed forearms and quads, and a look of practiced exertion that said he wasn’t just out here for the endorphins. I was sure he was perpetually in a hurry, so I figured I should literally get out of his lane while on my metaphysically horny break from work. 

I meandered right as he continued straight, letting my eyes linger on his meaty calves just long enough to almost crash headlong into a sporty coupe in a mediocre attempt at parallel parking. I swerved out of the way as he honked and yelled “Dick!” just loud enough for me to hear through the half rolled down driver's side window. 

What I said in response was not my wittiest comeback or even the most well thought out public interaction, but I had to offer a counter while still within earshot. But as I yelled “Super dick!” back at the finance bro emerging from his car, I immediately regretted the decision, feeling Synt’s power slip through the ether.

“You know I didn’t mean that!” I said aloud to the otherworldly being in my head. “You don’t understand epithets? Metaphors and what not?”

They sent the impression of a lazy shrug.

“What does super dick even mean? Like what did that do?”

Another shrug.

I was worried. What did I just accidently curse this guy with? Should I go investigate? What would that even mean? I thought maybe I could fix whatever it was. Use some string of words to undo whatever it is I just did.

I circled the block, parking my bike in front of the fancy building my unsuspecting victim had presumably been about to enter. It looked like it probably had moderate security and I had no plan of entry, and was definitely not dressed like I had any important business downtown. Entering through the big glass revolving doors, I locked eyes with the security desk, trying to look as casual as possible on my approach while they gave me a bored once over. In my performance of nonchalance, I glanced to the left and breathed a sigh of relief as I spotted my mark at the register of a lunch place on the bottom floor. With a curt smile to security, I changed direction, slipping into the line of the sandwich shop.

In the bustle of the lunch rush, I spotted him sitting on a stool at the bar along the window, drinking a green smoothie, scrolling on his phone, and pulling out a small laptop. I kept my eyes on him as the line progressed, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but he was the image of business class normalcy, perched on his stool in a designer suit and tapping away at some spreadsheet.

I picked up my sparkling green tea and bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich (I actually was hungry) and found that one of the few available seats left was, luckily, right next to him.

Incredibly, he seemed to be unaware that I was the person who had almost taken off his side mirror with my right hip, studiously ignoring me as I ate my sandwich and glanced at my phone to see multiple texts from Lee. I opened the latest one but was interrupted by a grunt of discomfort from my new friend. He shifted in his seat and glanced briefly at me, his cheeks reddening slightly as he continued working. A few minutes later, another shift in position, chugging the rest of his smoothie before folding his hands into each other and resting his head against them. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he glanced around quickly and held himself in a tense position, trying to focus on his laptop screen. 

When I was just about to return to whatever it was Lee felt the need to triple text about, he let out a heavy sigh as his breathing deepened, then glancing around again, carefully got up and turned towards me.

“Watch my stuff?” he asked tersely, the sheen of sweat on his face turning to visible beads.

That’s when I felt it. The now familiar resonant strum of reality warping magic that told me Synt’s power was at work.

“Uh, yeah,” I mumbled through bites of my sandwich, my eyes flitting down as I noticed a jump of movement along his pant leg.

“Thanks,” he grunted, turning to power walk to the bathroom, his bubble butt–which I didn’t remember being there before–swishing back and forth in his slacks.

I waited a solid twenty minutes–okay, more like fifteen–before following him to investigate further.

As I entered the bathroom, it was empty except for one occupied stall, the lemony scent of cleaning products overlaid with something musky and slightly metallic. There had been a soft moan coming from the occupied stall, which seemed to self-consciously quiet down in response to the sound of the door closing and my footsteps heading to one of the urinals. I did my business like normal as the moans slowly increased in intensity, interspersed with grunts and low utterances.

“Oof, fuck,” I heard a whisper, recognizing what little I had heard of the finance bro’s voice.

“Is everything okay in there?” I asked innocently with a light knock on the stall, knowing good and well some supernatural fuckery that I had personally caused was well underway.

“All good, I just–augghhhh!”

You’ll have to believe me when I say the stall door opened on its own.

My new friend was sitting on the toilet with his pants up and his fly open. He was breathing heavy and drenched in sweat, eyes widened in surprise as he saw me standing there, which shifted to a look of lust and urgent need as he drank me in. He seemed in visible distress, which probably had something to do with the rock hard dick that was reaching into the air just past his left shoulder. 

“Sorry, I–” he was cut off as it seemed to jump up another inch, spurting a glob of precum that fell to the floor. His hands slid desperately up and down the length of his shaft, each one barely able to reach halfway around. With another spurt of pre, I noticed his fingers slightly pushed farther apart.

“It…it won’t stop until I…”

“Not my first rodeo,” I cut him off, entering the stall fully and closing the door behind me. “Do you mind if I help?” I asked, gesturing to his angry purple cockhead.

He nodded enthusiastically in relief and anticipation, his face contorting as another spasm hit.

Even with my repertoire of accidental and deliberate magical augmentations, I could only extend my jaw so far, struggling to make it several inches down his massive member, starting slow and building with intensity.

A little help here? I asked Synt, who responded with gusto, my mouth and throat suddenly seeming to defy the laws of physics as I eased farther and farther down the shaft. Finance bro was blissfully unaware of the pocket dimension that his dick had now fully disappeared into as his head lolled back in ecstasy.

“No one’s…been able to do this…in so long,” he muttered as his breath became erratic and he began involuntarily thrusting into me.

I worked my way diligently up and down, now moaning along with him in pleasure as I swallowed his impossible schlong. His whole body began to spasm with burgeoning orgasm, blasting several shots of jizz directly into my throat that I hungrily gulped, hoping whatever this pocket dimension situation was could also handle his huge load.

I pulled myself off his dick, his mushroom head emerging from my lips with a pop. But as his eyes rolled back and his breathing continued to crescendo, I realized he wasn’t done. Those had actually been the initial volleys to what turned into a geyser of cum, gushing uncontrollably against the wall for at least another thirty seconds, rope after rope splattering behind him as he tried desperately to bite back a primal scream that would have definitely alerted the rest of the establishment (and maybe even the offices above).

Finally, he spent his load, visibly exhausted. He leaned his head back as his dick began to mercifully deflate, landing softly on his face and leaving a trail of slime as it shrank to a much smaller, but massive by any other standards, flaccid state. 

I heard a loud gurgle emanate from my belly full of jizz, along with a wave of disorientation that left me leaning against the wall for support. Noticing this, he came back to his senses, his blissed out grin fading into self-conscious clarity.

“This uh, happens sometimes,” he said, with an air of comically misplaced masculine professional decorum that was so out of place I may have actually laughed out loud.

“Sometimes?” I repeated, as he carefully maneuvered his donkey dick back into what looked like a specially made pouch running along his pant leg. My stomach gurgled again, louder this time, and the wave of disorientation came along with a full body spasm. I felt my muscles tensing and becoming denser with muscle as my body stretched against the fabric of my carefully fitted clothes, my ass expanding to press up against the door behind me. When I came back to my senses, I recognized the wave of disorientation as a sudden growth spurt, leaving me a couple inches taller. This might as well happen, I thought, taking note of how the top edge of the stall was now right at eye level. During my brief ordeal, finance bro had jumped up to support me with arms that were much stronger than they looked, a bold move seeing as I had already towered over him.

“...Yeah, no idea,” he said, as if referring to a WiFi outage and not a magnitude jumping jizz volcano baseball bat dick that also apparently had its own growth powers. “Hey, uh, text me sometime,” he added, then materialized a business card in his hand, and slipped it into my pocket. “You were amazing.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek and a jocular pat on my butt, then turned to stroll out of the bathroom like he hadn’t just painted the wall with cum.

Men. I managed to be exasperated in spite of being wildly horny, not to mention mildly worried about the magic mega wang that I had accidentally set loose on the city. Maybe I should follow up with him, just to fill him in on this whole situation, I thought. But it seems like he’s actually doing fine.

Mmhm, came a self-satisfied smirk from my companion.

I cleaned myself up as best I could, debating whether I should leave a tip with a note attached apologizing for the large puddle of jizz in the middle stall. As I looked myself over in the mirror, I noticed that while I had grown, it hadn’t been by that much in terms of basic physical metrics, but I seemed…more powerful. Like inherently I knew my musculature was much more capable than it looked–and it looked like I was verging on pro bodybuilder. “Super dick,” I mused, with a wry smile.

I came out to see my bathroom dalliance strolling coolly down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the window, heading back to the pretentious coupe that started all this. I tossed what was left of my lunch, walked out, grabbed my bike, and resolved to make it back to the office without incident.

—

Incident came ten minutes later as I pulled up to a stoplight and found myself parked behind my cyclist friend. Now it was my turn to fall into a trance at the sight of his toned, heart shaped bubble butt.

“Can’t blame ya,” he said with a wink.

And now it was my turn to blush as I was caught staring. My encounter with the finance bro had left me even more riled up with still no release, and I was losing any cool I thought I had.

“We’ve, uh, gotta stop meeting like this,” I said with a nervous chuckle as I caught his gaze.

“No, we can definitely keep meeting like this,” he retorted. 

“Cute and confident,” I said. So it was a meet-cute. “Aren’t you at work right now?” I teased. “Or is the messenger bag just for show?”

“For you, I’m on break,” he said with a defiant smile.

