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#tf story
devonpink · 13 hours
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The Great Swap: Trevor (Written by themousefromfantasyland. Revamped by me)
It all started when Ivan Hills turned straight.
As with everything in life, it started slowly, gradually, then all at once. The billion-subscriber beauty guru started changing his content around the summer of 2017. All his videos on YouTube suddenly became about training, sports cars, and pranking his newfound bros. His clothes went from pink and glittery to dark and gray. His profile pic changed from a winking boy in full makeup to a furious young man with a sports cap turned upwards. Then, in April 2019, he announced his long-time fag hag was now his official girlfriend and that he identified as straight. Subsequently, the internet went into a frenzy. However, those who had followed the case since the beginning were unsurprised since the brutish frat bro of 2019 was a far cry from the soft and delicate boy from 2014.
But that was not the end of it. Around the second half of 2019, several big gay and queer influencers, actors, and even politicians came out as straight. From defiers of gender roles and social expectations, these people became the most avid defenders of heteronormativity and tradition.
Then, around the end of 2019, the opposite started occurring.
Gavin Taylor, a late twenty-something commentator on the "Right Voice," a popular YouTube far-right show, came out as gay after leaving the channel. His channel changed from videos about the importance of Christian values and the nuclear family to videos about queer history, Atheism, and dating. The rude, often short-tempered young man was now a friendly, happy ball of gay fun. In early 2020, he married his boyfriend, and they now share an apartment and a cat in San Francisco.
Several key figures in far-right culture woke up gay one morning as if they had broken away from a terrible spell.
Not as bi, bi-curious, or pansexual, but as flaming homosexuals with immense bravery and pride in their queerness.
People joked about the homophobes being closeted gays, but when hundreds of them started coming out from their closets with a completely inversed worldview, it perplexed everyone. At first, this phenomenon was called "The Great Swap" as a joke. Still, as each gay big name became straight, and each raging heterosexual bigot became a fierce homosexual, the joke became a weird social contagion that scholars tried to understand at all costs.
Trevor Spencer is a notable example.
Trevor hosted the Anti-Woke Legion, a YouTube channel about fighting the infestation of woke ideology in pop culture. His detractors called his channel an example of a Far-Right gateway to young boys, a statement that filled him with pride.
It was 11 at night when the change began…
"Fuckin queers," Trevor muttered to himself, scrolling through Gavin Taylor's channel.
Gavin Taylor was his friend. His best friend. He was the only person in the world that made Trevor laugh and feel less lonely. But that was years ago. The new "progressive" Taylor called out his sexism and homophobia every chance he got, and they hadn't shared a beer in years. His faithful friend had "died" years ago, and now he was all alone.
As a tall, fat, hairy dude, Trevor felt he was fated to be completely alone. A fire of anti-woman hate eternally burned inside him, assured that no woman would ever truly love him. Even worse, everyone online constantly poked fun at his weight and disheveled appearance, looking no different from stereotypical trailer park trash.
He was miserable, and he would give anything to change his image.
Then, as if by divine intervention, his wish was granted.
He felt a sudden sharp pain throughout his body, making him scream like a frightened animal. A burning sensation quickly spread, causing his body hair to shed. His gigantic fat belly instantly deflated and morphed into shredded abs. He couldn't believe what was happening, horrified yet elated, desperate for more. His chest tightened as two pieces of solid muscle swelled and became pecs, making his midsection look as if it was carved out of marble. All the fat of his arms morphed into pure muscle, making him now look like a jacked mother fucker. His legs swelled to muscle perfection, and his feet grew. Lastly, his long, shaggy hair receded to a clean military cut.
When the pain eased, Trevor rushed to the bathroom and stared at his new face—an innocent and manly face, carefully shaved, with a jawline that could cut glass.
"What the fuck!?" He now had the body and face of a god—full of strength and youth. He couldn't help but pose and fawn over himself, grinning from ear to ear like a cocky douche.
Instantly, he had a great idea: the night was still early, and he needed to celebrate. He grabbed his wallet and hopped into his beat-up truck, heading for the all-night clothing store. He got himself some new duds, the kind he always wished to fit into, and next drove in a horny frenzy to the first club he could find downtown.
The loud music reverberated on every wall as the insane crowd danced in electrifying horny lust. People didn't take long to start checking out Trevor, eyeing him like a delicious piece of meat. He was finally the center of attention, stiffening his cock in pride. His giant pecs were squeezed by dozens of horny ladies, some with bodies only found in porn, but something was off. Something was different. Then, a handsome stranger grouped Trevor, and sparks flew, startling him.
"You like what you see?" The handsome stranger lustfully asked Trevor, pulling up his tight, sweaty shirt to show off his shredded abs.
Trevor was horrified at how horny he suddenly got. That couldn't be happening. Not with him. Not with another man. He instantly fled out of fear, disappearing into the crowd and heading for the exit, but before he could escape, the handsome stranger pulled him into the Men's bathroom.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! I just really wanted to dance with you, is all!" The blond, blue-eyed man explained with a half-grin, leaving Trevor thoroughly aroused.
"Take your hands off me, you're—" Trevor retorted, cut off by the handsome stranger's sudden laughter.
The handsome stranger backed up, heading for the exit. "Okay, okay! I know when I'm not wanted!"
But before leaving, Trevor stopped him; something new inside him made him do it. "Wait! It's not you! It's me… this is just… this is all just new to me…" His heart raced, getting lost in the man's beautiful eyes and kissable lips. He was getting hornier, in dire need of the handsome stranger's touch. "I used to think I was against this… but now…"
"You're from a conservative upbringing, aren't you?" the man asked, knowing the answer full well.
"Yeah," Trevor nervously responded, sweating profusely.
"I'm only here because my straight friend didn't want to go here alone," the handsome stranger explained, stepping closer to Trevor. "But some friends and I plan on going to a gay club after this… you want to come?" The handsome stranger stepped closer, inches from Trevor's quivering face. He arched his head and lustfully whispered in Trevor's trembling ear: "I'm positive you and I will have a lot of fun together."
Without hesitation, Trevor grabbed the handsome stranger's face and kissed him hard, taken fully by his lust. Trevor felt alive for the first time in his life as their tongues thrashed and their hands thoroughly explored each other's bodies. After French kissing for a good five minutes, they finally unlocked their horny lips and gently pressed their foreheads together, smiling. They returned to the crowd with their fingers intertwined like lovers, both feeling as if hit by the lightning bolt of pure love and lust. By that moment, Trevor felt free. Something had changed inside him, and he accepted it wholeheartedly. Trevor was dragged by gayness, engulfed by it, and soon, his Internet persona was going to be much more fabulous.
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Three months have passed since Trevor's transformation, and his life has completely changed—for the better, he'd happily say. Will, the handsome stranger Trevor met at the club, was now his boyfriend, and the two couldn't be happier together. He had a completely new online presence, full of gay joy and pride, and an audience even bigger than the last. He finally knew what it was like to be happy, to love others, and most importantly, to love himself.
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bigwishes · 4 months
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Muscle BULL
(at time of writing muscle bull won the vote so I hope you enjoy)
Mikey took one last picture in front of the gym mirror, showing off every bulging muscle of his tight and toned frame. He typed his wish into the ask box "I wish for a change (but I wanna keep my muscle)" and looked into the mirror waiting for his changes to begin.
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As soon as he pressed send Mikey felt his body begin to pulse and swell. He heard the sound of his skin stretching as his muscles swelled up underneath. Mikey grabbed his pec feeling it bulge and swell bigger, the pulses of growth matching his heart beat.
"ah, fuck yeaahhhh" Mikey moaned flexing in the mirror.
The growth began to slow down, Mikey put on some cloths feeling them tight over his massive body, unable to stop flexing to himself and laughing at how muscle bigger he had grown. He left the locker room to test his new massive body in the gym.
After an hour in the gym Mikey realised he had lifted a barbell maybe once. He was too busy staring at his massive frame in the gym mirror. Other guys around him looked puny, he looked almost over grown but he loved the size.
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Mikey took a deep breath flexing again but feeling something strange in his pelvis. A butterfly like sensation stirring in his groin, Mikey looked down and moaned watching as the fabric around his dick expanded and stretched out. His eyes widened and he bit his bottom lip watching it expand and grow bigger. Mikey got up and left the gym, in such a rush he forgot his bag, he got in his car feeling another surge of growth. Driving home as fast as he legally could Mikey anxiously rubbed his groin feeling a surge of pleasure as he touched it. He wanted to lift up his waist band but was even more desperate to enjoy himself as soon as he saw what was under it.
Mikey pulled up in his driveway getting out of his car, feeling what felt like his balls now so big they rubbed against his thighs. Suddenly another pulse of growth washed over his groin.
