unabashedtf

[unabashedtf]

Witchcraft Testing: Chapter 6 - The Heavy Hitter

The afternoon sun hung over the college baseball field. On first base stood Tyler — tall, athletic, and clean-cut. His uniform clung to a toned but not overly muscular frame. Navy blue and gold. Number 17.

He was quick, lean, with a tight jawline and a fast glove. Not much of a hitter, but reliable on defense.

High in the bleachers sat Amber and Kira, sipping from iced coffee cups that definitely didn’t contain coffee.

Kira leaned forward, watching Tyler stretch his legs at first base. “I like this one. He’s cute.”

Amber smirked. “He could use a little more… power.”

Kira snapped her fingers and murmured a short phrase.

On the field, Tyler shifted his stance.

Then he froze.

His pants pulled tight across his backside — tighter than before. He reached back, subtly pulling at the waistband. But his ass had grown, rapidly thickening into two perfect round glutes, filling out the uniform completely. The fabric squeaked as it stretched.

He shifted again, clearly uncomfortable, adjusting his stance repeatedly.

From the dugout, a teammate whistled. “Damn, Ty! Squats been working overtime?”

Tyler flushed, cheeks red. “Shut up,” he muttered, bending over slightly — only making it worse.

Amber whispered the second enchantment.

Tyler winced.

A strange pressure built in his jock. His cup shifted, lifted, then cramped. He adjusted his crotch — once, then again — and finally had to grab his waistband and subtly shift everything inside.

“Ugh,” he muttered, stepping off the base. His bulge was clearly more prominent now — round and heavy.

It was getting hard to focus.

Coach waved for him to swap out. Tyler jogged off the field, eyes darting to the ground.

A teammate slapped his ass as he passed. “Lookin’ thick today, slugger.”

Tyler forced a laugh but didn’t answer.

Inside the locker room, he pulled off his belt and peeled down his pants. His eyes widened.

His balls were enormous. Hanging, round, warm — like someone had pumped them up. He lifted his jockstrap and stared, unsure what to do.

Rip.

He gasped.

The seat of his pants split — his glutes now massive, too wide for the seams. He looked up in the mirror and gasped again.

His shirt buttons strained, and one popped off. His arms bulged, traps rose, and his chest heaved out — inches thicker in seconds.

Within moments, Tyler looked like a baseball player on steroids. Thick, veiny arms. Deep chest. Thighs like tree trunks. His neck looked thicker. Even his jawline seemed squarer.

He reached for backup gear — an XL jersey and larger pants — and slid them on.

The fit? Perfect.

He stood in front of the mirror, breathing heavy, staring at the beast he’d become.

“Damn,” he muttered. “I look... good.”

✦ Spell 4: Role Rewrite

Back in the dugout, heads turned.

“There he is — our heavy hitter!” the coach said with a clap. “Get up there, Tyler. Let’s see that bat in action.”

Tyler blinked. Heavy hitter? He’d barely been in the batting rotation before…

But as he stepped onto the plate, something clicked. His stance felt perfect. His body lined up like a pro. The bat felt like part of him.

The pitch came.

Crack!

The ball soared over the fence.

The crowd roared.

He jogged the bases, chest puffed out, jock bouncing inside his cup, thick ass swaying. When he reached home, the team swarmed him.

Tyler smiled wide. “Guess I’ve always been the big guy, huh?”

In the stands, Amber leaned back. “Next.”

This is the end of story for now

[unabashedtf]

Boyfriend Material*

*The 500-special, a boyfriend TF

---

"And so anyway that's what happened."

"Uh huh."

Jack's trying very hard to be a supportive friend but it's just difficult right now because his jeans are so uncomfortable. Who the fuck made this shit? They're both too tight in some places like his ass and crotch, and too loose in the legs. The clerk who checked him out said it was a special material. Boyfriend Material. Whatever that meant. Anyway, it made his nondescript ass look decent so maybe a couple of chicks would hit on him, like the hot new intern who just started.

But right now he's listening to Bret talk about his own breakup. Another in a long string of failures.

"Where the hell are you finding these men anyway?" Jack asks. Bret signals and they're turning into his driveway. The plan was to just play Mario Kart, smoke a shit ton of weed, and then pass out.

"I don't know. Maybe I need to raise my standards."

"Anything's better when your standards are in hell."

Bret laughs as he takes the key out of the ignition. "I love you, man."

Suddenly, Jack's doused in scalding hot water. It's like the season switched from fall to summer in .5 seconds. Sweat beads on his brow as Bret gets out of the car. Jack wipes his forehead and follows him.