“Oh so this is just your workout,” I replied, deciding to test the waters for a little fun. “You’re not skipping leg day apparently.”

“Look who’s talking!” he exclaimed with mock surprise. “You sure you’re not an Olympic cyclist with those yams?”

“Yams? It’s all aesthetic, you’ve definitely got me beat.”

And there it was. I felt Synt’s power slip out, my eyes widening in realization. How did I not catch that? I thought.

Time–the relative timespace of this conversation between me and my bike messenger crush–seemed to slow down and shift textures. Through Synt’s extrasensory abilities, I could again see timelines breaking, shifting, and reforming in the space around the cyclist’s lower half. His quads, hams, and glutes–especially glutes, I noticed–seemed to pixelate and come back together as they found the path of least resistance to match Synt’s interpretation of my command. I stared, awestruck, as his musculature seemed to inflate in real time as it moved through temporal lenses, his cargo pants adjusting along with the growing shelf of ass overtaking his bike seat, until suddenly they were replaced with lycra, stretched tight across a colossal booty. Still the same heart shaped ass, just scaled up and disproportionately juicy on top of some serious hamstrings.

“Haha, guess so,” he said, with the air of someone used to people staring blankly at his huge cakes. “Honestly, I thought this bike gig would slim me down some, but it just seemed to make things worse.” He patted one round cheek, sending a jiggle through his lycra shorts that could stop traffic.

The light changed, signaling that the meet-cute was drawing to a close.

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said. “Name’s Devon.”

“Uh, David,” I responded, as he kicked off and cruised through the green light. I stood entranced by the ass I had just magically inflated, before I got myself together and headed off in a different direction back towards my office.

You know I didn’t mean that, I said to Synt, who didn’t seem to care.

---

I did feel somewhat relieved as I jogged up the stairs of my building, yet still in persistent need of some sort of relief. Finding the door slightly open, I was pleasantly surprised to find just the person who could tide me over.

“Lee!” I exclaimed. “Thank god you’re here. You down for a quickie?” 

“That’s not why I’m here,” he responded. “But, I mean, yeah,” he followed up, long dick jumping down his pant leg in anticipation. Lee lounged against my desk, his lithe body posted up casually as he flipped through some book that he had happened to grab off the shelf, probably bored waiting for my return. Instead of the usual easy smile with an undercurrent of indulgent lust, he looked all business, like he had an important message. “Did you get my emails? My texts?” he asked. “We had some…interesting preliminary findings from the artifact that Blake brought in. Wait, are you taller?”

“Interesting how?” I asked, stripping off my leggings before remembering to kick the door closed behind me. “And yes, I’ll fill you in on the latest.”

He shut the book, leveling a look of tentative excitement in my direction, briefly obscured as he whipped his shirt off. “We need to go do some fieldwork.”

[growth-opportunities]

While it had a hard adjustment to the sights and sounds and smells of our world, there was one thing that Thalwyn adapted to quite easily: food. Lembas bread could keep a grown man's stomach full for days but only the starving would describe it as "delicious." Sure, the elves in her home forest ate other things, but nothing compared to the succulence and opulence and sheer variety that the human world had to offer. Eating purely for sustenance was fairly common among her people, so the idea that an establishment existed purely to offer you as much food as you are physically capable of eating was appalling in some ways but intriguing in more.

There were, however, side effects to Thalwyn's gluttony. Her slender, waif-like, elven form quickly melted and softened, a layer of plush covering nearly all of her. Nowhere was the additional fat put to use better than in her curves. Her hips seemed to widen by the day, by the hour, until chairs with arms proved an indomitable challenge, fitting comfortably in them at the start of her meal and stuck firm in them by the end. Her breasts, however, were even more prodigious in their use of the food being pushed into her body at an alarming rate. Her breasts bulged and swelled in front of her, sloshing and wobbling with each awkward step. Elves are known to be light of foot, but now with so much extra weight on her body, each footfall brought with it a ripple upwards through the newer, softer parts of her. The flowing gown that she had worn when she entered this world had been more than enough to preserve her modesty. As the weeks went by, it became more and more of a struggle to keep it closed.

But Thalwyn couldn't stop. She refused to. The food tasted good and she was entranced by what it was doing to her body. She would keep studying this new "magic" for as long as she possibly could. She was determined to unpack the transformative secrets. No matter how long it took.

[bimbo-travel-blog]

Banana Butt 🙏

One of Bambi’s wisest philosophers.

Lots of people be askin’ how we can be happy knowing Bimburough dun brainwashed us! Cause we’re getting so much cock Duh!

Whoops sorry that’s a trained response *giggle*

Gawd my mouth is waterin’ now too for some reason.

It’s partly cause most ladies don’t even know they’s bein’ brainwashed. Seriously it soooooo “I would never cheat on my husband!” Honey yer husband is now yer twin sister and yer whoring her out to yer neighborhood so you can afford a self living stopper pole so you can get accepted as an entertainer at the eewy gooey club, cause you want to fuck that one trucker who says he goes there sometimes.

Like wut?

Seriously “sure I’m MAGA Makes. Americans. Grow. Ass.”

*giggle*

*giggle my ass off* even

Did ya’ll know I have my fingers in my puss right now?

Oh good, the camera is on, just checkin’ hiiiiiiii!

Wut?

Oh yeah philosophy. More like fill my sloppy, right? XD

Yeah Banna Butt sed it right. “I wanna mush mah mistresses face with muh big ol butt. I want that now, ya’ll. Don’t matter if I ain’t want it yesterday. It like, I think there for I am, dig? I think I’m a big butt banana slut, so I am. Duh? I don’t owe nothin to the twig bitch I once were, she wuddn’t gettin’ me no closer to Bambi, am I right? So think it through fer me, cause I’m too bum dumb to do it myself. Do I owe more to the twiggy girl who only sucked cock during her time of the month, or to the town that gave me allllllllll dis!”

Then she like spanked her ass, and twerked, but it’s hard to get that into a transcript!

Philosophy

[immortalmrwavell]

A Worthy Replacement - Part 1

(Original story posted December 14th 2022) This story has been significantly Updated!

Written for @bodyswappingandshit/@bodyswappingandshit-1

Glad to finally have the first part of this story back up! It’s one I know lots of you enjoyed back in the day. I thought about uploading all three parts of this story together in one post like I’ve been doing with other multi part stories from the past but honestly this story is just too massive. Especially now that I’m updating and extending it. So for that reason I’m keeping it separated into three parts. I’m even considering adding on a bonus epilogue that wasn’t part of the original! But with all that said, enjoy the story! ❤️