"AWWWW FUCCKKKKKKK" Mikey moaned out falling back to lean on the side of his car.
Mikey tried to run to his door but it was more of a waddle feeling the squeeze in-between his legs, Mikey shut his door and leant against it, staring up at the ceiling he moaned feeling one last massive surge. **RIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP**
Mikey heard his gym shorts tear apart and felt his underwear snap. Mikey let out a excited laugh looking down at his new package but it wasn't his dick that he saw. Mikey's face quickly soured as he saw a massive pink udder sagging in place of where his dick would be.
"w..w...w-WHAT THE FUCK" Mikey started to panic, grabbing onto one of his new four dick.
Another sudden pulse hit him and Mikey watched as his new sagging udder swelled up even more he felt it become tight, and then painfully tight, completely full.
"WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DICK"
Mikey slid down against his door until he was sitting on the floor. He placed both his hands around the massive round udder. All four of his dicks began to leak pre.
"oh god...what the fuck do I do with this thing"
Mikey started jerking one of his dicks, his head fell back slamming against the door as he felt the best pleasure he's felt in his entire life. It was barely 30 second before he came and his dick squirted cum over his chest and wall. Mikey couldn't help but move onto the next one, feeling the intense pleasure, and again and then again. By the time he finished one another was rock solid. Mikey stood up wiping the cum off his massive body, moaning at his full cock udder than still felt like it was gonna burst.
Mikey walked to his bedroom and saw his huge body in the mirror, he flexed and posed his new huge muscles, he was the biggest man he's ever seen. His body took up most of his mirror and his giant hand struggled to hold his phone. His eyes wondered down his enormous frame.
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Mikey let out a deep sigh dropping his phone on the ground. He stared at the massive cock udder that was now the size of a beach ball. He wrapped both his hands around his, jiggling it up and down hearing sloshing from inside. The four dicks instantly became hard from the slightest touch. Mikey have it a slight squeeze watching as all four dicks squirted cum onto his mirror.
"Oh god, I look like a fucking cow..."
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hope you ladz can enjoy this one, its been a while and I'm trying to get back into the swing of it all.
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bigboysfalldeep · 4 months
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mass cop conversion
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After a successful field test, Officers Bradley, Johnson, Miller, and Phillips were sitting inside their vehicle. It was a pretty exhausting day, doing multiple fitness tests, shooting exercises, and reviewing tactical guidelines.
They are on their way back to the station on a vacant road through the forest, a little outside of town. Bradley has been sitting in the passenger seat right next to his partner for 3 years, Johnson, who's sitting behind the steering wheel. The other two officers are sitting in the back, both of them browsing their phones. He exchanged a knowing look with his partner before shaking their heads and smiling.
As two senior officers, they had to teach the greener cops how to act, what to do, and what to say without causing too much trouble. It was working quite well, but at times, the rookies, especially Phillips, were a bit too enthusiastic.
After a long day at work, Bradley was barely able to keep his eyes open; luckily, he wasn't the one driving. Yet, as he rests his head against the seat behind him, he spots a little bright light shining through the woods.
"That's odd." He growled, drawing Johnson's attention.
"What?" His partner asked before turning his head as well.
Both of them watch the light shine brighter, illuminating more and more of the forest ground.
Now, even the rookies turned their heads, and all four men watched the light approach them, bewildered, before Johnson stopped the car.
"What are you doing?" Miller asked, his voice shaking slightly.
"It could be something worth investigating." Bradley said, looking at his partner.
But then, before any of the officers could react, the light widened even more, engulfing their entire vehicle in a bright, white light.
"What the fuck?" Bradley said, covering his eyes with the back of his hands, as all the others did the same.
Through his fingers, he was able to see a big, shadowy figure approach their car from the front, clearly the source of this bright light.
"Fuck this." Johnson grunted, hitting the horn of the car in frustration.
"Who is this motherfucker?" Phillips groaned, trying to get a better look at the source of light as well.
Shaking his head, Bradley reached for the door, but before he could open it, a weird feeling spread through him.
The air all around them grew thicker, so heavy that it got so much harder to breathe properly. A burning sensation spread across Bradley's skin and eyes; clearly, it wasn't some ordinary light.
"Fuck." Miller groaned as well, and Bradley turned his head to the other officer's. Just by their expression alone, he knew they were feeling the same thing.
With his hands shaking, he reached for the door again, but the pressure on his body just got way worse. Something was pushing him back—some invisible force causing their bodies to stay in place.
"We need....to get out." Bradley's body was pressed against the seat, and he couldn't move a muscle; instead, his body tensed more and more due to the pressure put upon it.
"I can't.." Johnson said breathlessly, obviously feeling the same. "What is this?" His face grimaced in pain, and his voice broke, ending in a silent moan.
Bradley turned his head to find his partner leaning back against the seat, breathing very quickly. Both of his hands are on his chest, clawing at his clothes. He could tell that he was barely able to breathe.
At this time, his breath quickened rapidly as well. As Bradley tried to regain his composure, he looked at the rookies through the rear view mirror, just to see them in a similar state. Phillips looked even worse, sweating and panting heavily while also clawing at his tight uniform. The temperature inside the car rose as well, causing their predicament to feel even worse.
Both rookies looked at him, seemingly asking for help, but there was nothing he could do.
"It's going to be fine." He growled, trying to make the rookies feel at ease, even though he didn't even know what was happening to them.
Bradley shook his head but was unable to avoid the light. His face flushed with color as his skin heated up even more.
Subconsciously, he started to tug at his clothes and his vest, and he somehow managed to remove his helmet, making it a little easier to breathe, just for a second. It dropped to the floor, but the pressure on his chest intensified again.
The light was shining ever so brightly right inside their eyes, but there was something else, something much more dangerous, inmidst those beams of light—another, invisible beam, a force echoing through the entire vehicle.
Just then, Bradley noticed some sort of sound—music or a speech—echoing through the entire car as well. He couldn't understand a word; he just felt a rhythm invading his mind.
"What is that?" He growled, still breathing so fast.
In response, Phillips let out a low moan, with his voice so rough.
The car was rocking slightly, something neither officer had experienced before.
Bradley closed his eyes, all of him focusing, trying so hard to get control, to move, to get out of this car, yet something was stopping him—something now crawling into his mind.
Images appeared—so many different, weird images: men on their knees, men made to serve, men made to obey.
It struck something deep inside him: the sound, the rhythm, that blinding light—all of it was putting so much pressure on his body and mind.
As waves of electricity pulsated through every fiber and every bone of his body, his muscles were the first to react.
Bradley's body grew hard; his muscles bulged against the fabric of his uniform, causing his vest to act as more of a restraint than actual protection.
Unaware, he was now stroking himself, running a hand across his chest firmly through his vest and uniform shirt while trying to calm himself down and steady his breaths.
"Fuck." He shook his head, opened his eyes, and looked through the rear-view mirror once more.
Shocked, he saw both rookies doing the same, but even more: Phillips and Miller were leaning back against the seats, stroking their own chests with both of their hands. Their faces were plagued by pain and pleasure, with their expressions shifting rapidly. 
Both officers let out low moans as their bodies slowly reacted to their strokes. Their bodies moved in sync with the strokes and sensual movements.
Bradley himself intensified his strokes, feeling all of his muscles tense more and more.
As much as it was terrifying, something deep inside him found this alluring, but that wasn't him. It was a thought planted in him by that invisible, indoctrinating force.
"What is happening?" He cried out before a low groan escaped his lips. Barely able to move, he turned his head to see Johnson already one step ahead.
His partner's face looked pain-ridden, looking right into the bright light. He was stroking himself firmly beneath his vest, feeling himself, and touching himself so lovingly.
Bradley didn't understand what was happening to them, but his body was oddly into it. He could tell his member was hard already. Either due to the sight of the other officers or the pressure put on his body, he couldn't tell.
Just then, when he turned his face back into the light, his head grew so heavy. It was burning his eyes and, at the same time, invading his mind.
Panting, he struggled to keep his eyes open while his mind was flooded with more images and more thoughts of simple obedience.
This time, however, he saw himself as the obedient one. He was down on his knees, right next to this man he only knew as "sir". 
He was wearing a similar uniform, but his hands were cuffed behind his back. It was tight—it hurt a little—but he didn't mind. The man touched him lovingly—his cheeks, neck, and down to his thick chest—and it felt so good.
At the same time, one of his hands ran down his chest, right to his thighs, and between his legs. Bradley was growing so hard and so fast, and a sudden warmth began to engulf his chest.
Like a flower, it bloomed inside his chest and spread rapidly. His whole upper body tingled, and his breathing got out of control. Bradley moaned in ecstacy, leaning his head back once more.