"Like you should be talking," Bret unlocks the front door as Jack tries to maintain his balance. He's sweating profusely and he's certain he looks like he's got something contagious. His heart skips a beat as he looks at Bret's thick thighs jutting out of his shorts. He clears his throat and tries his best to hide the fact that he's acting all flustered. Which is weird because Bret's been saying that for years. He loves Bret. Just not in that way.

So why -

"You just broke up with, uh, damn. Um, what was her name again?"

Jack swallows. His nipples for some reason are hard as fuck. He shudders as a chill races down his spine, his body temperature confused as his crotch literally pulsates. He can feel his balls quiver as if they've just gotten a megaton worth of cum in them. He clenches his legs and tries to think about his ex.

"Alana," he manages. He can't picture her for some reason. He can see that gorgeous face of hers, those defined cheekbones and her soft jaw, but anything below her face is all foggy. His nipples throb beneath his shirt, chafing a little uncomfortably against the fabric.

Once inside the house, he expects to cool off, for this infernal heat to just rid itself. But when he crosses the threshold into the house, his body gets hit with more heat. Damp patches spread from his armpits as his balls pulse and ache. They tingle and so gently inflate, brushing against the fabric of his briefs. He masks the moan that bubbles out of his throat with a cough.

"You're not getting sick on me, are you?"

Jack shakes his head and tries smiling as he stares at his friend's bubble butt. It jiggles and bounces beneath the thin fabric of his basketball shorts. God, they look painted on. When Bret opens the fridge to get a beer, Jack yearns for him to bend over to spread his cheeks, get a glimpse of his hole, or his bulge from between his legs. Jack's mouth falls open and he's breathing heavily, like he's fucking. His fingers move automatically to his nipples and the hot spike of pleasure is enough for his cock, half-hard, to spring to full erection. Bret's doing all of this to tease him. To make him horny enough to bend him over the sink and rip a hole in his shorts and fuck him senseless, fuck him until there's a puddle of cum on the floor in front of them and -

The fridge slamming snaps him out. Bret hands him a sweating beer. Jack somehow manages to thank him.

"You okay?"

He really wants to ask Bret if sexuality really is that fluid. He's looking at Bret, appraising his tight pecs, as if he were a woman. God, what is wrong with him? Why is his cock so fucking hard? Why do his balls feel so big? Bret crosses into the living room, seemingly unaware of Jack leaning over the counter, dripping sweat and breathing like he just ran a marathon. He lifts the hem of his shirt and is hit with such a strong, musky odor it catches him off guard. Usually, he has a good handle on that but it's like the sheer amount of sweat, and more testosterone from his bigger balls, has now made his musk stronger, more powerful. He looks at his slightly flabby gut as dark hairs sprout from his waistband and travel up, becoming a tried and true treasure trail. He can see his cock print bulging against his jeans, a couple of damp spots appearing on the front as his cock leaks pre.

Whimpering, he touches the freshly grown hair. His balls pulse again as they swell bigger, and heavier, the size of two large eggs tucked beneath a boner that strains harder, so much blood pounding into it it adds an inch of girth to his 5-incher. As it jets pre at an alarming rate, he can't swallow the moan that explodes from his mouth when he touches his gorgeous, new treasure trail.

"Hey!" Bret calls. "Stop touching yourself and come here."

Gritting his teeth, he tries to will his boner down. This is absurd at this point. His body is still on fire and now the musk wafting from him gets stronger as thicker tufts of dark pit hair spill out of his follicles. He can't walk properly without his thighs brushing against the sensitive head of his cock. He watches it widen, stretching against the fabric as more pre gushes from it. He's so close to orgasm his balls hurt, and that allows him to feel how truly massive they've become. He tries to angle his body away from Bret, sitting far away from him on the couch.

"Can we watch a movie instead?" Bret says, apologetically. "I'm not in the mood to game."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Bret sniffs the air. Jack expects embarrassment but instead he feels ... pride? Something like it. He does smell kind of ... good. If he really thinks about it, he smells -.

"You smell good, babe."

Jack's whole body thrums with energy. When Bret touches his arm in a playful swat, he nearly cums right then and there. He gasps in pleasure as Bret begins scrolling to one of his streaming services. He looks down at his cock and covers his mouth at the shock of seeing at least 6.5 inches of cock against his thigh. It pulses and throbs, needy as fuck. His brain is awash with sensation as his thumb grazes the head, his whole body tingling, and he can feel it flare and he's practically screaming into his palm as his cock grows another full inch, the fabric buckling and stretching to accommodate the nearly 8 inch cock he's sporting. His musk increases in intensity and Bret closes the distance between them. Jack tries closing his legs to prevent their knees from touching but his balls are so big that he moans as his thighs touch them. He manspreads and his leg brushes against Bret's which makes his cock throb again. Now, feeling the flesh stretch and inflate, that glorious swelling that's like the world's most talented mouth giving him a blowjob, he knows he's at a little over 8 inches.