Read Part 2 Here! Read Part 3 Here! Read The Epilogue Here!

~~~

“No… fucking… way…” Was all Martin could say or think when he recognised the man who’d been working out across from him at the gym.

Recently Martin, a youthful 27 year old, had really been trying to get himself into shape. He’d been working out at home for some time now but after moving to a new town he decided it was finally time to get serious and sign up to one of the local gyms. The one he picked in the end was rather expensive but from what he could tell it was held in very high regard and had everything you’d ever need. More machines and equipment than Martin even knew existed, an amazing sauna, a large indoor swimming pool and more! That in mind he supposed spending the extra money on it would encourage him to go and make the most of it all.

Upon stepping into the gym on his first day as a member, Martin was of course greeted by the sight of hunks, jocks, meatheads and bodybuilders all getting deep into their routines. The aroma of manly sweat mixed with deodorant flooded his senses in a way that had him struggling to keep his dick under control. Getting a front row seat to all these men pumping their juicy muscles as big as humanly possible certainly didn’t help either. He was already having fantasies about worshipping some of these men. Kissing their biceps and massaging their thighs. Imagining how amazing it would feel to press his face between their meaty glutes. The thought alone was enough to make him drool.

Of course Martin tried to stay respectful and not stare, as difficult as that was, while instead opting to get on with his own routine. After all, if he wanted to be like all the hunks he adored, he needed to put in the work. With that things were going smoothly. He pushed through his exercises and was able to build up a good sweat in the process. However there was something that kept distracting him. Across the gym he couldn’t help but notice how a bunch of people had stopped to watch one particular dude as he worked out. Some were even going up and asking for pictures as he was resting while others had politely asked about workout and eating tips. He couldn’t see the man properly from where he was but he could tell the dude was big. Very big. Martin thought that perhaps he was an influencer or something.

Eventually his curiosity ended up getting the better of him. He finished his last set on the machine he was using before wandering his way over towards the man. If the guy was well known online, Martin wondered if it would be someone he recognised. That could be pretty exciting. He’d gotten there just as the man was doing some heavy bench pressing. He wasn’t able to get a good look at first but when the man put the barbell back and sat up, Martin’s eyes went wide with disbelief. No wonder people had been watching him this whole time. It was the Mr Olympia of classic physique! Chris fucking Bumstead!

From that point onwards Martin found it exceptionally hard to focus on his own workout. Always finding himself peeking over his shoulder to sneak glances at the renowned bodybuilding champion. He had to actively stop himself from trying to scan every inch of that titanic body as he watched beads of sweat drip down Chris’ massive frame, dampening the clothes he was wearing. Thoughts of running his tongue along Chris’ glistening muscles after a long session danced through Martin’s mind. Suddenly no other man in the gym existed. All he cared about was that pure adonis of a man. Suddenly Martin was thrown back to all the times he’d found himself laid in bed scrolling through Chris Bumstead’s Instagram while jerking his dick furiously. Now all those lustful feelings were bubbling to the surface ten fold! Martin had to try desperately to hide his painfully hard erection after that living sculpture of a man walked past him at one point, his scent wafting faintly through the air while invading Martin’s nostrils. A perfect blend of woodsy deodorant and fresh musk. Good god. Martin still couldn’t believe that perfect specimen of a man was only 2 years older than him!

Shortly after pulling off his tee to show off the sweat stained tank top underneath, Chris finished up his routine and headed off towards the locker room to change. Noticing this, Martin couldn’t help but stare from behind. Watching that wide muscled back barely contained by that tank. Eyes practically glued to the huge rounded muscle ass stretching the back of those shorts as Chris exited the main gym floor. Almost every part of Martin’s being was telling him to follow the bodybuilder in the hopes that he might get a glance at that glorious physique without a top on in person.

He didn’t wanna seem weird though like he was stalking the guy so he decided it’d be best to finish up another set of exercises first. Admittedly he sort of botched the form due to his excitement but thankfully nobody seemed to notice. With that however Martin swiped up his towel and water bottle before hurrying off the gym’s locker room as inconspicuously as possible.

Before long he found himself casually glancing down each of the aisles to see if he could find the one and only Mr Olympia he’d been drooling over. Unfortunately after checking most of the aisles, he started to believe that perhaps Chris had already finished getting changed and was long gone as there didn’t seem to be any sign of him. He must’ve slipped out somehow when Martin wasn’t looking. Just when he was about to give up, Martin noticed a pile of gym clothes sitting on one of the empty benches. He wasn’t sure why but for some he found himself oddly intrigued by the discarded clothes. Almost like it they were… calling to him? There was no way to explain the feeling. All he knew was that he had to get a closer look at those clothes.

He made his way down the aisle and towards the bench. It was only when he got closer though that he realised who they belonged to. That huge tank top, those massive shorts and the unmistakable giant sneakers next to them with gym socks stuffed inside. He couldn’t believe it! These were the very same gym clothes Chris has just been wearing! The gym bag next to them with the hunks name on it only confirmed what he already knew. Martin couldn’t believe it!

Did he go and take a shower? Or maybe for a swim in the gym’s pool? God just the thought of sneaking a peek at Chris’ naked body under a steaming shower or doing laps in the pool was enough to make Martin want to cream on the spot. But then something odd crossed his mind… Why would Chris leave his clothes out here in the open where anyone could grab them instead of putting them away safely in his locker??

———

A few minutes earlier…

Chris found himself stepping into a rather empty locker room with only a small handful of men getting changed or sitting around. Upon reaching his locker, he found the aisle it was located on was completely desolate. Or so he thought anyway.

He slotted the key in and twisted it before opening the locker and pulling out his hefty gym bag. He turned to place it down on the bench behind when he jumped in shock at the sight of a man who’d seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “Whoa!… Uhh sorry man I didn’t hear ya.” He said politely with a chuckle and that recognisable lisp of his. The strange man didn’t immediately say anything however, just staring and smiling as he ran his eyes up and down Chris’ body. “Ummm can I help you?… if you want a photo or an autograph or something I’d be happy to give you one…” As weirded out as he was now, the bodybuilder remained kind and polite as he shoved his t-shirt into the gym bag.

“Mr Olympia huh?… Incredible. You really are something. ” The man finally spoke in an almost unsettling yet buttery smooth tone. “And as a matter of fact you can help me.”

The more Chris examined him, the more this odd man didn’t look as though he belonged. He was a lean middle aged guy with perfectly styled salt and pepper hair. His face was framed by a well groomed beard that was a chestnut brown flecked with silver besides the hair on his chin that was a snowy white. The man was dressed in a gorgeous navy blue suit that seemed tailored to his body. The flawless jacket hugged a crisp pink shirt underneath that was decorated by a striped blue and indigo tie. A bracelet that matched his suit and shining silver watch adorned his left wrist. A pair of sunglasses hid a pair of dazzling eyes that no doubt matched the rest of his devilishly handsome visage. He was in good shape underneath that suit from what Chris could tell so he must've kept fit but… something about him was just off. You wouldn’t dress this immaculate just to get a workout.

By this point Chris was starting to get a bit creeped out by the whole situation but he kept his cool and played along. After all he was both a body builder and an influencer which meant he always had to put on his best face for the sake of reputation. “Okay? And how is that?” He responded carefully.

Just then the strange man beamed with a large grin. “Well I’m glad you asked! First things first, my name is Mr Wavell and I’ll be your friendly neighbour hood Warlock this fine day.” He claimed as he outstretched a hand towards the hunk in a respectable manner.

Chris was hesitant but he leant a hand to meet Wavell’s, a look of confusion plastered across his face. “Warlock?” He questioned while clasping the other man’s hand and giving it a firm shake. Part of his subconscious was telling him to just brush this guy off and get on with the day. He was clearly a bit of a nutter. Unfortunately he’d had the displeasure of dealing with his fair share of weirdos since becoming rather famous in the body building sphere. But like usual Chris’ kind hearted nature forced him to stay and hear what this strange Mr Wavell dude had to say.

“Oh don’t worry. You’ll understand soon enough big guy.” Wavell replied somewhat ominously as he let Chris’ hand go. “Honestly it’s not often that I experiment on men such as yourself.” He admitted, shamelessly gazing up and down Chris’ godly physique. “Famous men I mean. I play around with jocks, meatheads and bodybuilder’s all the time but never someone as prominent and well known as you. I can see why too. Your body is a true work of art. The very kind that should be carved into stone and worshiped for generations to come. And to have obtained such a physique without the use of any kind of magic is truly magnificent. I’ll have to be sure that whoever owns it next will keep it in peak condition.”

Chris narrowed his eyes in uncertainty. “W-what? What the hell are you talking about? Experiments? Owners? Magic? Look I’m sorry man I don’t know what this is about but it’s all starting to sound really freaking weird.” He chuckled awkwardly while taking a step back from the suited stranger. “I appreciate the… compliments? But I’ve got other things to do today so again if you want a picture or something we can do that but whatever you’re trying to buy or sell, I’m really not interested.” He’d finally reached his limit with all the strange stuff that Wavell was spewing.

Wavell sighed, a deep purple aura surrounding his body as he waved a hand towards the bodybuilder. “Oh you poor thing. Your compliance isn’t really a factor.”

Suddenly the mighty Chris Bumstead found that same purple energy coiling around his body in the blink of an eye and binding him in place like a muscular statue.Understandably Chris was freaking the fuck out. He tried with all his might to move even a single muscle but nothing responded. He was completely frozen in place.

“If it’s any consultation, I actually feel a little bad about this. I took a peek inside your mind and you’re actually a really sweet guy even when you’re not on camera. Most of the time I wouldn’t go out of my way to take from a guy as genuine and kind as you but…” Wavell reached out and placed his firmly against Chris’ enormous sculpted pecs and began to massage the thick muscle. “Mmmm… you’re just too damn gorgeous to resist. Don’t worry though. I’m sure you’ll grow to love what comes next in time. Everyone does eventually.”