His eyes rolled back into his head, turning white, while the tingling sensation flowed through him—into his arms, hands, and even into his fingertips. They felt numb, yet he experienced so much pressure and pleasure—his clothes were restraining him, however.
He tried to tear his clothes apart as all of his muscles grew bigger and harder, straining the fabric of his now-tight uniform.
Bradley was struggling to keep a sane mind; it was surreal. He managed to steady his head, but his eyes were so heavy.
Unable to speak, more moans escaped his lips, and when his eyes fell on those two rookies again, he groaned.
The young officers were experiencing the exact same thing. Both of them were touching themselves firmly through their uniforms. Their dicks were tenting visibly, with Phillips already staining his clothes either with his sweat or his cum.
They moaned and thrusted a few times, experiencing pure pleasure. Their eyes too rolled back a few times as their rough and husky voices filled the air all around them.
This encouraged Bradley to touch himself through his pants as well. His cock was larger than ever before—it was pressing against his pants, visibly even through his underwear and uniform—and he felt all of him growing even harder by the second.
Bradley was sweating heavily now as the air all around him grew even thicker, filled with the moans and groans of the other officers. The smell was even worse; all men were sweaty already, yet this was different. As some were leaking, it's smell mixed with the other bodily fluids.
Bradley closed his eyes, trying his best to block these thoughts, smells, and noises, but all he saw were more images of him being a mere plaything.
The man was demanding more, so his body flexed hard. He did everything to please him. And the same command entered his mind over and over again.
"Obey."
Part of him wanted to obey, to give in, yet he had to push it back to regain control over himself again.
Fighting back, shaking his head, and trying to thrash around, Bradley turned to Johnson, who was looking at him as well. Both men were touching themselves and their cocks firmly, but they tried hard to stay focused.
Johnson was looking for help—a release—but neither of them could move even an inch. They were struggling so hard but failed. Whatever was happening shouldn't be happening, was all they could think.
But the now-comforting warmth kept spreading into every corner of their bodies, making it so much harder to not just give in. Their minds were invaded once again—even more images of simple, blissful obedience.
Bradley steadied himself against the seat, one hand firmly grabbing his own cock, the other on his chest, stroking himself lovingly.
The warmth entered his thighs and legs and flowed into his toes, causing the numbing, tingling sensation to become more intense. His body moved on its own, spreading his legs to make more space for his large member and his hands running along its ever-growing shaft.
For one last time, he looked into the rear-view mirror.
In horror, he saw both officers giving in to this phenomenal feeling; Phillips and Miller were touching each other, stroking each other's chests firmly. Their gazes were empty, just looking straight ahead, while their expressions kept shifting—pain and pleasure—again and again.
He watched their hands encompass each other's bodies: chests, thighs, necks, biceps, and pecs. All while they growled, moaned, and groaned in unison.
Holding back a painful moan, he suddenly felt a hand on his chest—his partner's hand. Johnson started to stroke him gently.
"What are you?" Bradley turned his face to look at the other officer, who was looking into the bright light, his face red yet unbothered.
He tried to fight back, but something deep inside him was enjoying this. "Don't," he begged, but Johnson didn't reply; however, he moaned instead, still looking right into the light.
This sparked something inside Bradley's chest: the urge to be touched and be fondled with by another man. He saw the images again—how good it felt to be touched like that, to be obedient.
"Fuuck." He moaned deeply, loving the firm hand touching him, stroking him, and playing with his nipples through the thin fabric of his uniform.
Instinctively, he reached out as well, and once his fingertips touched Johnson's chest, his dick grew even harder.
He never thought of touching a man like that before, especially his partner or any other officer, but it just felt so good.
Bradley loved how this man's body reacted to the simplest touch—how hard his muscles and tight his clothes were.
He turned his face into the light and acted simply on command.
Both officers were touching each other, feeling each other, and enjoying each other's bodies.
It felt like the tingling sensation was following their every move as their bodies shifted slightly.
The officers eyes were unfocused; now vacant, all of them stared into the light when a single thought flooded their minds.
"Obey. Cum and obey. Cum and obey."
Simultaneously, the four men reached down for each other's rock-hard cocks, stroking them through their pants at first.
Sweating, they started to drool heavily as more and more moans escaped their lips.
One by one, they struggled to unbutton their uniform pants, but after a few failed attempts, they succeeded.
As Johnson pulled out Bradley's wet, hard cock, he instantly started to play with it. All the others did the same, wrapping their hands around each other's dicks and moving their hands up and down their lengths.
It just felt so good to be touched like that, causing them to let out satisfied groans.
Bradley bit his lower lip, holding back, yet his low guttural growl echoed through the car, followed by similar noises from the others.
While their cocks were being fondled with, they stroked their own chests again, and the tingling feeling entered their necks and minds.
All of them grew weaker, yet their strokes became firmer.
Their hands moved to an unseen and unheard rhythm, and all four cops were edging already.
It wouldn't take long for them to fulfill their duty.
"Serve. Cum and obey."
Miller's cock was the first to give in to the pressure. He shot load after load, covering not only Phillip's hands but their clothes with his precious, hot cum.
His moans filled the air, followed by Johnson, then Phillips. All of them were cumming simultaneously, and the smell of cum and sweat was undeniable.
With one final stroke, Bradley gave in to that tingling as well. As his cock erupted, his mind was drained of everything.
He couldn't think or speak; he just moaned again and again.
Bradley's beautiful eyes were vacant, unfocused, and dull, just like the others'.
With every load and every ounce of cum leaving their bodies, more and more of their will, their resilience, and their minds were drained. Replaced with only one thought.
Obedience.
They sat there for what felt like hours, but it was mere minutes.
The light turned off, and several shadowy figures approached the vehicle. They watched through the windows and found four cops—mere empty husks, empty and ready for further programming.
Their clothes were stained with sweat, cum, as they kept drooling as well.
The doors opened, and a young man, seemingly enjoying this sight very much, smirked.
"The first stage is complete." He said that and reached for Officer Bradley's chest, touching him and stroking him firmly, but the cop didn't react.
"Good boys." The man patted his chest and looked at four other men doing the same.
"Take them for further experiments." The man took a step back.
"Yes, sir." 
He watched four bulky men dressed in black leather pull those four cops out of the car—a sight to behold.
Their dicks were hanging out of their pants; all of them were covered in sweat and cum—a debilitating smell. Their eyes were empty, and even though they were thick, muscular men, they didn't fight back.
The officers were carried toward the other vehicle and out into the back.
With one last smile, the young man looked at them before closing the back doors.
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beausstuff · 1 month
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I told my husband that if our no soliciting sign didn't work then I would have to take matters into my own hands. I rolled my eyes as once again I was interrupted from my remote work by a cheerful rapping on the door. I opened up to the all too familiar sight.
"Hello again sir! Do you have time today to talk about Jesus christ?"
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I honestly almost turned him into a girlscout selling cookies right then and there. That had been the go too before my husband insisted it was " unethical " to cease a missionaries existence just because they annoyed me.
" no thanks kid, I've already got plenty of higher power in my life." I shrugged, extending one last olive branch of mercy. The scrawny 20 year leaned into the closing door and held out his pamphlet, depicting christ.
" Jesus will change your life for the better! He helps us all to let go of our sinful pasts!"
Well that does it.
I focused my attention on the picture on the pamphlet, and the dorky young man and decided to show him what life changed for the better truly meant.
The picture of Jesus on pamphlet morphed and bulked until it depicted a young bodybuilder flexing at a gym. I looked up at my work and smiled,
Where the missionary once stood, was a confident man, with a rugged smile, and a tank top that hugged his jacked physique.
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" anyway dude," he drawled, oblivious to the change that had just taken place
"We'd love to see you at my new gym. I'd Even throw in a personal sesh with you, get you a nice sweat going." He winked
I smiled, proud of my work.
"Yeah me and my husband will be sure to swing by."
The new man smiled, charisma oozing off his bronzed skin.
"It's a date then."
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jockifyme · 18 days
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My Stories
Hey y'all, putting this here so anyone can get to my stories easily. Thanks for reading and enjoy!
New Crew (Construction Worker)
From the Stage to the Wrestling Mat (Theater Geek to Wrestler)
Look into My Eyes (Muscle Growth, Hypnosis)
Brit to Patriot (Happy 4th of July)
A Day at the Lake (Redneck)
A Shortcut (Nerd to Jock)
The Football Team is Untouchable (Professor to Football Player)
More Than a Spectator (Football Player TF)
At the Bus Stop (Football Player TF)
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derekhighwaytf · 8 months
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InstaCub
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I loved the Cha Cha Room.  It was as exclusive as it was expensive, but hey that’s the price you pay when you’re a social media sensation.  Being Trey, the sexy instagram model wasn’t without its downsides, however.  The worst thing was when guys who should’ve known that someone of my caliber wouldn’t be interested in them tried to hit on me.  Sure, I fucked my fans regularly, but only the ones that shared my dedication to beauty.  I couldn’t help that I was born gorgeous.