"Bret," he says, sounding like a moan. He can feel the hair race up his torso and carpet his chest. His nipples throb as the hair carpets them and he covers them with his hands as best as he can. Bret doesn't respond, he's reading off the titles of Hallmark movies and selects something about a bookstore. He then turns and looks at the blushing, flustered Jack whose arms are lifted enough to get a direct hit from his glorious pits.

"Fuck, babe, your pits."

Jack nearly screams as Bret gets so close to his pits to get a greedy huff, but not enough to touch. Bret's cock, large but definitely smaller than Jack's new piece, stiffens in his shorts. He feels a little disgusted at the sight but his cock throbs anyway and his nipples surge against his palms as his gut sucks in, the fat melting and hardening, a little traveling down and landing in his ass. He grunts and moans as the fat pours into his ass. Both cheeks tingle as muscle covers some of the fat, the cheeks becoming perkier and blowing up with muscle and fat. He can feel the weight of his fat muscle ass, as his eyes cross, and his vantage point is raised slightly from the sheer size of his ass. His belt strains as his hips crack and pop, strengthening to handle the burden of his voluptuous ass. The skin stretches to accommodate his hefty ass as his briefs can't, and he can feel the waistband stretch and finally snap, his fat ass blossoming against the tight fabric of the jeans. It feels so good, the skin so sensitive, that he nearly blacks out. Then Bret buries his face in his pit, and this is enough to make him cum.

A huge wet spot forms in his jeans as his abs tighten and grow. Small, lean abs that grow beneath his jutting nipples. Any remaining fat siphoned from his gut lands in his growing pecs, the muscles expanding into slabs of beef as Bret worships his pit, the other hand slides onto Jack's growing pecs. He hisses with pleasure as he soaks the jeans with his thick, musky cum. He wants to shove Bret away deeper into his pit, make him let go knead his massive pecs. The end of the orgasm and the settling of a strange haze over his brain makes him push Bret away. Bret looks dazed, dopey with lust, his cock straining his waistband.

"What is happening?"

Now Bret looks confused.

"I was worshipping you, Jacky."

The haze thickens. It feels entirely composed of hormones. He's horny as fuck. His cock twitching and throbbing despite the massive load he's just dumped. He can't think straight, like he's drunk or high or both.

"I thought you liked it when I worshipped you."

Bret sounds so hurt and confused it makes his heart tenderize beneath his growing chest. He huffs and moans as his abs grow bulkier and thicker, deeper ridges cut into the formerly chubby stomach, waist widening as his back and shoulders round. His sweat-soaked shirt splits across the collar as his pecs keep growing, a deep V-shaped tear forming as his pecs heave larger. Two thick slabs of muscle and fat, with two big pink, sensitive nipples capping them. He wants to rub those pecs of his. Wants Bret to do it. He tries thinking of Alana or any of the other hazy girlfriends, but they're all slowly being replaced by men. Burly men, hairy men, bulky men, twinks and twunks, topping them and bottoming for them as his prostate grows more sensitive and swollen. His cock leaks pre like a busted water main. His balls churn and bloat just a tiny bit bigger.

"Let's watch," he sighs as his pecs grow some more, back splitting his shirt, the muscle piling on quicker than he can keep up, "the movie."

"You're not mad at me, babe?"

His throat tingles as his moans suddenly turn more guttural, more like deep rumbling growls. It makes him even hornier, his brain feeling like it's in a hot soup. God it's like he's going through puberty again. He tries desperately to not hump the air in front of him, his cock dripping more pre onto the drying cum-stain on the jeans. The tingling moves to his arms.

"No, of course, NGHHHH not."

Bret smiles and then rests his head on Jack's shoulder. The contact is enough to make his shoulders wider. His back splits the rest of his shirt and now, bare-chested, sweaty and hairy, his musk hits the air unfiltered and his eyes flutter.

"God, how do you get yourself to smell like that?" Bret places his hand on his thigh and Jack can feel the muscles twitch beneath it.

Jack needs to get out of here. Away from Bret. The opening credits roll as Bret lets out a contented sigh. He needs to get up, right now. He presses his hands against the sofa and begins to gingerly rock forward. He moans at the sensation of his cockhead dragging against his jeans. He might look a little weird when he leaves but he'll just go to the gym, right? Balance out his half-transformed body. But right now, he needs to-

"You must produce so much testosterone, Babe."