Chris wanted to protest with all his might but not even his mouth was permitted to move by the strange energy binding him. It was impossible to scream for help, not that doing so would’ve made a difference. The only things he was able to move were his eyes that were darting around in a frantic manner.

“Well! Time for step two.” Wavell clasped his hands together with a smile. “But which piece will I store you in? Your tank top? Your socks maybe?” Wavell suggested as he inspected the gym wear Chris was wearing.

The body building champion had absolutely no clue what the hell this insane man was talking about and at this point he didn’t wanna know either. All he knew was that he needed to escape somehow. With that Chris scrunched his eyes shut and tried with every ounce of his strength to move one of his arms. A strained grunt rumbled from inside his throat as he fought against the purple energy but the most he could do was a slight bend in his elbow and a twitch of his fingers before he gave out. Despite how minimal the movement was though, Wavell seemed quite surprised.

“Impressive. That’s quite some willpower you’ve got there big man! Then again I suppose you’ve gotta have some serious mental and spiritual strength to maintain a body like that. I commend you but you might as well save your energy. You’re not going anywhere.” The warlock leaned in and kissed Chris on the cheek in an almost mocking fashion before whispering softly into his ear. “Besides, I’ve just figured out exactly what I’m gonna do with you.”

Without another second to spare Wavell crouched down only to grab the waist of Chris’ shorts and yank them down to his ankles, revealing the tight black boxer briefs underneath. “Ohhh wow…” Wavell muttered as he cupped the bodybuilder’s exceptional bulge. “It’s always the quiet and humble ones that are packing the most huh?” He teased while squeezing Chris’ package playfully. “Well I know for a fact that whoever ends up with this is gonna be a happy man.” With that Wavell stood up once again and looked the powerless man in the eyes. He could tell by the way Chris’ eyes were darting from side to side that he was trying his utmost to beg. Unfortunately for him no amount of begging was going to stop what was about to come next.

“Now. Are you ready?” The warlock asked with a growing smirk, one hand still firmly grasping the hunk’s hefty bulge. “I’ll take your silence as a yes.” And with that he sent a shock of magic that filled the fabric of Chris’ underwear, causing it to glow brightly. This in turn caused a rather intense wave of pleasure to ripple through Chris’ body originating from his boxers. His eyes couldn’t help but roll back as the wave of pleasure flowed over his entire frame before moving back towards his underwear again. And then it ripped out again. And again. It was like an ocean tide pulling back and forth. Flowing out across his body and then pulling back towards his now enchanted boxer briefs again. It was only after about 3 or so of these pulses that Chris began to feel himself getting… smaller? Almost as it was with each wave of magic that spread and pulled back into his underwear, part of his own body mass got pulled with it?!?!

The glorious muscular body of Chris Bumstead continued to shrink smaller and smaller as more of his being was converted into pure magical essence that became infused with his boxer briefs. It wasn’t long before he was even smaller than Wavell, a man he’d been towering over mere moments ago. He would’ve been terrified had it not been for the insurmountable euphoria that he was forcibly experiencing through it all. A euphoria so great in fact that he reached multiple orgasms! Jetting hefty load after load of cum that splattered and stained his underwear. It was so intense that he eventually faded from consciousness.

The very second Chris passed out there was a bright light that consumed what was left of his shrinking body and when it dissipated, the renowned body builder was nowhere to be seen. All that was left was his workout gear that fell to the floor in a sweaty heap, including the pair of freshly enchanted boxer briefs that now housed the sleeping soul of Chris Bumstead himself.

Mr Wavell leant down and scooped up the pile of clothes along with the socks and sneakers before placing them all on the nearby bench. Now there was just one final touch that had to be made. He waved a hand over the pile of clothes, placing another perception filter over the, that would make anyone who Wavell deemed unworthy of this gift unable to see or perceive the clothes. For example if by chance a roided out asshole happened upon them first, he would barely take any notice of them. Only those who were worthy of taking up the mantle of the kind and humble Mr Olympia would be able to see them. But with that Wavell decided his work here was done, turning himself invisible once again so he may sit back and simply enjoy the show. Opting to float up and sit atop the lockers and watch until someone received the present he’d left.

———

As Martin inched closer to the pile of sweaty gym clothes he’d stumbled across, that very same aroma he’d smelt back in the gym wafted over his nose. Yup those were Chris’ clothes alright. No doubt about it. He made sure to look left and right down the aisle to check that nobody was watching before sitting down on the bench beside the seemingly discarded clothes. It already felt as though his heart could explode with the anticipation alone. He just wanted to grab the tank top and press it flat against his face. But what if someone saw him? It was only his first day at this place and he didn’t wanna be labelled the gym weirdo who went around sniffing other dude’s clothes. But that smell… It was just so damn tempting. He checked around one last time before giving into his urges and swiping up the body builder’s tank top.

The next thing he knew Martin had a raging boner straining against his shorts as he held the damp tank top to his face. Unable to stop himself from deeply huffing and inhaling the strong musky scent of an alpha such as Chris Bumstead. Allowing it to overpower all of his senses and sink so deep that everything else faded away. Only him and the sweaty tank pressed against his nose existed in that moment. If there was a heaven, this is how he imagined it.

Slam!

The sound of a nearby locker closing tore Martin’s mind away from the haze with a sudden jolt. Luckily it seemed to have come from a different aisle. His face still went red however, praying that nobody had walked past and seen him. With a sigh he was about to set the tank top back down when something caught his eye. Inside the shorts was a pair of underwear that Chris must’ve been wearing. Already Martin’s mind was going a mile a minute imagining what the pouch of that gorgeous man’s underwear smelt like after a good workout. He just had to know! But he couldn’t risk anyone seeing him. A tank top was one thing but if he was caught sniffing another guy’s underwear in the locker room he’d be seen as a total perv and kicked out for sure.

Part of him thought of doing the right thing and leaving the clothes where they were but the urges of a horny gay man were a powerful thing which in this case Martin just couldn’t bring himself to ignore. So instead he settled on a plan. He scooped up Chris’ gear along with huge socks and sneakers the hunk had been wearing before dashing around the corner and locking himself in a private changing cubicle.

He knew what he was doing was wrong but he just couldn’t help himself! Before long the young and very horny gay man had stripped off his own clothes and begun jerking himself off furiously while digging his nose into the tank top once again. The smell was still so fresh. New sweat that’d only just poured from that Adonis’ body and absorbed into the fabric. It smelt fucking delicious and Martin wished he could savour it forever.

Soon after that his eyes settled on the huge size 13 sneakers. He grabbed one and yanked the white gym sock out from inside before burying his nose in it. It was incredibly damp with sweat and had an even stronger scent than the tank. But that only made it more intoxicating. After a good few minutes, Martin was only able to pull himself away from the sweaty sock to stuff his nose inside the massive sneaker it came from. And somehow that smell was even more pungent! No wonder. It was a heady mix of old sweat from previous workout mixed with the new fresher scent of today, forming an aroma so mind numbingly powerful that Martin could barely control himself. He had to let go of his cock for a moment just so he didn’t cum on the spot.

From there he must’ve spent god knows how long edging himself in that cubicle, trying not to cum or make too much noise. He switched feverishly between deeply inhaling the sneakers and rubbing the socks all over his face. Chris’ scent was so damn addictive. He found himself fantasising about Chris standing in the cubicle with him, imagining that it was actually the dreamy hunk himself who was holding the massive sneakers up to his face and forcing him to sniff it. The mere thought was enough to have him leaking a constant stream of precum.

It took a good long while but eventually Martin decided he’d had his fill of the sweaty socks and sneakers, for now anyway, and decided to get onto the main attraction he’d been saving until last. He glanced over at the shorts with a lustful grin. Without hesitation he dove his hand inside them and fished out the pair of black boxer briefs that were hidden inside. His pervy mind was already racing at the idea of sniffing both the front and back of them. But just as he was about to dig in he noticed something odd.

The pouch. It seemed damp. At first he thought it was just Chris’ ball sweat but it was more than that. It was… sticky? Curiously Martin checked the inside of the boxers and his eyes went wide. There was no way. That couldn’t be what he thought it was right? Pooled inside the pouch and partially absorbed into the fabric was an unmistakable sticky white substance. With his heart now beating out of his chest, Martin dipped a finger inside and scooped some up before sticking it in his mouth. There was no doubt about it.

It was cum.

Martin had just tasted Chris Bumstead’s cum! And it was delicious!!!

A million questions were racing through his mind right now. The biggest ones being: why the hell had that hunk of a man shot a load while at the gym? And even more importantly, why had he left his cum-filled underwear out for just anyone to find?! It didn’t make sense at all. When would Chris have even had time to do that? Not to mention Chris didn’t at all seem like the type to do something like that. Deep down a part of Martin’s brain was telling him this was fishy. Unfortunately that part of his brain was completely drowned out by the rest of his mind that horny beyond imagination right now.

“Oh well… If he’s that careless then I’m sure he won’t mind if I clean up his mess.” Martin muttered to himself while licking his lips.

He gently raised the boxers up to his face, grinning down at the soaked pouch before him. He was already starting to salivate at the sight. Martin always wanted to taste a bodybuilder's load and now he had the best of the best. Top of the line alpha male seed. And so, without another second of hesitation, Martin dove his tongue into the pool of fresh man milk and started licking away. He immediately found himself shivering with delight at the immaculate taste. Sure he’d tasted cum before but it was nothing like this! He could drink gallons of this stuff! Before long he was lapping it up like a feral animal! He had to make sure that he got every last drop of delicious stud cum. And just when you’d think it couldn’t get any better, the flavour was even further enhanced by the taste of Chris’ sweaty balls mixed in.