My entourage, an aesthetically curated group of other models (all only slightly less attractive than myself) walked into the Cha Cha Room, ready to be gawked at, each of us oozing beauty and charisma. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, their eyes filled with awe, desire, and, my favorite, envy.
But amongst that sea, there was one guy that forced me to do a double take.  Doug, rounder and balder than anyone else, didn't fit the usual demographic that came to Cha Cha. It was a mystery how he must’ve slipped his way in when security wasn’t looking, because there was no chance they’d ever willingly allow someone who looked like that to enter such exclusive premises.  And, to make matters worse, when he caught me staring at his odd appearance, he began to make his way toward me, a small, devious smile playing on his lips.
"Can I buy you a drink?," he asked.  I raised an eyebrow, my lips curling into a smirk.  Sure, he was far beneath my standards, but I loved teasing my inferiors, especially when it comes with a free drink.  "Well, aren't you a sweetheart," I replied, trying to hide my disdain for his smelly, musky demeanor.
As we talked and I pretended to listen, he must’ve farted at least three times, but I wanted to be nice, so I held my breath and counted the seconds till I could rejoin my way cooler group of friends.  However, when Doug began flirting, I couldn’t help it.  A chuckle bubbled up from my chest and I shook my head, saying "Doug, was it?  No amount of drinks in this club could make me think you're anything but fat, smelly, and bald."
“And what’s wrong with that?” he said earnestly.  “This is a bar for fat, smelly, bald guys after all.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.  Just as the words escaped my lips, I noticed something strange. As my eyes scanned the crowd, I realized that everyone, even my formerly flawless friends, looked just like Doug. They’d grown beards, their hair on their head was gone, and they all had guts the size of bowling balls.  I felt a chill run down my spine as I started to walk away.
“I must be in the wrong place.  I don’t belong here,” I said, just barely missing the door.  But before I could free myself from this hellhole, Doug stopped me and said, “Yes you do.  I think you fit in perfectly.”
Suddenly, my Gucci shirt felt tight around my midsection, and my once firm arms now felt doughy. As I turned to leave, a full-length mirror on the wall revealed a shocking transformation.   I reached up and where once were lush and thick chestnut locks, was now greeted the cold, bare skin of a rapidly receding hairline, retreating with alarming speed, creating an expanding dome of skin I’d never seen before.
Clumps of my hair began to detach themselves from my scalp, falling gently to the club floor. Each strand felt like a piece of my identity, a piece of Trey, falling away to reveal the bald truth underneath. I watched in frozen terror, feeling each follicle detach until all that remained was nothing but a smooth, shiny surface. I was as bald as an egg.
And then I farted.
Pffffffft.
I was disgusted with myself for only a moment, until I started to let a hearty chuckle much deeper than my old voice.
I looked in the mirror again, my face so much more different than it was ten minutes ago—familiar, but not the one I had painstakingly maintained for the world to admire. Suddenly, the world seemed to shift as a flood of memories washed over me. I wasn't Trey, the Instagram sensation. I was Tom, a twenty-something, bald, overweight man who didn’t shower, farted every five minutes, and fucked anyone who’d have me.  This was my bar and I was gonna make sure all my fellow cubs had a good time
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As the rock music blared and the crowd at Tommy’s Den started to become increasingly alluring to me, I was suddenly hit with a wave of unfulfilled desire, a need for cock.  So I pulled Doug aside to the bathroom and…well you can guess what happened next.
I was Tom now, and, honestly, my life was so much better…
Pffffffffft.
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hard-like-fella · 2 months
Note
seeing your work; turning people into rubber skinheads, chavs, etc. has really made me realize how nice it would be if something similar were to happen to me. What would have to change in order to become a rubber soldier?
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Indeed, envisioning yourself as a rubber soldier conjures up images of a striking figure clad in shiny latex and PVC, with every muscle accentuated to perfection.
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However, the magic of such a transformation lies in the precision of your words. A 'rubber soldier' might not just entail a shiny uniform but could literally mean becoming a RUBBER soldier.
As the transformation begins, you might first notice your compression T-shirt hugging your torso a tad more snugly than usual. Then, a peculiar sensation sweeps over you as your muscles stiffen, your skin takes on a glossy, green sheen, and you feel both powerful and constrained simultaneously.
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In the blink of an eye, your uniform and boots seem to dissolve, melding into your very being. Now, you stand not just dressed as, but truly embodying, a toy soldier - resolute and unyielding.
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Your every movement resonates with a surreal, rubbery echo. As you move, the stiffness of your body becomes apparent. Each motion is deliberate, almost mechanical. The most immediate and striking change is the pervasive scent of rubber and plastic mixed with sweat that now seems to emanate from your very pores. It's a constant reminder of your transformation, a heady and unmistakable aroma that clings to your newly glossy skin.
Isn't this what you asked for?
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coachs-locker-room · 3 months
Note
Would love to be a hot wrestler in a wrestling singlet. Is this possible?
It's been a while since I last had an order of singlets, but I'm sure that I can find an old one of mine that you can borrow. A nimble fella like yourself should look into bulking up a bit - especially if you want to be in action on the team!
- -
Almost forgetting about the odd exchange at the gym until you were about to go to bed, you pulled the singlet out of your gym bag. You had a strange memory of being asked for something in return, but your mind went blank whenever you thought of what it was… nevertheless, feeling the fabric in your hands, you thought it would only be right to give the singlet a try on your next visit to the gym.
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When the day came, your heart wanted to start racing as the tight fabric stretched across your legs and torso, but it never came. With a feeling of disappointment, both in yourself and the singlet itself, you realised that you didn't feel or look like the hot wrestlers you lusted after. Determined, and somewhat inspired by all of the 'New Year New You' content that had been everywhere this month, you took out your phone and snapped a pic for yourself. Clear that if you dared to share the image on social media, the ridicule from your friendship group would make you leave you even more crushed.
With a deep sigh, you pulled on a big hoodie and shorts, dumped two extra scoops of protein powder into your cup, and connected your headphones to the gym speaker system before leaving the locker room.
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Within the first fifteen minutes, you started to feel the strangest effects surge through you. You could only compare it to being over-caffeinated, but you felt pure energy and confidence surging through you like electricity re-charging a battery. Smashing your last set, you pulled off your hoodie as you walked over to the water fountain for a break, and caught your reflection in the mirror. You don't have to worry about your friends any more - if anyone is doing the crushing, it's you.
—-
If you enjoyed this tf, you can send me a tip on Ko-Fi and for more tf locker room posts and to request your own, follow @coachs-locker-room Post tf- image of lil_cubcake on Instagram: link singlet image of @pup-trexx: link
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stepfordboys · 3 months
Text
Suited
Husbands, Dave and John, swiftly needed suits for a close friend's sudden impromptu wedding. Luckily, the brand-new suit store that had just opened near them was available all night. They rushed over, intending to be in and out as fast as possible, but unbeknownst to the nieve couple, they were about to have a life-changing shopping experience that would quickly eradicate all strive for haste.
When Dave and John first stepped inside, they were immediately assaulted by the thick smell of intense cologne emanating from every corner. The scent was overwhelming but highly masculine, giving their cocks a pleasant twitch. To their surprise, there wasn't a single other customer or shop assistant in sight, but not overthinking it, pursued on.
The overabundance of suits intimidated them, having only worn basic t-shirts and jeans, but they eventually found ones they liked and, most importantly, could afford. They couldn't wait to leave; the intense smell of cologne was beginning to make them feel lightheaded. But, while trying to find a shop assistant, they encountered the endless racks of dress shoes, halting them in their tracks. They had some old, borrowed dress shoes in the car, but the new, freshly polished ones were hypnotically dazzling, begging to be admired and purchased.
As they contemplated which pairs to buy, their minds became more deliriously lightheaded from the cologne, turning them on. The added scent of fresh dress shoe leather intensified that arousal further, excitedly making the hairs on their arms stand up, and their cocks stiffen. With no soul around to stop them, they gave each other a knowing look, and without hesitation, they brought the dress shoes up to their noses and inhaled deeply. After which, they both moaned in dopey satisfaction, the intense masculine scent making their stiff cocks leak pre.