Flex his bicep.

Muscle piles on, adding to the cubby limb and making his bicep look bigger. His other arm bloats and stretches beneath Bret, who does nothing but readjust his position as the arm he's lying on inflates like a balloon. Jack's bicep blows up and strains the shirtsleeve, pounds of muscle and fat pour into his arms with some overflow dumping into his forearms and thickening palms, the hands becoming big fat mitts. His cock throbs and he moans like a whore as his fat bicep becomes big enough to split the shirtsleeve. He relaxes the muscle and then flexes again, the muscle pulling his skin taut as a little more piles on. It feels so hard to think. He tries to muster the resolve he felt earlier. He feels himself relaxing into the sofa as his cock feels ready to blow again, just seeing his bicep flex and bulge beneath the skin, just to feel that strength and power go all the way down to his massive hands, which crack and bloat bigger, the fingers extending and thickening. Bret wraps his arm around his thick abs and torso, a finger dangerously close to one of Jake's sensitive nipples.

Jake places a big hand on Bret's shoulders. He massages Bret's back and moans as Bret's fingers idly caress his sensitive skin, attention torn between the cheesy movie and his horny boyfriend. That boyfriend, Jake, couldn't care less about what's happening on the TV. His big, thick neck tingles and pleasantly burns as tattoos ink themselves on his skin. He opens his eyes and moans at the sight of the beautiful tattoos forming along his huge arms, a few tattoos forming on the backs of his hands, a huge tat spreading across his massive back. His cock throbs more urgently. He feels like he's one of those dudes that Bret is always fawning over. Constantly horny, dim-witted, possessive. He could pass as one of these ex's distant cousins.

But they don't love him like he does.

"You horny, BABE?"

The intense burst of testosterone causes a moustache to form on his lip. And with that, his face numbs as his hair begins styling itself. He knows, dimly, that this is slowly becoming irreversible. If he was unrecognizable before, as he feels his lips plumpen and begin thick and kissable, his eyes emptying of intelligence but looking oh so horny and dopey, he will be a whole new person. His heart seizes with lust-tainted fear as Bret rubs his cock through the jeans. Jake's head lolls against the couch as his huge, sensitive cock feels molten, lit on fire from the sensations of Bret's warm hand on it. The memories of their friendship begin shifting as reality gives way. He goes through the carousel of exes but occasionally, he can feel Bret's hole clutching around his cock which makes his cock spasm and shoot pre laced with actual cum.

"Damn, BABE..."

Jake's thighs burst with muscle. His quads thicken and inflate as his ass grows a little bigger. His belt strains through the hoops. Frustrated at the sound of creaking leather, Jake undoes his belt buckle, his bigger fingers moving clumsily. He's not used to how heavy he feels as his thighs strain the jeans, fattening and inflating to carry the burden of his swollen upper body and the massive dumptruck ass he's now sporting. His calves become cut from diamonds. He squeezes his thigh as the muscle multiply, thickening until he's sporting a pair of genuine thunder thighs, and feeling the fabric stretch around them gets him so horny he does start humping the air.

His brain feels just as leaden as his limbs as he can feel his IQ drain into his balls. He feels the intensity of all the "I love yous" they've ever uttered pile on top of his numbing brain like concrete. Each one more intense than the last, as he clutches onto Bret's body, literally squeezing his body tight against his bare chest. His man. His. His - his -

Bret looks at him.

"Hey, stud."

Jake grabs a handful of muscle tit, massaging the flesh and feeling his thicker palms drag against his nipples. His face collapses into horny, handsome perfection, his sense of smell awash with his rich, powerful musk as his nose thickens, nostrils flaring. Bret unbuttons the jeans and unzips them. A quick note of panic seizes Jake as the torn remains of his underwear fall to the floor, joining the scraps of his shirt. His chest heaves as he sees his huge cock, pointing straight into the air, thick with a dense head slick with pre, and he can feel the weight of his hairy tennis balls hanging between his legs.

"W - wait, I -"

Bret takes his cock whole. Jake could bust. Fuck, he needs to bust so bad. It doesn't feel like Bret's simply sucking his cock, it's like he's worshipping it. He looks at his boy - friend and feels love swell in his chest in time with his feet. He lays back as Bret begins worshipping his swollen, backed up balls as his feet grow from size 7 to size 8, cruising to size 9s as the soles split the shoes in half, the thick toes ripping through the front. He throws his arms up and exposes his pits, and flexes his bicep. The love he feels to Bret is so intense it feels possessive. Like he owns this man at his knees, looking at Jake with puppy dog eyes, licking and slobbering all over his pole.