By the time he’d finished lapping it all up, Martin was a hot mess. He found himself sitting with the underwear draped over his face, sniffing and tasting the delicious groin sweat from it idly. With a belly full of Mr Olympia grade cum, all he could think to do now was wrapping Chris’ damp tank top around his ridiculously hard cock and jacking it until he burst. And that’s exactly what he did, pumping away as he lost himself completely in all the smells and sensations. Edging as much as humanly possible while trying to savour the moment as much as he could. It didn’t even feel real. He thought that at any moment he was gonna wake up back home in his bed after having the best wet dream of his life. And yet he didn’t. This was reality.

Martin was just about ready to shoot his load and glaze Chris’ tank top with it when he was stopped by the perfect idea that suddenly popped to mind.

Next thing you know he’s jumping up off the seat and smiling giddily as he glances at the cubicle mirror. There was just one last thing he had to try before he stuffed these clothes into his gym bag to take home and treasure forever. He had to wear them.

He didn’t waste any time. He began by snatching up the boxer briefs again before stepping into them and pulling them up over his ass. Admittedly they looked more like baggy boxers on him than fitted boxer briefs. They were mainly being held up by the waist band and the tent his dick was making in the front. The feeling of which sent shivers up his spine as the tip of his cock brushed against the dampness where Chris’ load had been. Then after taking a second to appreciate how amazing it felt to wear Chris Bumstead’s underwear, Martin swiftly moved on by grabbing the shorts next. He slid his legs inside and pulled them up before securing them in place by tying the drawstrings tightly. Once again something that would’ve been ordinary gym shorts for a hunk like Chris looked more like huge basketball shorts on Martin. That didn’t make it any less hot though. This was then followed by him slipping the tank top over his head in one smooth motion. It slipped off his shoulders once or twice but he eventually got it to stay in place. At last he was able to bask his upper body in the warm musky aroma of the tank top in the hopes that it would stick to him. After that, all that was left was footwear Chris had left behind.

The huge damp white socks were first. After giving them each one last quick sniff, Martin reached and pulled on each over-sized sock, drenching his feet in Chris Bumstead’s sweat. He couldn’t help rolling his eyes a little in ecstasy at the mere feeling. Once he’d had a chance to enjoy wiggling his toes inside the sweat stained socks, it was time at last for the sneakers. Getting to slip his average sized feet inside those enormous things felt like an orgasm in of itself. He tried his absolute best not to bust as he felt his socked feet suddenly being wrapped in the hot sweaty musk that was trapped inside those pungent sneakers.

And with that his naughty little cosplay was complete.

After all that Martin could only grin cheekily as he looked at himself in the full length mirror. Sure the size difference might’ve made him look like a kid swamped in his dad’s clothes, but he couldn’t deny that it was still hot as fuck. Especially knowing that he was wearing the exact same clothes Chris himself had been wearing less than an hour ago. The adrenaline pumping through his system right now had Martin on cloud nine as he committed every detail of this to memory.

“What’s up? My name’s Chris Bumstead.” He snickered at his reflection while trying his best to imitate Chris’ voice.. “I bet you’re wondering what my secret to looking like a muscle god is. Truth is I just get really horny while working out and bust a nut after my session. Totally helps the gains.” Martin continued half mockingly as he flexed one of his arms, imagining it was Chris showing his mouthwatering biceps. He continued to mutter all sorts of pervy things and imagine it was the real Chris saying them all the while listening to make sure nobody outside the cubicle overheard him. Little did he know that one person in particular had seen and heard everything.

Wavell had watched idly as Martin had crept over to the pile of clothes earlier and swept them up. It’d been a treat getting to see this horny young man goon for around half an hour over the famous bodybuilder’s scent. Honestly Wavell couldn’t blame him one bit. After all he’d given Chris’ clothes a quick sniff as well before leaving them to be claimed and that scent was divine. “Now that he’s wearing them it should start any second now…” Mr Wavell mumbled to himself as he watched Martin curiously. And as if on cue, the black boxer briefs began to emit a soft purple glow. “Yuuup… here we go.”

Martin didn’t seem to take any notice of the glow at first as it was concealed underneath the shorts. He only noticed something strange was going on when the magic glow became bright enough that its light began to seep out of his stolen shorts. “H-hey what!? What the h-hell?!” He was about to pull off the shorts in a panic to see what was going on down there but before he had the chance there was a shooting sensation that flooded his body like a lightning bolt, causing him to seize up a little. “Uuuuuoooaaahhh… What the… fuuuuuuuuck…” Martin groaned without much control. He felt an indescribable mix of pain and pleasure that sparked through every nerve and muscle in his being. His brain struggled to keep up with the sudden overstimulation and couldn’t decide whether it loved or hated the feeling.

He would’ve been more worried about this had it not been for the rising heat in his chest. He could barely comprehend the feeling. It was like… something was building itself up? Martin only realised what was truly happening when he glanced down at himself to see that his once unimpressive chest was now surging forwards with muscle in pulsing waves of growth. He could hardly believe his eyes as he watched himself grow a hefty pair of pecs that began to slowly fill out the front of the stolen tank top. As they expanded he could feel his torso stretching and broadening slightly to accompany his growing chest until they reached the size of massive watermelons! The shock of it all caused Martin to stumble a little before falling onto his hands and knees with the weight of his new meaty muscle tits weighing him down. They looked bizarrely out of place on his small frame but not for much longer…

“What t-the fuck… Is h-happening… to meeeee?!” He just about managed to grunt out while attempting to pull himself back up but to no avail. Not when his back suddenly decided to follow the same example as his chest. After his pecs, the rest of his growing torso upper body kicked into full gear with its fantastical growth. Ridges and contours of hard earned definition began etching themselves onto Martin’s back as it grew huge and wide with newfound muscle! His arms were forced to spread apart some more as his lats flared out like the wings of a true bodybuilder. Before Martin could even comprehend that however, his shoulders ballooned into monstrous cannonballs that only served to widen his upper body further. Even his traps bulged and expanded before his neck thickened into. Suddenly the sweaty tank top wasn’t hanging off him so loosely anymore…

His confused moans echoed not only through his little cubicle but across the entire locker room. And yet nobody seemed to take any notice. Not even as he let out a roar when his arms and hands started to grow. He watched as his fingers stretched longer, each digit thickening as callous’ began to form along his expanding palms. Marks to symbolise years of long hard dedication to the gym. Even more eye-catching however was the sight of Martin’s once average looking arms beginning to hulk out as veins snaked up his inflating forearms while his biceps and triceps swelled to sizes bigger than he ever could have dreamed of. Soon enough his biceps and triceps had bulked up to monstrous sizes with his forearms following suit. Even his hands weren’t safe as they thickened up.

Martin gritted his teeth as he felt what little fat he’d once had around his belly evaporate to make way for a thick and powerful set of abs that cobbled themselves onto his stomach, Martin was given a few seconds of momentary relief to catch his breath. “M-my body!? H-H-How!? I don’t… I…” He stumbled through his words in a panic, not knowing how the hell to even begin articulating his feelings right now. Especially as he glanced up into the mirror, still kneeling on all fours. His build looked like that of a human gorilla with the comical size difference between his gigantic upper body and relatively small lower body in comparison. In fact he doubted he could even stand properly as he was!

It didn’t take long for the transformative heat to return in full force. For as freaked out as he was right now, Martin didn’t know if he should be worried or relieved. Regardless, the intense sensation began to focus itself on his lower half. More specifically his ass first which didn’t waste any time blowing itself up with newfound mass. What was once a fairly average backside ballooned into a massive bubble butt carved from thick muscle that could harden into buns of steel with a single flex. He even let out a long and pleasurable moan as his asshole found itself tightening significantly. Suddenly the stolen shorts and briefs he was wearing looked far less baggy than before, now stretching over his thick bubble ass rather nicely.

Just then his eyes went wide with both fear and a little bit of underlying excitement after feeling where the warm sensation had shifted to next. “Oooh god oooh fuuuck…” he groaned nervously as it focused on none other than his cock and balls. Thankfully, just like the rest of his body, even they started to expand rapidly. His balls grew into a pair of huge cum-filled alpha male that only churned the most premium cum imaginable. Meanwhile his already hard cock engorged into a girthy ten inch anaconda, that didn’t just fill but stretched out the pouch of his stolen underwear perfectly! Feeling this Martin couldn’t help but allow a dumb grin to spread across his face. “Ughhhhfff… I’m huge huhuhuhuh…” He chuckled as the now much larger and obscene tent in his shorts bucked excitedly.

He’d become so distracted by the size of his new manhood and crown jewels that Martin almost didn’t notice his legs starting to get absolutely juiced. It started slow at first with his thighs and calves pulsing with a tiny bit of extra size and definition. It wasn’t long however before a strained growl escaped his clenched mouth as both legs began stretching out longer, bumping him up to a staggering 6’1. Something he’d soon find out when he was eventually able to stand up. But as soon as his legs finished elongating, his quads and hamstrings erupted with an explosion of bulging muscle mass causing another roar to escape his lips. In mere moments he’d been granted the thighs of the century but it wasn’t done there. Moments later Martin found himself cooing in pleasurable discomfort as his calves pumped up to the size of footballs while looking hard as diamond. Finally Martin’s body was starting to look proportionate again but there was one last part of his lower body that needed changing.

Finally his toes started to curl and wriggle inside the hot sneakers. Right now they still felt like clown shoes on him but not for much longer. Martin was just about able to stifle another moan as his feet started expanding, growing longer and meatier by the second. The free space inside Chris’ sneakers swiftly began to fill as even the sweaty white socks started to fit better around his enlarging feet. Growing upwards from size 9 to size 10 then 11 and even 12!? Only stopping when his feet finally fit snugly inside the enormous pungent size 13 sneakers! At last Martin had the exact kind of huge manly feet he’d secretly dreamt of either having or worshipping.