Dave and John were in perverted heaven, enthusiastically sniffing the dress shoes and playing with their stiff bulges. The thrill of potentially being caught pushing their horniness even further. They felt like they were going to explode with lust. They needed release. They needed each other. With looks of total horny desperation, they tossed aside the shoes they were sniffing, along with their picked-out suits, and began ferociously making out. They grasped each other's asses and rubbed their tight bulges together, French kissing and moaning like complete perverts. They wanted to fuck so badly, utterly intoxicated with how horny they felt.
Dave and John, too consumed in their lust, didn't notice the tossed-aside dress shoes and suits had vanished from the floor and materialized onto their bodies, replacing their clothes. They stuffed their hands into each other's pants and stroked one another's throbbing cocks, oblivious to the fact that their clothes had magically changed. Their brains felt like mush, blissfully unaware that their messy hair had magically slicked back to quaffed perfection.
They staggered into a nearby fitting room, unable to stop French kissing and jerking one another off. They needed to fuck, desperate for it. However, catching a glimpse of their reflections in the big, lit-up mirror quickly broke their lustful concentration. Finally, they realized their clothes and hair styling had changed entirely. They gave their reflection and then each other a bewildering look up and down, utterly slack-jawed.
Instantly, as if by divine force, they felt their bodies ignite with an overpowering need to cream their dress pants. Without giving it a second thought, they dry-humped each other, and French kissed even more ferociously than before. It didn't matter that nothing made sense; they were too dumb and horny to care. Besides, it wouldn't matter if they cared or wanted to stop, for the store wouldn't allow it. The store had its hooks in them too deeply, and there was nothing to do but give in entirely.
With ferocious, manly roars, they blasted their hot, sticky loads into their dress pants. However, they didn't just empty their balls but their minds, ejaculating their free will and way of life. For they now belonged to the store, freshly purchased.
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Dave and John, or Davey and Jonathan as they both like to go by now, never did end up attending the wedding. Neither did they ever see their family and friends ever again. As the proud owners of the brand-new suit store, they need to give all their time and attention to their beloved business. Gone are the days of lounging about watching mindless sports and playing senseless video games, but instead, putting all their blood, sweat, and tears into their store and no longer wearing plain T-shirts and jeans but rather flashy dress suits. Their hair is now always slicked back to quaffed perfection, never messy like before. Goodbye, worn-out old sneakers and flip-flops. Hello, perfectly polished dress shoes and leather boots. For now, they were perfect, never to want anything the store didn't see fit.
They're looking to hire, by the way. Any takers ;)
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sanzaibian · 1 month
Text
I should have known better.
You know, those highschool cliques ? The jocks, the nerds, the goths and all... Well, even though nowadays they might not be as clear-cut as they once were, I can assure you that they still existed.
You see, I'm a nerd. But when I say nerd, I mean nerd. Like the whole socially awkward, scrawny and ugly kind of nerd. Also the nasally always-right nerd with top notch marks that reminds the teacher he made a mistake kind of nerd. And also the loves DnD, fantasy and niche interests kind of nerd... well, you get what I mean.
Me being such a caricature meant that I was endlessly teased at school, and was senselessly bullied by the jocks. You know, these hot guys with always a girl in their pants, with big muscles and an obsession with looking good.
I hated it, I hated them, and suffered silently through highschool, until I finally saw the other side when I finally went to university. Although my first years were a bit messed up by Covid, when I was in the building actually studying applied chemistry, I finally wasn't bothered. No one was there to tease me, to bully me or anything else. I could finally live in the class without being bothered !
But, in my third year, Ethan, a guy looking like one of those jocks of old switched courses and came in my class.
I was shocked ! These guys are only good for being hot, playing sports, and entering hot girls' pants ! Not for doing some actual intelligent things like applied chemistry !
But he was even more annoying, that Ethan guy. Because he did not only take the courses I took. No, in fact, he was getting better grades than me. He's so good with polymers that he is the one who asks all the questions and corrects the teacher, not me !
So I tried to avoid him as much as I could. Even when he tried to befriend me, I just scoffed at him, sometimes even mumbling that he should go back to the football stadium. I also talked to the few acquaintances that I had made through awkward bumbling at how I felt he was dumb, and perhaps was only extorting some poor nerds for information to regurgitate in class.
And, one day, at lunch, I just had enough. Ethan and the polymer teacher had an intense debate just before the end of the class, a debate that I couldn't follow. My ego was struck, to the point that I just poured my heart out to the poor people sitting with me. I was seeing red, that day, and nothing could have stopped me... not even the fact that Ethan was there a few tables next to me.
I've since then heard that Ethan was very upset after my tirade, as he is always thought to be dumb due to his interest in being in shape and stylish, while at the same time, I was coming back home all happy to finally have given people a piece of my mind.
However, when I woke back up, I felt weird. I felt heavier, less agile and especially more groggy. As if I just couldn’t quite get up. There was also something cold on my chest that I couldn’t quite identify…
So I did the only logical thing and went to the bathroom to wash my face and properly wake up. But when I saw the mirror, I think what I saw woke me up immediately.
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The man behind the mirror was not me. It was a jock – a hot one at that – with big muscles, trendy hair, chiseled face and multiple jewelry. Yet, there were still a few things that signaled me I was looking at myself : the jet black hair, the tan skin, the brown eyes and especially those small pimples on my right cheek and on my right… I guess I can call it pec, now.
I stayed in front of the mirror for quite a while, looking at each corner of my reflection. I couldn’t believe it, and after a long while, decided to just eat breakfast and forget everything that happened. It just isn’t possible.
But when I was going to my kitchen I couldn’t stop being reminded of how I changed. From my heavy step to the sound of my new necklace, and from the pecs I saw in the corner of my eyes to the weird feeling I still felt in my head. When finally reaching it, I was surprised when I didn’t go for my usual biscuits but rather for an apple… I must eat healthily, after all !
After finishing eating breakfast, I went to my closet, and rather than going for the button-up I usually wore, I went for a simple white t-shirt, and went for a jacket that I didn’t feel like closing, in addition to my usual jeans – all suspiciously fitting me well.
And with that, I went to university, set on finding who did that to me.
When I arrived, the weird feeling in my head hadn’t lifted, though I was dead set in finding who was responsible. So dead set that I didn’t notice people turning their head at my arrival. Nor my backpack shifting to only being carried by one shoulder.
After a while, I saw my class, and approached them with heavy gait, swinging my torso with every step like a typical jock. However, curses befell upon me when I opened my mouth and greeted my classmate.
“Yo, bro ! Doin’ good ? I just wanted to ask, bro, anything weird happened since yesterday ?”
I was shocked at how I said that, so much that I covered my mouth with my hand. My classmate was similarly shocked, and only shook her head negatively before excusing herself. Why did she flee like that ?
I clicked my tongue before looking at myself. How had this happened ? Why am I doing weird things ? Why am I talking weirdly ? I can think the sophisticated thoughts, yet when I voice them, they are filtered through bro-speech !
As I was melting down, none other than Ethan came in, smiling. Of course it was him, I shouldn’t have given the benefit of the doubt to him ! I have been only graceful and nice to him, and this is how he repays me ? By turning me into this… hot monstrosity ?
As the anger was rising, Ethan lead me to the bathroom, and there explained himself.
“You know, Juan, you’ve been insufferable ever since we started that semester. Always distrusting me, and making others distrust me. I’ve never know why you were always so angry at me, while you treated others with respect… that is, until you went on a rant yesterday.
- You fucker ! Turn me back right now, or you’ll wish you’ve never been born, you son of bitch !” I didn’t quite expect to be this foul-mouthed…
- Hahaha ! No, I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’s already so unexpected that my prayers were answered to, so you turning back ? No can do !
- Bro that’s not fair, I wasn’t bad to you, man ! You were the one being rude on my turf, bruh !
- So funny ! You now sound like one stereotypical jock in addition to looking like one ! I’m sorry, Juan, but nobody will ever take you seriously in a conference If you talk to them like that !” he laughs.
- Bro, just turn me back… I promise I won’t continue, man !
- What didn’t you understand in ‘No can do’, Juan ? the ‘no’ ?”
I roll my eyes, but he’s right… God that fucking angers me. I want to strangle that piece of shit !
“So, Juan, I guess, see you in class, if you even dare enter it…”
On that, he left. That day, I didn’t go to class, spending my time looking for information on what made me turn like that, until, like clockwork, at 5 PM I felt like I needed to go to the gym…
After a few days of searching and not finding anything at all, I decided to abandon the quest to find myself back and to rather learn to live with this new body. With Ethan stubbornly refusing to tell me how he did it and with my searches on internet only yielding weird fetish pages, I knew it was desperate...