His feet finish growing. Size 12 stompers. Thick and musky. Hair curling between his toes as the sensitive feet slide on Bret's floor. He reaches down on instinct and picks up Bret as easily as a sheet of paper and soon, they're making out, sloppily, messy. Jake places his hand on Bret's throat and gently squeezes and Bret literally shudders from the pleasure. Bret moans into Jake's mouth, cock gushing pre. God he didn't know Bret tasted this good. Made him feel this good. A surge of protectiveness and tenderness flares through his brain as the last few digits of his high IQ drain out of his monster cock. He wants to hit the gym after this. He wants to lift. He wants to puff out his chest to the other bros. He wants to show his boyfriend off.

His boytoy.

Wonder what his ass tastes like? He's got this big rough tongue now, he can feel it when he French kisses Bret. The perfect tongue to play with Bret's hole.

He spanks Bret's delicious bubble, and works his hand down his shorts and briefs, extending a meaty finger to his puckering hole.

"I love you," Bret moans.

Jake smirks. Whatever is left of the old Jake is sure to get drained. Along with the new Jake as well. He chuckles at the horny desperation in his man's eyes.

"I know you do." He spanks his boyfriend again. "I love you too."

Then, he guides his man back to his cock. Buries it down his throat.

Bret's hole twitches in anticipation of the fucking yes about to receive. He doesn't even gag.

In the morning, Jake wakes up to his boyfriend entangled in his arms, his morning wood begging for attention and leaking against Bret's ass. He doesn't remember how many rounds they went last night, but it felt like he hadn't buried his cock in Bret's ass in ages. He's not the sharpest tool in the shed but even he knows that's dumb to think. He and Bret go at least 3 rounds a day, maybe more if they've squeezed in a good workout and worship session before Bret went to work and did smart people things like "finance" or whatever he did, and Jake gamed but mostly fucked his fleshlight to relieve his aching balls.

He kisses Bret's shoulder as his man stirs. He wraps his arm tighter, pulling Bret in close. There's marks on his wrist where he tied him up using a belt that, for some reason, didn't fit. Bret could be such a rope bunny when he was in the mood for it.

He gently grinds his hips, sandwiching his cock against Bret's bubbly ass.

"Round 1?" Bret asks, eyes bright.

Jake smirks. He kisses Bret with all the love in the world.

[unabashedtf]

Interactives - Rejuvenation (Part 5)

Part 4

Last choice before the big one of who he's going to be for good!

~~~

Leo. It had to be Leo. It was a strange notion to leave behind being white, it'd never crossed his mind before, but now the option was there he was too curious not to take the chance.

He pushed himself up from being pressed into Leo's bulge and wiggled his way into the hunk's lap. Leo didn't seem to question the sudden control 'Jamie' took, just grinned lazily as Owen sat himself down and leaned in for a kiss.

Just as soon as their lips met the world lurched suddenly. No longer was Owen small and sitting in someone's lap, instead he felt a somewhat familiar heft of muscle and someone grinding against him. Jamie. He'd switched that fast he realised and now had Jamie in his lap.

"Well damn Jamie, keen ain't you?" He spoke slowly, realising his choice of words came out slightly differently, like Leo would have said it. He hadn't noticed it before, but it very well could have been there as other guys too, helping him pass as them. "Don't mind shit though, not when you're so damn cute."

Jamie smirked and winked at him. "I know what you like Leo, why'd you think I keep joining Blaine here?" He leaned in and kept rolling his hips against Owen's bulge. "Especially since I know you love stuffing my ass with both your dicks at once."

Owen's eyes widened at the suggestion. He'd found Blaine's cock alone more than enough as Jamie, but two? That was...

Blaine moved before Owen could finish his thought. He scooped Jamie up which got a yelp of surprise from the twink, then winked at Owen and headed off to where Owen could only assume Leo's bedroom would be.

"Come on Leo, I'll get him ready for us." Owen called as he walked off.

Owen nodded and stood, but caught his reflection before he went anywhere.

It was a trip and a half realising that guy was him. In all the swaps so far he'd never been quite so far from his original self. Dark skin stretched over bulky, sculpted muscles stood out and made him feel so other from himself in the best way possible. The texture of his hair and beard when he ran his hands over them too was wiry and tight, just adding to the whole feeling. This was what being Leo, being black was like.

A high pitched moan from the direction Blaine and Jamie had gone snapped him back into focus.

"Uunnnghhh, Blaine please!" Jamie's voice echoed through the place, making Owen's dick respond with a throb.

He went running, only to see Blaine on his back already balls deep in Jamie's ass. When he noticed Owen standing there he grinned and pulled Jamie forwards just a little, laying him down so Owen could join them and fuck the twink too. That wasn't an offer he was going to pass up on.

"Damn, look at you two." He said as he walked over and stripped out of Leo's jeans. The memory of being both Jamie and Blaine crossed his mind, how hot things had been then. "Can't wait to join you."

"Then hurry up and get that black dick in me, you know I can take it." Jamie almost demanded, horny despite all the sex he'd technically had already.

Owen just nodded and climbed onto the bed on top of the already fucking pair. They slowed down enough that Owen could line up the weapon of a dick between Leo's legs with Jamie's hole. A glance at Jamie and a nod from Blaine had Owen pushing himself forwards, adding his massive dick to the one already there.

He was in charge then. Owen was the one with the most freedom of movement now, so he had to set the pace.

"Hope you're ready for the fuck of your life Jamie." He whispered, then started to thrust.

It started off slow. Owen moving a little to try and figure out his range of movement, how far he could actually go in easily. After a couple of moments he worked it out enough to start hammering himself in a little deeper and really make Jamie whine.

The twink to his credit took it well. Opened himself up enough for Owen to fuck to the best of his ability, and make it sound hot as fuck too. He moaned and babbled about how full he was with his two favourite men in there, made a show of kissing Blaine, and even came hands free all over Blaine's abs.

The whole experience was hands down the hottest thing Owen had done to date.

It could only last so long though. There was only so much time Owen could last with his dick squeezed tight against Blaine's whilst both inside Jamie. Any man would fold in those circumstances. So Owen couldn't be blamed for cumming then. Groaning loud, thrusting as deep as he could go and just letting him shoot his load deep into the body he'd woken up in that morning. At least Blaine wasn't all that far behind him in cumming into Jamie, that made him feel better.