By this point Martin simply looked like a hulking bodybuilder version of himself but that would soon change. All of the distinct features across his body that made Martin unique began to fade only to be replaced with unique qualities of another man. Whether those features be blemishes, body hair, tattoos or even the tone of his skin! The only semblance of his old self left now was his head. Though, judging by the way his face was starting to heat up, that likely wouldn’t be the case for much longer.

It began with his neck bulging a little, his adam’s apple changing and altering his voice in a way that made it drop a couple octaves. That was the least concerning of the right now though as his facial features started to shift. His jaw began to widen as Martin’s once soft chin squared off with a sharp masculinity. His cheekbones rose up slightly, forming an angular structure in tandem with his jaw that was taut and defined. His brows thickened while his eyes took on a newfound mix of softness and intensity. The eyes of a kind beast. His nose broadened slightly as it tapered into a strong bridge. All the while his changing features made sure to reposition themselves as even his head reshaped slightly. As soon as they were all in place, thick stubble broke out across his larger jaw which swiftly grew into well groomed facial hair that framed his new handsome mug perfectly. Even his hair restyled in process while lightening in colour from black to a rich brown.

After all that his mind was spinning like crazy but the good news was that whatever had been spreading through him and changing his body had finally dissipated, leaving him on the floor sweaty and exhausted. He gave himself a moment to gather his strength before pulling himself up off the ground.

He was disoriented to say the least. His new body trembled slightly as he pushed himself up onto his massive new feet that filled out Chris’ large sneakers perfectly now. He stumbled for a moment as he found his balance with all this unfamiliar weight before looking down at his enormous hands. Needless to say he was still in shock over it all. Looking down at himself, Martin no longer saw the lean average build he was used to seeing everyday. Instead stared down in awe at the huge hulking form of a professional bodybuilder. Huge hefty pecs, colossal biceps, hulking thighs. All of which allowed him to perfectly fill out these massive gym clothes. The real shock came however when he finally glanced up to look in the mirror once more…

“Holy fuck!” He shouted with a stunned look on his face. Only it wasn’t his face anymore. Staring back at him was none other than the three time classic Mr Olympia himself! The very man Martin had countless saved pictures of for jerking over. The hunk who’d starred in more than one of his wet dreams over the last few years. There was no mistaking it. His hands shot up towards his new face, inspecting his features to be sure they were real before running his hands through his hair and beard. This sculpted body… This gorgeous face…

“I-I’m… I’m Chris fucking Bumstead!!” He announced, almost not believing his own words as they spilled out in a new unfamiliar voice.

Mr Wavell had witnessed the entire thing go down, invisible as usual. “Mmm… now that was hot.” He hummed to himself as he watched as the new hunk admired his reflection with glee and disbelief. “Maybe I should stick around for a while and see how this plays out.” He shrugged. It was always fun to watch how his subjects adjusted to their new lives and bodies.

[bodybeyondstories]

Just ignore it - 3

David realizes he may have overestimated his ability to handle the newly adopted deity in his head. In trying to figure out how to direct an unlimited supply of body transforming chaos magic, he discovers the power of words, leading to some interesting developments at the bar and in Lee's lab.

1 | 2 (Previous) | 4 (Next)

MaleTF // Ass Expansion // Dick Growth // Growth // Suggestion // nsfw

5688 words

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A Tuesday night during Winter Break was not the liveliest time at our usual haunt, the Cockatrice, but Lee and I weren’t complaining. We could gossip and scheme in peace in our back corner booth, a spot we so consistently occupied that the bartender, Jaime, jokes that our butt prints are permanently in the seats–which, in light of recent events, is probably true. As Lee had pointed out to my chagrin, the hemispheres of my ass had successfully carved out a noticeable dip in the cushion that would set a normal man off balance. Yet another reason the back corner booth was consistently ours to occupy. With the semester having ended and most of our colleagues having fled town as soon as grades were submitted, it was especially sparse, except of course, for the new regular to our little booth chats, Blake.

I had given just the essential details to the class about the extra dimensional reality warper that was seemingly auditing for most of the term, winning their silence with automatic As, no term paper, and any reference or letter of rec for any reason. I made myself available as a resident expert if they wanted to learn more about this exciting new research opportunity tied to my being through the astral realm. And of course, if they needed guidance on any unintended side effects, from wardrobe malfunctions to unwanted attention. Noah, for one, had developed a similar level of insatiability as my own and was tearing through every available hung top in the city, but had also developed a knack for coming across progressively bigger and bigger dicks; a pattern that was verging on unrealistic. I made a note to investigate further, but encouraged him to just slow down before we had an epidemic of dicks just as unwieldy as my superhung fuckbuddy sitting across from me.

The rest of the semester was relatively uneventful after I explained the situation. I decided I might as well use it as a teaching tool, one of the more extreme examples of what one might encounter in this line of work. I didn’t name Logan, though, for the risk of him drawing the ire of his colleagues. However, after some initial discomfort and surprising ambivalence, they were mostly okay with the changes, even appreciative, though they may not admit it directly. But golden boy park ranger Blake was especially enthusiastic, not to mention deeply interested in all these magical happenings. To the point where his own disproportionately meaty butt was leaving its own comical imprint in the booth next to my own. 

Blake became a fixture of our weeknight scene, eager for the latest updates from Lee’s lab, which had begun to research the power of my new mental roommate. Trying to understand the unfathomable deity living in my head was slow going, but I had figured out that while they don’t have a name for themself, or really a concept of naming that makes sense to us, they deigned to experiment with some sort of grammar of identification, a small part of which is interpretable in our dimension as Synt. Blake was usually in the field during the day, so would join us after hours to get caught up, even going so far as to jot down notes and ask questions we hadn’t even thought of. He was a de facto research assistant, and at the very least this whole ordeal had gotten someone actually interested in our little corner of the world. Apparently, he’d also been chatting with Logan about some mystical archival work (I really should pay more attention to what Logan actually does). But this evening he was getting excited about his own neck of woods (pun intended) with something brewing in a local forest reserve.

“It’s one of the old ones that got absorbed into the current system when they modernized it,” said Blake, leaning forward slightly with an air of playful conspiracy, his dense biceps straining against the cuffs of his sleeves. “Not entirely public property, but not really owned by anyone anymore either. We basically have de facto jurisdiction,” a phrase he pronounced with uncertainty, “over the Marshlands.”

I wasn’t familiar with this place–admittedly I didn’t get out enough–but I dissociated as a vague image popped up on my mental map of the region, carrying a resonance that felt like a string being plucked. As I sat with this, I was aware that Blake and Lee were carrying on a conversation without me but sound and light went slightly opaque as I tried to focus on this image of…a forest clearing? And some figures that looked suspiciously like–

“Palmer!” I was brought fully back to reality by a forceful slap on the shoulder from our park ranger friend sitting next to me. Blake quickly had an apologetic look on his face that said he hadn’t quite figured out his own strength. 

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “Zoned out. What’d I miss? The forest?”

“Nah, we moved on to the BBL allegations,” said Lee, with a smirk.

“I’m just sayin’ my leg days are legendary these days,” said Blake, hands splayed in mock humility. “I don’t blame ‘em for thinking something’s up. You know it’s real because I keep maxing out machines at the gym and having to scrounge up more and more plates. It’s starting to draw attention,” he chuckled.

“There’s still a lot we don’t know about the changes that Synt caused,” I offered, mentally putting on my researcher hat.

“Is still causing,” interjected Lee.

“Yes, still,” I said, suddenly feeling very self conscious. When I invited Synt to give Logan a break and join forces with me, I may have overestimated my ability to keep them reined in, and it was becoming a full time project just to keep their power from leaking out into this world at a reasonable trickle. Most of the time, I could relieve little bits of pressure here and there, resulting in acquaintances and strangers getting a little boost in passing; something to fill their pants a little more that they wouldn’t complain about. This got tricky when it comes to people I was not only intimate with, but vulnerable with. Hence why Lee’s lithe, muscular form not only filled the other side of the booth but looked downright ethereal. And yet another reason Blake enjoyed spending happy hours parked right next to me. He was, after all, enthusiastic about the situation.

“Not that I’m complaining,” said Blake. He leaned towards me slightly with a smile that was verging from friendly to flirtatious. “I look better than I ever have. Better than I thought was even possible, all thanks to our mutual friend.” He gave me (and Synt) a wink, allowing his ripped forearm to brush lightly against mine before pulling back at the static shock that visibly–and possibly audibly–jumped the centimeter between us.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no problem’,” he said, getting up and turning to the bar. “Y’all want anything?”

“I’m already at my limit,” I said, “but thanks.”

“Two-drink Tuesday,” added Lee, holding up his index and middle finger, as if that wasn’t something he had just made up. Nevertheless, I appreciated the support. Getting shlammered is no longer an option when you have immediate access to an unbelievable reservoir of chaos magic. Something Lee was constantly reminded of by the trouser snake bulging down the length of his left pant leg. 

What didn’t help the situation was that Blake was really taking his time in getting to the bar, swishing his hips back and forth as he moseyed over to Jaime. The park ranger uniforms are a flattering, relaxed fit, but Blake was bursting out of his. The khakis were stretched tight across his bubble butt and quads and the button up couldn’t be buttoned all the way against the mass of his pecs and shoulders. He was a wall of dense muscle, body so sculpted from the realm of fantasy that it was almost a crime for him to even try to wear clothes in the first pl–

I knew what he was doing. He, obviously, knew what he was doing. And most importantly, the reality-altering minor god that had tied themself to me knew full well what he was doing.

We can’t keep doing this, I said to my mental roommate. He’s getting hooked.