I’ve since started to learn to cope with my strange occurrence, though it has absolutely wrecked my life. After having debated a while with the administration to prove I’m myself, I find my grades slipping, especially due to my newfound rudeness that mess up every single oral exam…
But at least, I’m hot now…
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Hello, thank you for reading my small story, I hope it wasn't too bad !
Please do not hesitate to give me feedback - especially as it is the first real time I'm writing fiction in english ^^'
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devonpink · 22 days
Text
Straight Boy.MP3 Part 2
Pierre was chilling on his bed, scrolling his phone in utter boredom when suddenly he got a text from his best friend, Mason, a link to an untitled mp3. His eyes perked up, wondering what it could be. While putting on his headphones, he got another text from Mason. The text read, "Bro!!! Listen to this immediately, bro!!! It's fucking life changing, bro!!!" Pierre raised an eyebrow of confusion, perplexed at why Mason unexpectedly sounded like an annoying cliché of a dumb straight boy. "Well, if it's that amazing," Pierre scoffed, rolling his eyes. He laid back and curiously pressed play, smugly assured in knowing no song is genuinely life-changing. Poor Pierre, how wrong he'd soon be.
After a few seconds of ambient build-up, the song went right into the hook: a cacophony of vibrant hypnotic melodies piercing Pierre's mind like neon lightning. It was loud and violent, yet incredibly arousing. In a panic, Pierre tried removing his noise-canceling headphones, but they wouldn't budge. He wanted to get up, confused and frightened, but his body wouldn't let him; his backside and legs felt like they were cemented to the bed. The more he tried to budge, the weaker his body became. His arms soon fell to his sides, limp with exhaustion. All he could do was listen in agonizing terror as his 10" cock became instantly rock hard, creating a stiff pitch tent in his thin grey sweatpants.
"What the fuck?!" Pierre winced as the song's repetitious beat assaulted his ears. He clutched his bedspread in discomfort, feeling incredibly lightheaded but, surprisingly, with no headache. His eyes rolled back in anguish, feeling his whole body tingle and tighten. Even in such misery, nothing could stop the mysterious intensity of aching arousal igniting within him, a massive pre cum stain forming at the tip of his throbbing pitch tent.
"Cum, dumb straight boy!" An unrecognizable male singer abruptly and loudly sang, frightening the hell out of Pierre. His hard cock quivered, instantly responding to the song's command. His cock suddenly felt on the brink of eruption, making him spasm with a severe euphoric chill. In the pit of his stomach, he knew something terrible was going to happen if he shot his load. He clutched his bedspread harder, trying desperately to resist, but his body wouldn't have it. With a moan of great sexual agony, he blasted through his grey sweatpants and made a huge mess of himself and his bedspread with his white sticky cum.
"Holy fuck, bro!" Pierre moaned, his voice slightly deeper. He couldn't believe what had just come out of his mouth, but it was the only thing his brain could muster. The song then went right into the bridge, grabbing back his attention. "Dumb boy. Dumb, dumb boy." The lyrics sang. "What the fuck?!" Pierre gasped, feeling his cock stiffen back up. "Dumb boy. Dumb, straight boy. Cum out all your brains, dumb boy." The lyrics sang. His cock quivered and throbbed, aching for release. "Fuck, no! Fuck, bro-" Pierre uttering that word again sent a chill down his spine, cutting off all thought. "Holy fuck, bro." Pierre moaned, his mind suddenly feeling like mush. His hips began to thrust forward on their own, his cock rubbing against the sticky wet cum in his sweatpants. He could feel his resistance slipping, giving him unexpected pleasure. "Fuck, bro!!!" he moaned, his cock erupting another blast of hot sticky cum.
"Dumb boy. Dumb, straight boy." The lyrics sang, bringing a dumb smile to Pierre's sweaty face. "Holy fuck, bro!" Pierre chuckled, his head feeling even lighter. He unclenched from his bedspread, feeling more relaxed. Pierre then closed his eyes, seeing them go fuzzy. A few seconds ago, Pierre felt like he was in a living nightmare, but now he felt like he had just finished having the best full-body massage of his life. "Fuck, bro." He moaned in satisfaction. However, the song wasn't over. Pierre wasn't complete yet.
"Straight boy. I'm a straight boy." The lyrics sang, widening Pierre's dumb smile. "I'm a straight boy." Pierre harmonized. Pierre's eyes opened in shock, instantly snapping out of his joy. A drop of cold sweat ran down his face, dread pouring over him. "I'm gay." Pierre protested. "You're a straight boy." The lyrics immediately sang back, responding to him. Pierre's heart quickened, unable to believe what was happening. "I'm-" Before Peirre couldn't finish, the song fastly interrupted, "-straight. You're a straight boy." Pierre's cock stiffened back up to full mast, throbbing and quivering for release. He clutched his bedspread again, knowing the next ejaculation would be the last. What lay on the other side of that orgasm, he could only fear the worst.
"Cum, straight boy!" The song commanded. Pierre clutched his soaked bedspread harder, trying with all his might to resist. "Cum, boy. Cum, straight boy. Cum out all your gay, straight boy!" The song commanded, sounding malevolent. Pierre groaned, feeling his hips thrust forward on their own again. His hard cock rubbing against the sticky wet cum in his sweatpants felt magnificent, the pleasure beyond hard to resist. "Cum, Pierre! Join us, bro!" The song commanded. Pierre's heart skipped a beat, the song uttering his name frightening the hell out of him. His hips thrust harder, humping faster. He could feel the cum building up, his cock ready to erupt for the final time. "Please, no!" Pierre protested in agony, tears forming in his eyes. "CUM!" The song demanded, sounding like the devil himself. Pierre clutched as hard as he could, the pleasure overpowering all fear. "FUCK, BRO!!!" Pierre roared like a mighty manly beast, firing off his hot sticky white cum for the third and final time.
The song blasted off its final beat as Pierre passed out in a pool of sweat and cum. He awoke a few minutes later feeling like a brand-new man. Pierre was a new man. The previous intelligent gay Pierre was permanently gone forever, and the new dumb straight Pierre was here to stay. With all memory of his mental transformation erased, Pierre was dumbfounded as to why he was drenched in sweat and cum. But now, being as dumb as a brick, he didn't overthink it and got off his bed to clean himself. Instead of bathing like an intellectual, he grabbed a used towel and poorly whipped the cum and sweat off his chiseled body.
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Pierre then rushed over to his closet to quickly change into his trunks. It was still a hot, sunny day, and the slutty babes at the beach were calling. He needed pussy and badly! But before going out, Pierre sent all his gay friends a link to his brand-new favorite song, an untitled mp3.
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bigwishes · 6 months
Text
Pretty Boy's Mistake
Kye was you average university athlete, mainly there to get a degree a generic sports degree to get a job as a personal trainer in the high end gyms, he rarely went to his lecture but always got outstanding grades. It wasn't that he wasn't passionate about sports or health, in fact he had taught himself pretty much everything the university had to offer before he had even gotten there. He was only there for a piece of paper. He spent most of his time in the gym, lifting weights whilst also training some guys on the side for some cash in hand work but he always made sure to put his own workouts first. His body was almost perfect and he loved every inch of it.
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Although he wished he could be bigger. He saw some of the guys in the gym, how their tank tops looked like they could burst at any moment. One time he even saw a guys tank split because of an insane chest pump. He loved huge guys, wanted to be fucking huge like them. He would picture his gym crush and how his entire car would bounce and wobble when he squeezed his massive frame inside, he wanted a guy like that in his bed, he wanted to be bigger than that but a body like that would probably take him another 15 years to build and he wanted to enjoy and flaunt that size before he left uni.
Kye was in the gym when he saw a huge lumbering giant walk in. The man looked like a superhero right out of a comic and something possessed Kye out of no where. He followed the huge meathead to the locker room.
Kye stood there seeing the giant block almost all the lockers on a wall his back was so wide and Kye got nervous, a lump formed in his throat and he spat out what he had to say.
"so...how do I get as big as you bro"
the massive dude turned around looking around the locker room checking to see if he was talking to someone else, he let out a thunderous chuckle.
"you talkin to me pretty boy?"
Kye grew red in the face "y-yeah man, look I been lifting for a few years and I really wanna get fucking huge like you man"
"aaa just keep at it guy, youll be massive like mean real soon"
"how old are you?"
"Im 22 bro"
"22!" Kye yelled "bro im almost 23 how the fuck you get so big man, you gotta tell me your secret"
"hmmm, look, you're kinda cute bro so, I'll let you in on a little secret, for a trade of course"
"Anything man, anything, Ive tried everything I know with diet and routine and I'm just not swelling up like other guys are"
"I'll give you my secret if you tell me why you wanna be so big, annnnd, for a date" the large man raise his eyebrow and walked closer to Kye.