~~~

Half an hour later once they'd all had a chance to recover and clean up Jamie made his excuses to leave. Owen knew full well he had a family brunch to go to that he'd avoided, so he happily waved the guy off at the door when he left to meet them.

Just as he went to close the door someone jogged to a stop at the place opposite Leo's. A shirtless man, probably closer to Owen's original age if he had to guess. Good looking too as far as his beard and well muscled body went. What Owen could have been if things hadn't gotten so in the way.

"Alright guys!" He pulled an earbud out and waved a hand at Leo and Blaine.

Blaine raised a hand and waved back, a gesture Leo quickly mimicked to a man he had to assume was Leo's neighbour. "Hey Mike. Yeah good man, hope the run was good."

"Yeah thanks!" He said before disappearing inside his own place.

Blaine glanced back into Leo's then raised an eyebrow at Owen. "Videogames and order pizza?"

Now they were talking. Owen tried not to eat food like that if he could help it, but a guy like Leo could scoff a whole one and still have incredible abs most likely.

So they wasted hours of the day just chilling together. He hadn't been sure about spending so much time with a bro like Blaine, but once the food and beer got flowing and he got into the games they were playing it was fine. Blaine was a cool guy as far as it went, and Owen didn't find it too hard to settle into the bro mindset. Passing off his initial lack.of skill in the games wasn't too hard; claiming an off day seemed to work on Blaine and get a laugh at him finally beating Leo at them. It was far more relaxing to just turn his brain off and not worry about the deep stuff as Leo.

Eventually though things had to end. It'd been almost 5 hours of just eating, drinking and gaming before Blaine realised what the time was and that he needed to go meet Jamie at the gym. So the fun was coming to an end with Blaine... But that didn't mean it had to stop.