Hooked? came a voice like tectonic plates sliding against each other.

Like, he’s enjoying these changes too much. He keeps trying to grow more and more, I worry he might go too far.

Too far? It had become clear that they had no conceptualization of what this meant, but they were starting to figure out what one might call moderation. I felt a small nudge of encouragement as if right behind my shoulder blades, but a small nudge from Synt was like a cruise ship lightly tapping against a wooden pier.

Okay, but just a little, I thought. It’s about finesse, just like we practiced.

Synt was a powerhouse to say the least, and I wasn’t so much tapping into their reservoir of chaos magic as I was slightly loosening a small pressure valve. My fingertips sparked lightly as I felt the peculiar taste of raw possibility in my mouth, like a battery on the back of my tongue that crackled down around my vocal chords. I was focusing on Blakes’s broad shoulders and muscular backside at the bar. His overdeveloped glutes defied gravity, perched like two globes above his hamstrings. 

“Those could really do some damage,” I muttered under my breath. I imagined him at the gym, maxing out the machines as a warmup, having to stack weight after weight just to get a good pump. The blood rushing to his strained muscles as they repaired themselves supernaturally fast, swelling against the overstressed fabric until it couldn’t take anymore. At the bar, Blake was adjusting his waistband surreptitiously, his massive butt seeming to grow in real time to match my slapped together tipsy fantasy until finally his work pants began to give way, splitting open in a few spots to hint at a pair of bright green bikini briefs fighting for its life over his round cheeks. Much to his chagrin–but eventually to his delight–whoever he was chatting it up with failed to take notice of his sudden growth. His hand had left Blake’s hip to adjust his own crotch, which was displaying a surprising, and apparently uncomfortable, bulge.

I maybe shouldn't have done this two drinks in. I was going for more juicy pump and less wardrobe malfunction. And I didn’t even predict the spillover effect in this new beau who just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Maybe I wasn’t being focused enough, maybe it was some sort of daisy chain from their erotic connection, maybe Blake was figuring out how to re-route the chaos magic with which I had touched him. But as he apparently took notice, he played it off, turning his fat ass to squish against the bar as he faced out, glancing my way with an appreciative wink.

“He can’t keep getting away with this,” said Lee, an amused tone entering his voice. Lee had caught on to Blake’s little trick early on and found it more funny than concerning. “He pulled a fast one on you again!” he laughed.

“He’s kind of doing me a favor,” I reasoned. At least I had a willing participant to let some of the pressure off while honing this new ability. “But he could just ask me directly.”

“Well where’s the fun in that?” asked Lee, his eyes dreamily following Blake’s ass as his new friend let him into the cool winter evening, presumably to explore their respective new assets at one of their places. His eyes flicked back to me as he danced across the word fun, and I tried to evade losing myself in the chocolate brown depths of his irises, captivated by a gaze that had become hypnotic. I didn’t get very far as I began to trace the curvature of his plump lips, the rightmost third of the bottom one lost behind a row of playfully biting teeth.

This was a game we had begun to play and one I would inevitably lose. He knew what he was doing. He knew I knew that he knew what he was doing. It hadn’t taken me long to realize that a side effect of the changes in Lee was that he was beginning to have a draw on people that was hard to resist. It hadn’t taken Lee long to realize that whenever I released Synt’s erotic power into the world, I needed to in turn release my own. Hot and bothered would be an understatement, the recent double whammy in tandem with the pheromones coming from my friend across the booth were sending me into overdrive. And judging by the way Lee kept shifting in his seat, he was in a similar state of excitement.  

Apparently Two-drink Tuesday also gets its name from the fact that we can’t make it to a third round without fucking each other’s brains out. Soon enough, I’m plopping my fat ass onto a table in a half forgotten supply closet that makes for a decent hookup space if you’re cool enough with Jaime. It was one of the plastic folding ones that are always already old and whose supports were groaning under my weight. The ambient light from the bar that made it down the hallway framed Lee’s expansive form as he lumbered in behind me, round shoulders rising just past the level of the door frame as he ducked in. God he was massive. As he pushed the door closed behind him, sliding us into complete darkness, I could still feel his outline moving toward me, as if he produced his own luminescence just outside of the visible spectrum. 

The bass of his voice filled the room as he chuckled, coming in for a deep kiss and sliding his fingers under the waistband of my leggings as our tongues danced. He was hungry. He pushed me back onto the table as he pulled my thighs toward him. The radiant heat coming off of his crotch became all the more enticing in the chill of the back room, tingles of pleasure echoing from my hole in anticipation. I arched my back as his fingers from one hand traced along my spine, the other tenderly beginning to peel the waistband of my leggings down the curves of my hips. His hands, at this point, were the size of dinner plates but moved with surprising grace. I could feel him resisting the urge to tear the fabric clean off as he struggled to get it over my colossal cakes and tree trunk thighs. A performance of agonizing slowness that had become part of our usual foreplay.

With my hole finally exposed, he slid in one finger, then two, opting for nimbleness and dexterity in light of the brute force that I knew was coming. He worked with a light touch, loosening me up as he undid his pants and slowly slid them off, bending slightly to finagle his prodigious cock free. I regretted not having hit the lights. The slow reveal of his member was a sight to behold, even in the weak fluorescence of the store room. With a grunt, I heard his pants fall to the floor, followed by a thwack against the underside of the cheap plastic table. I briefly fantasized about Lee’s gargantuan cock lifting the entire table with me on it, entertaining the notion that I really could make that happen if I wanted to.

Don’t you? Came a deep rumble from my psyche, the familiar crescendo of energy as Synt’s attention was piqued.

Don’t you start, I warned, still thinking of Blake and his now very well endowed friend. Finesse, subtlety, I added, knowing full well Synt cared nothing for the concept.

But didn’t I? In the haze of lust, I couldn’t shake the hypothetical of Lee with a truly impossible monster cock, and a corresponding body that shattered doorways rather than ducking through them. Was it Synt’s idea or my own? Was there a difference?

I was brought back to the present by a sudden absence. My hole ached with need as Lee’s meaty fingers were withdrawn, moving to caress my torso as he maneuvered his unwieldy dick into place, stroking up and down he pumped out a steady stream of slick precum. He was already starting to moan softly as he slowly worked inch after inch after inch of his schlong inside of me. Ever the scientist, he had last measured his growth at 15.25 inches, but personal experience told me it had definitely grown a little more since then. He settled into a steady pace, holding my body gingerly with his strong arms, leaning in periodically to nuzzle against my lips.

“Is that good?” he asked.

“Harder,” I muttered, the pleasure from his cock stretching my walls only leading to a deeper and deeper need.

“Like this?” he said, picking up the pace, letting more of his strength come through as he thrust into me.

“Harder,” I breathed, feeling the familiar taste of power, the crackle across my throat.

“Mmhm,” said Lee, audibly putting in some effort as he pounded into me, his gigantic hands digging into the globes of my ass cheeks, giving them a hard slap periodically.

“Harder,” I grunted, feeling some sort of release as I had the acute image of Lee’s pelvis corded with muscle, his hips and glutes flexing with vascularity as he pumped with inhuman power.

He made a sound that was some cross between confusion and pleasure, losing control as he jackhammered into me with animalistic lust. He dug his hands in under my thighs and lifted me up bodily, impaling me on his dick as his hips went into overdrive. He roared as both of us reached climax, shooting ropes of cum as his hips continued to buck involuntarily. After the last shudders of orgasmic release, he slowly came back to his senses, pulling his softening dick out of my hole.

“Was that…you?” he asked, his hands exploring a slightly more developed muscularity than what had been the reality earlier that night.

“...I think so.”

 —

I found myself in Lee’s lab early the next morning reflecting on what exactly had developed last night. Of course I was used to dipping into Synt’s power to change people, but this was different. More direct in a way I couldn’t put my finger on.

Lee was bouncing around with some extra pep in his step, his usual lumbering movements now imbued with much more grace and poise. One would find it hard to believe that just 12 hours previous he was rearranging my guts with wild abandon. His bubble butt filled out his form fitting khakis, glute and hip muscles becoming all the more apparent every time he squatted down to look at something more closely with his co-PI, Armand. At 5’6”, Armand was almost two feet shorter than the literal giant with whom he ran the paranormal research lab in the basement of the Center. I sat patiently, coffee in hand, watching them navigate the space and prep things for that morning’s procedures. 

Lee and Armand had taken it upon themselves to help me study how Synt’s power worked and what kinds of research implications it might have. Lee was  wildly enthusiastic about the possibilities presented by the deity in my head whose capabilities were seemingly only limited by the imagination of the host. Armand, if a little annoyed by being there earlier than the start of their usual workday, was more interested in how this development, if presented the right way, could secure some more reliable long-term research funding for the entire institute.

After all, the lab could use a makeover. It was kind of a drab, slapdash mix of alchemical and traditional scientific instruments, slowly cluttering into a maze of in-progress and semi-forgotten projects and experiments. One wall was an entire blackboard covered in a collage of equations, mathematical proofs, ancient grammars, bits of poetry, and a running list of takeout places that after many late night deliveries knew Lee and Armand by name. It at least drew the eye away from the rest of the color scheme, which consisted of specific shades of blue and sherbet-beige that one might see at a hospital or some sort of mystical DMV. But it was Lee’s high voltage magic lab. A cleanroom as he calls it.

I was crammed into an office chair at the center of a circle whose circumference featured sigils across multiple human and inhuman languages, each one glowing and fading lightly in slow sequence. I know a protective ward when I see one, and this formed an invisible, magically impermeable sphere. I sat in the middle of the snow globe, wondering what might get knocked loose were someone to come along and shake it, as Lee and Armand set about their final preparatory tasks. Lee was adjusting the angles of what looked like modified environmental sensors, following the wires back to his desktop to check that they were working. A cluster of wires ran not along the floor, but up to the ceiling and above the circle, dropping down and hooking into a brain scan helmet that sat lightly on my head. Armand was fiddling with what was certainly a decades-old fax machine, outputting a slow but continuous stream of paper while chittering softly to itself and occasionally jotting down little dots and symbols. According to Armand, it’s a device that “picks up magical grammars in ambient space and translates them into textual data for further analysis,” but I still think it just looks like a fax machine. He was not amused by this.