Kye's heart started pounded as he imagined what it'd be like to have his skull crushed by the giant bodybuilder's monstrous thighs
"o-okay, ummm, phew, is it hot in here?" kye tripped and stumbled over his words like it was his first time ever talking to a guy.
"so, why you wanna be big pretty boy?"
Suddenly the man had is arms leaning on the doorframe behind Kye forming an arch over him looking down at him.
"eer, well, I-I like size and, I like guys with size and I wanna be big y-ya know" Kye tried to avoid eye contact as the massive brute leaned in
"So you like big guys hey? why don't you keep your lil jock bod, let a mountain like myself have fun with you"
"Because I ain't no bodies bottom bitch, believe me man, if I was as big as you, I'd of already throw you against the wall and you'd be beggin for it"
The massive meat head in front of him bit his lip
"so you promise, once you're as big as me you'll be tossing me around?"
Kye smirked trying to keep up the confident façade
"yeah bro, but gotta warn you, I'm already a catch, once guys see me with arms tearing out of my shirt and my huge muscled fat ass squeezed into tight gym shorts you'll probably have some competition"
"oh I like a cocky meathead"
the man turned around walking back to his gym bag pulling out a small vial of orange fluid, he handed it to kye
"I'm Jason by the way"
"What is this?"
"My secret mixture, drink it man, it'll make you real big...and give you that fat juicy ass you want"
Kye instantly downed the drink and gave Jason a wink.
"Alright, Im gonna go workout man"
"See you tomorrow pretty boy" Jason laughed as Kye walked out.
Kye was stepping into his car, having to stop to catch his breath, he worked harder than he ever had. He knew the vitamin shot he was given wasn't going to do anything but it was at least energising. Kye felt a strange tingling, as the veins on his pelvis swelled with blood pumping downwards. Kye gritted his teeth feeling like he was about to get hard and suddenly he watched as his package swelled and doubled in size in his pants.
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Kye jumped in his car feeling his thighs and arms swell. Like his pump was subsiding but his muscles weren't shrinking down to normal size.
He drove home, gritting his teeth and occasionally grunting the entire way.
Kye stepping of of his car feeling his shirt tight around his chest and arms. He let out a tired sigh feeling strange and walked inside. Kye saw himself in the mirror, his shirt tightly pulled across body. He pulled off his shirt seeing his abs slightly stretched out, rubbing his stomach watches his package swell again.
UUUUUGGGGhhhhhh He groaned.
"W-what the fuck is going on"
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Kye watches as his bulge swelled outwards in his pants straining against the fabric, as his stomach swelled outwards with it.
"W-WHAT THE FUCK MY, MY ABS"
Kye grabbed his stomach feeling it strain
UUUUUUUGGGGHHHH-UUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPP
Kye let out a painful groan that turned into a belch as tears started to form in his eyes, his perfect 6 pack was gone swelled out like he had been bulking all year round.
Kye couldn't hold back the belches escaping his mouth and with each on his body changed. His arms swelled bigger, his thighs swells bigger.
He watched helplessly in the mirror unable to stop the changes, no matter how hard he pushed his stomach trying to get it to shrink the only thing he managed to do was push out another belch. Kye mercilessly began scratching at his jaw and neck feeling an annoying itch take over. He was too busy watching as his body swelled up to notice the changes in his face. Kye finally looked up from his bloated stomach to see himself, hairy, big and bulky.
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"WHAT THE FUCK, I" Kye pinched the side of his waist in disbelief
BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPP
Kye's massive meaty hand felt is muscled gut vibrate as he belched. Feeling a surge of change again, but he didn't see himself get any bigger in the mirror, he heard a slight ripping noise and looked around. Turning to the side he saw the fabric of his gym shorts tight, torn and ripped over his massive muscular ass. His face turned bright red.
"Oh god..I'm...uuggh I'm like a fat bear"
Kye's stomach grumbled and he made his way to the kitchen poking and patting his gut hoping by some mirecal it would shrink and turn back into a six pack.
Kye sat in the gym locker room trying to hide his new burly body under bagging clothing. Embarrassed and hoping Jason would walk in at any moment. After about an hour Jason walked in.
"H-Hey Jason"
"Oh hey Pretty Boy, hows it feel bein big"
"I" Kye couldn't even finish his sentence before letting out a monstrous belch
"I didn't ask for this"
"yeah you did bro, you wanted to be big"
"AND NOW LOOK AT THIS, WHERE ARE MY ABS IM TUBBY" Kye lifted his shirt and poked at the muscled slab
"Man you aint tubby, you bulky, thick muscle"
"But I wanted my abs bro, I wanted to look like some pro bodybuilder not like some kinda burping werewolf"
Kye rubbed his gut cocking his mouth open belching causing Jason to laugh. Kye's face turned bright red
"Dude stop laughing and fucking do something, uuuggghhh"
"alright bro, quit the complaining I might have something for you"
"Anything is better than this man"
Jason handed Kye a vial filled with bright pink liquid
UUUURpp "so, this'll fix me?"
"Oh man, it'll give you the perfect body"
Kye looked at it suspiciously feeling the concrete wall he had for a stomach. He closed his eyes and downed, a few moments passed and Kye didn't feel much different, when suddenly the familiar sensation rose up from his gut to his throat.
UUUUUHHGG-UUUUUURRRRRPPPP
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Kye's eyes widen and his face turned white
"WHA-UUUUUURRRPPPP DID-UUUUURRRRRRPP YOU GIV- UUUURRRPP ME?!"
Kye tried to speak more but he struggled to form a full sentence from his constant belching
"Looking good man" Jason laughed
Kye, felt is rock hard bloated gut and heard the sound of tearing fabric as his muscles bulged out of his shit, soon he was left standing there in the gym locker room in nothing but his underwear.
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Kye looked at himself in the mirror disappointed by his huge muscle gut, he cocked his mouth open and belched.
Jason let out a booming laugh "bro you look like you take roids and smash 6 protein shakes hourly"
"bro why'd you do this" Kye sheepishly asked
"because you wanted to me big"
"then why not make me like you, why give me this huge gu-UUUUURRP"
"Coz you were cocky, and I find it hot when cocky guys get taken down a peg"
"oh" kye smiled "so now you've gotten you kick I can go back right?"
"nah, you were a pretty boy jock, now you can enjoy being a bulky cunt"
Kye went to walk away from the mirror, hearing his underwear start to rip around is massive muscled ass. That'll teach him to take stuff from strangers in the locker room.
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bigboysfalldeep · 6 months
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As a senior officer, rookies are assigned to Raùl up to four times a year. He shows them the basics, how to stay safe, what places to avoid and simply, how to be a good cop. His newest partner just graduated from the academy about three weeks prior. Being very green, days are extremely exhausting. Nonetheless, Raùl enjoys his job a lot.
He just brought him home after a very long, draining shift, and hes happy to spend an hour alone, to relax and to do paper work. The young one is learning this soon enough, and as long as nothing eventful happens, those reports are pretty easy to fill out.
Raùl is sitting inside the car in midst an empty parking lot a little out of town, lighting a cigarette. As he takes a deep breath, he leans back against the seat. With a huge exhale, he sighs and blows smoke out of his mouth.
He checks the clock. His shift is nearly over, time to head to the station. He turns the key, and the engine roars to life, but it dies soon after. Bewildered, he turns the key again, with the same result.
Sighing again, he thinks for a second. He cant afford that car to be broken. So much paperwork. Annoyed, he reaches for the key, but as he looks into the rear view mirror, he spots a dark figure sitting on his back seat.
"What the fuck? Who are you?" He grunts angrily, but as he blinks, that figure is gone. Raùl turns around to see where that man has gone, but there is no one in sight.
His heart is racing and his breath quickens rapidly. He feels his whole body shaking in fear. "What the fuck?" Raùl exhales, and the sound of his radio spooks him. He jumps, hearing the voice of his operator echoing through the car.
"Raùl. Can you hear me?" She says, and the cop takes a deep breath.
He turns back around and leans against the seat. "I can hear you." He turns on his microphone and holds back a nervous chuckle.
"Captain wants to talk to you, you may come in." She says calmly.
"On my way." He coughs, trying his best to not show his growing anxiety.
Raùl closes his eyes and runs a hand across his face and through his hair. 'Just my nerves' he thinks, but once he opens his eyes, however, the ghostly figure is hovering right in front of his face.
Letting out a guttural scream, he cant stop it from entering his body through his open mouth. Like sticky liquid it covers the inside of his mouth, his tongue and slides down his throat. Raùl gags, and tries to grab his attacker, but it doesnt work. He reaches for his gun, the radio, but then, his throat starts burning.