Once Blaine had left the urge to keep enjoying himself before the day ended struck hard. He had an evening left before he'd be locked into whatever life he was in, so this was his last chance to explore. Being Leo was a lot of fun, but Owen wanted to at least see if he could stumble on someone that would interest him more.

~~~

A short while later Owen found himself at a local bar he knew was the hot thing lately.

He'd perched himself at the bar as he tried to get his bearings and look out for anyone that caught his eye. A place like this gave him his picking of anyone hot he could possibly want. Now it was the question of who.

"For you, from the blonde across the bar." The bartender said as he set a glass of whiskey down in front of Owen.

He looked down at the drink, then across at the girl. Curvy in all the right places and a reminder to Owen that he'd considered himself straight once upon a time. She was certainly attractive. He nodded and raised the glass, then took a sip.

Owen turned back to the crowd with his drink to consider his options. It was as he looked out at the people around the centre of the room, all dancing to the beat that someone caught his eye. Dressed differently, but definitely him.

Isaac.

Isaac, the hotshot young guy at his job that always thought he had the right answers but was actually dumber than a box of rocks. The guy Owen always covered for because he was the CEO's son and didn't want to risk pissing the guy off. Something about seeing him now with a backwards cap, no shirt in sight and the obvious band of a jockstrap poking out his booty shorts just made sense. A guy as thickly built as him shaking his massive ass in a place like this wasn't a surprise.

Just as he was considering moving to the dance floor to get a closer look at Isaac a voice came from his left over the deep thump of the music. "Leo? Fancy seeing you here!"

He turned to see the guy from earlier, Leo's neighbour. Owen smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, coincidence eh man! Good to see ya!" He called back.

"I was just going to grab a booth and chill, you're welcome to join me though!" He shouted back before flagging the bartender down.

So Owen had options. Plenty of them he realised for how he could spend his evening before making a final decision. The question was... How?

[unabashedtf]

Witchcraft Testing: Chapter 5 - The Role Reversal

After their fun with Cole was finished — leaving the quarterback a hefty, mind-fogged lineman — Amber and Kira strolled across campus, satisfied but restless.

“What now?” Kira asked, twirling her necklace.

Amber paused. “Let’s see who’s next.”

They wandered past the natatorium, the college’s indoor aquatic center. As they neared the locker room hallway, raised voices echoed inside — sharp, heated.

Inside the men’s locker room stood Zach, a cocky 20-year-old diving star in a tight black speedo, lean and sharp like a blade. Facing him was Coach Delaney, a gruff, pot-bellied man in his 50s, wearing a polo stretched across his gut.

“You’re rushing the third rotation,” Coach growled. “Your height off the board is garbage.”

Zach rolled his eyes. “Your drills are garbage. I nailed that dive, and I don’t need you yelling like it’s 1990.”

Coach snorted. “You think you can coach yourself? I could do a better job at your age.”

Amber turned to Kira with a glint in her eye.

“Let’s give him that chance.”

By the time Zach stepped onto the diving board again, the spell was already working.

He launched himself into a perfect flip — tight form, flawless execution.

But as he broke the surface, something felt off.

He reached the ladder — and struggled. His body felt heavier. His arms thicker. By the time he stood upright on the tile, water poured off a noticeably broader torso.

“What the—” he muttered, tugging at his now-tight speedo, which hugged thicker thighs and a fuller backside.

His lean swimmer’s frame had shifted toward something bulkier — a thicker chest, softening waist, wider shoulders.

“Coach?” a voice called.

Zach turned to see Coach Delaney jogging toward him — but something was wrong. He looked slimmer. His belly had shrunk. His arms looked defined. His polo hung loose.

Zach blinked. “Wait… why’d you call me coach?”

Delaney frowned. “I don't know.”

Zach’s brow furrowed. “what is happening to us?”

They both returned to the locker room, shaken.

Zach stripped off his tight speedo and caught sight of himself in the mirror — bigger, older, still athletic but with a modest belly and salt in his hair.

Across from him, Delaney—now young, lean, fit—stood in oversized coaching shorts, his old polo sliding off his thinner frame.

“I think we… swapped,” Zach said quietly.

Delaney — now Zach — nodded. “And maybe if we… pretend to go with it, it’ll reverse?”

Zach pulled on the too-loose polo. Delaney reluctantly tugged up the snug speedo.

They stared at each other — the former student now looking like a man in his late 40s, and the former coach now a 20-year-old athlete.

Back at the pool, the two resumed “practice.” Zach, now grunting commands from the deck, watched Delaney perform the same dive.

As other divers entered, they greeted Delaney with high-fives and laughter. “Nice jump, man!” “Bryan, that looked clean!”

Then they nodded politely at Zach. “Hey, Coach Zach.”

Zach flinched — but said nothing.

Behind the bleachers, Amber and Kira smiled.

Kira closed the spellbook. “I think that one’s permanent.”

Amber licked her thumb and flipped a page. “Let’s see who else is being a little too full of themselves…”