Our routine many mornings was me in the evil snow globe, relaying messages between Lee, Armand, and Synt as they tried to experiment with ways to activate, measure, or at least gather data on the texture of Synt’s magic. Bursts of erotic, body morphing energy were beyond impressive, but wildly unpredictable, and the research team wanted to start small and controlled.  We had made little to no progress. It’s not exactly a thing that I can just turn on and off and Synt doesn’t particularly care or even see the point of all this. These little science experiments are a blip on their radar and we probably seem like anxious primates hitting things with sticks. Which to a certain extent is true.

This morning was no different than the others. After enough failed attempts and false positives, Lee sighed, shaking his head at the monitor perched on his modified standing desk.

“I need some caffeine,” he yawned, loping off toward the exit and, I assumed, the coffee shop on the ground floor upstairs.

I was left with Armand, standing hands on hips, staring intently at his fax machine as if, with enough silent pleading, it may just start speaking English. It continued its indecipherable chittering, spitting out snippets of static on the page.

“Did you get a fax?” I asked. “From the cosmos?” widening my eyes for emphasis.

“It’s not–we’re getting basically background radiation and ambient noise. Nothing that really tells us anything,” he said, turning to glance at Lee’s computer. Armand awkwardly adjusted his lab partner’s standing desk, waiting impatiently for it to lower to his height. Eventually, he relented and grabbed a step stool just so he could read the data, shooting me an annoyed glance at having to have an audience for what seemed like a daily ordeal between them.

“So you didn’t feel anything this whole session? No surges of otherworldly power?” he asked.

“I felt hungry,” I responded. “Haven’t heard much from Synt.”

“But Lee said yesterday evening you did it without even trying,” said Armand, scratching the scruff on his chin in thought. 

My heart skipped a beat as I imagined Lee informing Armand about how he got his new power thrust pelvis as if it were anecdotal data, before I realized, “Oh, you mean Blake!”

“Yeah, that was his name. The park ranger guy. He’s been emailing me about some abandoned site out in the forest, I need to look into it. But you changed him just by what? Thinking about it?”

“Thinking isn’t really an apt descriptor of what Synt does,” I thought out loud. Armand had settled into a flat footed squat in front of the cosmic fax machine, on the edge of the ring of sigils. He was staring not quite at me, but at the space around me, as if Synt might materialize from my aura. “Sometimes it feels like the way their mind works is itself a sort of manipulation of space and time. Maybe the way all of our minds work, when you think about it.” The fax sputtered something out, but I couldn’t tell if it was in agreement or dissension. Armand’s eyes glanced at the printout then back at me.

“But you channeled that manipulation deliberately, right? Not just specifically to Blake, but specifically to his glutes.”

“Not just that, but yeah. I sort of focused the energy and…released.”

“And what did that feel like?”

“Like…singing?” The familiar feeling danced around my vocal chords. Synt perked up in anticipation.

“Singing. Ok.” Armand began to bounce slightly in his deep squat, which I’d come to realize meant he was on to something. As he mulled over this new bit of information, his eyes traced one of the sigils on the floor. Mine, however, were locked on to the bulge made more prominent by his stance. I could always tell Armand was packing something, and under ‘normal’ circumstances his bulge would be the focus of anyone’s attention, but it was an afterthought with Lee carrying around an unmistakable pipe in his pants.

“Have you done any work on metaphysical harmonics?” he asked.

“I’ve taught the basics, but it’s not something I deal with a lot in my research,” I said. “Bouncing different planes and dimensions off of each other by fiddling with the right frequencies and resonances, that sort of thing.”

“I’ll have to dust it off, but I think we do have the equipment for it,” said Armand. “Maybe instead of brute force reality shifting, Synt is actually doing something much more subtle and graceful, like moving through the pages of a higher dimensional flipbook. Which would explain why Lee, for one, is so good at carrying such big…changes.”

I don’t know why I said what I said next. I had that taste of possibility on my tongue and you know who was pushing at the back of my consciousness, dangling a small invitation to play with the warp of the universe, compelling me to blurt out “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got him beat.” With a wink no less.

A few things happened. One, I did manage to catch the feeling of that spark of power in my throat being released in a very specific direction, straight to the crotch which I had been trying to not look at in my early morning haze. Two, the fax machine printed out what looked like a poem of some mix of text, symbols, and glyphs before proceeding to rewind the spool of paper on its own and carry on printing blanks like nothing happened.

And three, while Armand was watching his precious sensor apparatus misbehave yet again, the bulge in his slacks began to bulge even more. Like, really bulge, unspooling down his leg. To the naked eye, it looked like he was somehow oblivious to the fact that his dick was expanding in real time to over twice the amount of space it had just been taking up in his chinos, the mushroom head becoming distinct against the fabric and his balls alone putting catastrophic pressure on the stitching along the seam. Except, if one would look closer–though that would be rude–they might notice the seam continuously adjusting on its own.

I watched his package inflate as he seemingly didn’t register the changes at all. But through the other sight of Synt’s perspective, it was as if the area around his crotch, and to a lesser extent the area around his body was pixelating, shifting, and falling back into place piece by piece over and over again, resulting in a visibly larger and larger bulge until…what?

You’ve got him beat, said Synt, quoting my earlier comment with what felt like a sly smile. I had been through enough by now to know that the next move was not to investigate the prodigious member in front of me but instead reflect on the timeline–New? Altered? Unclear–that I now found myself in. 

“I guess you’re right,” said Armand, “but Lee still wears it better.”

I guess I had gotten relatively used to it because we were co-workers, but Armand has by far one of the biggest dicks I’ve ever seen. Not that I had ever actually seen it, but the bulge snaking down his leg was obscene on his small frame. Even with what I assume were tailored pants, it was unavoidable and unwieldy, drawing stares and even comments in public, much to introverted Armand’s annoyance. I kind of felt bad for the guy. Rumor has it that when fully erect it’s a whopping 16 inches, somehow just slightly bigger than Lee’s schlong, which though impossible to miss, still blended in better on a frame that was two feet taller.

If what Armand had surmised was true, and Synt had let their hands play across a multidimensional keyboard, then we had been moving through proximal dimensions in which Armand wasn’t actually growing, but simply had a bigger and bigger dick for whatever reason, following the path of least resistance until he arrived at a size that beat Lee’s, and my offhand comment proved true. I loosely wondered when Noah would get his hands on him, if he hadn’t already.

Armand rose out of his squat to head to the board and add the metaphysical harmonics angle to the parking lot of working hypotheses. His gait was wider and a little awkward, but he wasn’t adjusting to his new size so much as he had already been used to it for years. Had I progressed to what Synt had been doing in my class this past semester? Moving beyond brute force changes and reworking the time stream itself? What else had I inadvertently changed about Armand’s life? What other elements of his social, romantic, or work lives had been altered in unpredictable ways by his inexplicably massive cock?

I needed more caffeine. As Lee came strolling back into the lab, I rushed past him, bounding up the side stairwell to the ground floor and the conveniently placed coffee shop. This wasn’t the most high traffic part of campus, so even during the morning rush, the baristas were bleary eyed and underwhelmed, snapping awake as I lumbered up to the counter.

“Oh, hi, what can I, uh, get started for you?” asked a barista across the counter who was not one of the usuals, made obvious by the fact that he clearly did not expect to be staring up at a man in leggings and a plaid skirt who loomed a full head taller than him.

“Just a dirty chai, and can you throw in an extra espresso shot…Jamal?” I asked, leaning awkwardly to read his nametag.

“Gotcha!”

I still felt disoriented, standing in a sleepy coffee shop having just manipulated space and time through the power of horniness. We may have finally cracked the code for at least a piece of the mechanism of what Logan had been doing originally on accident. The implications were staggering for our understandings of physics, metaphysics, reality itself. I had no idea how far the possibilities went and it sent a chill down to spine to think of what could happen on accident, let alone on purpose, but to be honest I felt powerful. And incredibly horny.

The familiar aftershock of arousal finally hit me, a deep, tingly, insatiable hunger that I quickly realized I would need to find some way to take care of this morning. Lee was right downstairs and this wouldn’t be the first time we fucked in some back corner of the basement. I wondered if Armand might want to prove the rumors true and hit a spot even his lab partner couldn’t reach. I shivered at the thought of almost a foot and a half of rock hard cock jutting off his slim, twinkish body, a completely absurd image of it bobbed in the air as he walked towards me.

“Um, excuse me?” Jamal, with an intonation that implied that hadn’t been the first time he’d tried to get my attention in the past 30 seconds, and he didn’t much care but a line was starting to form. “Can I get a name for that?”

“Oh! Um, sorry. David,” I said. “The only giant in the coffee shop. Can’t miss me,” I added with an awkward laugh.

He chuckled. “You’d be surprised. There was just a guy in here who had to be like seven and a half feet, I don’t even know. Like freak show tall,” eyes widened and hands splayed out.

“Not nearly as tall as you, right?” I responded without missing a beat. “You’ve got what, a foot and a half on him?” 

In my defense I was horny. And in an experimental mood. And a little annoyed at the quip about my friend. And in retrospect, starting to get drunk on power.

But Synt got the message loud and clear, and I watched the fabric of spacetime pixelating and refocusing around Jamal as I craned my neck up and up and up to his wire rimmed glasses catching the reflection of mid morning light.

A blush across his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess so,” he muttered, with a slight smile and a roll of his eyes. “That chai will be right up.”