Its warm, goo-like, and more and more of it enters his mouth. In horror he watches the figure disappear inside him, deeper, until its gone.
His body reacts right away, getting harder than ever before. Its a extremely weird feeling. On the one hand its disgusting, the smell and texture of it all, but on the other hand, hes getting arroused.
Raùl blinks a few times and holds his throat, and stomach still feeling that sticky liquid running down inside him. He gags again and again, a defensive mechanism, but it doesnt work at all.
His entire body stiffens harshly, as all of his muscles bulge against his now tight uniform. "What is...." He growls deeply, but suddenly, his body starts twitching.
His entire being starts tingling, as warmth fills his entire chest. Subconciously, he starts stroking himself, feeling his skin heating up even through his clothes. His breath quickens again and he desperately tries to open up his vest, to make it easier for him to breathe.
After a few failed attempts, he opens the zipper and takes a huge deep breath in relief.
Just then, the warmth starts spreading through his arms right into his fingertips. The tingling gets even worse but he cant help himself but moan in blissful satisfaction.
Still stroking himself, he feels his skin move slightly, something or someone is adjusting to his bigger frame.
Its painful yet more waves of pleasure echo through every fiber of his body.
His upper body grows heavier and the warmth keeps spreading, now, through his waist into his thighs, further down, reaching his toes.
Raùl moans again as even his cock is tingling rhythmically. It grows larger, pressing against his pants. He never felt like that before, and nothing caused him to leak precum and stain his boxers that fast.
Unable to control himself he grabs his bulge firmly, moving his hand along his ever growing shaft.
"Soo good."
A voice enters his thoughts, causing Raùl to snap out of this state of pure pleasure for a moment.
"Who are you?" He opens his mouth, but hes just drooling. Instead, hes talking to that voice inside his head.
"Im the new owner of this beautiful body."
The voice says sassily.
"What? Who?"
Unable to form a coherent thought, Raùls mind starts spinning even faster.
Just then, his mind is flooded with so many different images, thoughts and feelings, which simply overwhelm him.
All of him tells him to give in. That its okay. So easy.
"Im merging with you, Raùl." The voice says. "Ive been looking for a host for months. And watching you with those rookies made my heart melt."
Raùl leans his head back, letting out a long guttural moan at the simple thought of his new partner.
His cock pulsates happily, staining his clothes even more.
"Im sorry. Couldnt help myself." The voice giggles.
"Please....dont."
Raùl cries out, the feeling of losing control getting worse and worse.
"I want you. I need you." The voice says. "And I always get what I want."
The pressure on his body gets nearly unbearable, and with a last effort, he tries to fight back, but the batlle is already lost.
Moaning, groaning and grunting deeply, Raùl shoots load after load into his pants. His body is giving in, and that voice is embracing this fully. The eyes turn glassy and unfocus before they roll back into his head. All of the muscles are testing the limits of the uniforms fabric and his voice breaks before it stops.
For a moment, all goes numb.
Then, 'Raùl' opens his eyes, and lets out a low groan.
With a smile, he looks at his reflection inside the rear view mirror, enjoying the sight of him.
"Very nice." He growls and inspects his face, running a hand through his nicely done hair and groomed beard.
'Raùl' then inspects the rest of his body. He enjoys how it feels to be a well trained cop. His muscles flex easily, and then, subconciously, he strokes his cock through a huge wet patch.
"Fucking good." He smirks, and raises his eyebrows. "The first time is always the best."
His captain wants to speak to him. Thats going to be fun.
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buck-whitman · 5 months
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These four bros used to be four gay nerds until I invited them over to play ‘Switch.’ Of course they couldn’t resist. What they didn’t know was that they would be switching. Aaron, the one in the hat was the first to feel it. His greasy hair was suddenly popping out into well maintained curls. As he reached up to fix his hat he decided to turn it around with a smirk. Eric, the one next to him, ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back. At the same time both boys felt a pain in their feet and kicked off their shoes. Instead of their usual small, nerdy feet they found big jock feet waiting for them.
“Bro! Your feet are huge!”
“Bro yours too! Fuck why am I saying bro?”
Sam, the one on the end let out a deep, dumb chuckle watching his friends, surprising everyone including himself. He looked down and saw he too had removed his shoes, exposing big, elongated feet. What’s more - he could feel a growing urge to remove more clothes and suddenly pulled off his shirt. Instead of his usual flat, pale bird chest he now had a healthy tan and two protruding pecs. Even his arms had gotten thick and muscular.
“Sweet” he bellowed in his new, masculine voice.
“Bros what’s happening to us?” Cried out Jason, the smallest one. He slid his hands under his shirt, feeling hard muscles form. He tried but couldn’t resist pulling off his own shirt. He grabbed his face as his features hardened, losing their dorky roundness and becoming sharper and handsome, he frantically slid his hands up through his hair which was rapidly shortening into a cool bro cut. “No, no, no, I don’t wanna be a dumb, straight bro!” He cried out feeling his brains and sexuality fading away.
“Don’t fight it bro” laughed Eric.
“Yeah bro just give in” chimed in Aaron as both boys eagerly pulled off their shirts and rubbed their new, tan muscles. Eric suddenly moaned and threw his big feet up on the table as Aaron sat back and grinned dumbly. I knew what was happening now. One by one tents started popping out in each boys’ shorts as their dicks lengthened and their minds shifted from video games to boobs and sex. Even Jason’s eyes began to fill with pleasure and hunger as he gave in, surrendering his smarts and gayness.
“How you bros feeling, want some beer?”
Aaron threw out a thumbs up with his big, jockish hand and a dull expression etched into his face. The others followed suit, slowly giving up any hope of being nerds again they accepted the beer - sealing their fates forever. Bros for life… Rescued from the now-deactivated account of "grandwagonranchmaker"
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derekhighwaytf · 9 months
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Eli had sparked quite a reputation as a college sophomore. His infamous university-wide anti-military protests had piqued the attention of Professor Frank Marshall, an American History professor who was once a marine himself. When Eli's final essay, a biting, yet flawed case for slashing the American defense budget landed on Frank's desk, the professor felt compelled to bring him in for a heart-to-heart during office hours.
Eli, however, was as tenacious as he was stubborn. He sat across from Frank in the oak-lined office, launching into an impassioned tirade about banning military recruiters from all school campuses in America. Calmly, Frank handed Eli a faded photograph from his own youthful days in basic training at Parris Island.
Suddenly, Eli's art-trained eyes, usually tuned to distinguish the finest nuances in Van Gogh portraits, refocused into the unfiltered reality of a soldier's perspective. His delicate fingers, usually smeared with paint from making picket signs, hardened and darkened with dirt, pulsating with a strength he had never known. He tried to shake off the sensation, but it was no use; his body was being reformed, repurposed.
With each passing second, his scrawny physique began to shift, muscles emerging and hardening where there was none. His chest broadened, shoulders squared, and his twinkish form swelled into a formidable figure. He could feel his clothing tightening around him as he grew from a wiry 130 lbs to a solid, imposing 190 lbs of pure, hardened steel.
A savage hunger replaced his usual vegan diet, his body now craving meat and potatoes. His earring evaporated into thin air, and as his hand instinctively reached for it, he felt his free-flowing, untamed locks disappear too. His messy mane shrank into a sleek undercut, and then to a neat crew cut, and finally, a bare-bone induction cut, revealing a chiseled jawline and a gaze as sharp as an eagle’s. He reached up to feel his new haircut, rubbing his sandpaper head, his growing eight inch plank of wood grinding up against his camouflage uniform.
Eli tried to resist the transformation as best he could, his spirit rebelling against this sudden sense of discipline and masculinity. But every attempt was futile; he was no longer the one in control.
His memories of avant-garde performances and wine-soaked nights were replaced by grueling morning drills and punishing workout sessions. Deep down, he wanted to reach out for his paints, his brushes, but his hands instead found the photo of young Frank Marshall morphing into a snapshot of a young soldier, one of himself—no longer Eli, but Elijah. A proud American willing to do anything to protect his country.  His artistic aspirations were relegated to the backburner, the space in his mind taken over by his new military identity.
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Frank watched as Eli's rebellious spark was now smothered by the spirit of a Marine. Now, there was only Elijah—a paragon of strength, duty, and masculinity. Despite his desperate efforts, Eli had morphed into the one thing he had sworn never to be. His rebellious spirit was finally tamed, replaced by the steady, dutiful beat of a Marine.
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l1ghtgero · 11 days
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Track guy
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when I saw this guy was on the track team I knew I had to have his body he was so hot especially when he wears his tight track clothing my luck begin to surface when one day in the locker rooms he was changing I jumped behind him slam into the ground and injected him with the special serum I made now I'm in this hot body waiting for a grinder ping
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