[unabashedtf]

Witchcraft Testing: Chapter 4 - Fall from the Top

Cole Merrick stood tall on the practice field in full gear — helmet off, golden hair tousled, shoulder pads tight over his V-shaped frame, and his jersey tucked crisply over his sculpted abs. His cleats dug into the turf as he wound up for another deep pass.

From behind the bleachers, Amber, Kira, and the scorned ex-girlfriend watched.

“He’s so proud of himself,” Amber muttered.

“Let’s weigh him down a little,” Kira smirked, flipping to a page in the grimoire titled Massum Inceptio.

They chanted.

Cole blinked.

His stance felt… different. He exhaled through his nose and adjusted his belt line. Weird, he thought. His pads were suddenly a bit tighter, jersey stretching strangely around his midsection. His pants gripped harder at the waist.

He flexed his arms, chalking it up to pump. “Guess I’m just swole today,” he muttered and jogged toward the sideline.

He sat on the bench, casually unzipping his duffel. His stomach growled — hard.

“Damn, I need fuel.” He pulled out a protein bar and unwrapped it in one motion.

A teammate passed by. “Yo, Cole… you might wanna chill on the chocolate bars, man.”

Cole paused mid-bite, confused.

“What chocolate—?”

He looked down.

The bar was now clearly a milk chocolate bar — thick, sweet, half-eaten in his gloved hand. “What the—?”

He tossed the wrapper aside, standing up quickly, his breath heavier than expected.

Jogging back onto the field, he felt it.

His chest heaved.

His body shook slightly with every step.

By the time he reached the line, he had to bend over, gasping. His gut pressed against his jock under the pads. His jersey rode up, revealing soft skin and the start of a belly.

“What the hell is going on?” he muttered.

His stance faltered. He turned, excused himself quickly, and jogged — no, waddled — off the field, visibly winded.

Inside the locker room, his helmet and pads hit the bench with a thud. He stood in just his football pants, chest heaving, sweat dripping.

Then, without realizing, his hand reached into his open locker.

Another chocolate bar.

It was already unwrapped.

Half-eaten.

“W-what the hell am I doing?”

He flung it across the room, the wrapper spinning. His breath quickened as he moved toward the mirror. What he saw made him freeze.

Thicker neck. Rounder face. Arms beefier. Gut softly hanging over his belt.

“No. No, I’m just bulking—cutting season’s coming, that’s all.”

But his voice cracked. He didn’t sound like Cole Merrick anymore.

The door slammed open.

A group of guys from the team entered, laughing and half-undressed. “Yo, big guy!” one shouted.

Cole turned. “Wha—?”

Another player smirked. “Didn’t know you could run that fast, man. Guess you really needed that snack.”

Cole blinked. “Snack?”

He looked down. Another chocolate bar was in his hand. Half gone.

He dropped it like it burned him. Someone called out, “Five second rule!” Laughter exploded.

Cole opened his mouth to argue—but a haze slipped over his brain.

He blinked slowly. They’re laughing, yeah, but it’s not at me... I’m cool. They like me… right?

He smiled sheepishly and scratched his now-thicker belly. “Heh… guess I like my sweets.”

The haze thickened.

Cole’s thoughts slowed. Words felt... longer. He scratched his gut and flexed an arm.

Wait… I’m the QB, right? Wait—why they call me big guy? But the idea faded. It wasn’t important. He was just part of the team.

“C’mon, man,” one lineman said, slapping his back. “Shower up, hog.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Okay…”

Warm water steamed the mirrors.

Cole stepped into the tile stall with the others, dragging his heavy frame along. His jockstrap clung tightly to him… but it didn’t matter.

Until he looked down.

His belly now fully hung over his groin. He couldn’t see his dick. He searched — moving flesh aside, sucking in air. When he found it, it looked… small.

Not just hidden. Shrunken.

“What the hell…” he whispered.

Then, a teammate stepped up behind him, towel slung low.

“Time,” he said simply.

Cole turned, confused. “Time for what?”

But his body responded without question.

A pulse surged in his core. He felt his hole twitch, his hips arch slightly. His mind screamed no, but his body submitted with quiet obedience.

He was still Cole — somewhere — but now he was just another big, bottom-heavy lineman… and everyone knew it.

[unabashedtf]

Interactives - Rejuvenation (Part 4)

Part 3

Shorter one, but an important choice!

~~~

"I'll go with you. Would be good to see him again." Owen said with a smile.

In reality Owen didn't want to deal with Jamie's family. This body was hot and fun, but he wasn't mentally prepared to deal with people that probably knew Jamie well enough to spot an imposter. At least not right now before he made a final decision at the end of the day. It'd be best to get out of Jamie for the time being so as to not accidentally screw up his life.

"Then we better get up and going eh? You know Leo don't like to wait." Blaine smirked a little and squeezed an arm around Owen's waist. "Especially when he knows you're coming." Blaine pushed himself up off the bed and held a hand out to Owen. "Shower?"

Owen nodded and let himself be pulled up. This Leo would certainly be interesting, and he hoped an opportunity to get out of family brunch.

~~~

An hour and a half later Owen and Blaine were outside Leo's apartment.

Showering together had left to Owen getting his brains well and truly fucked out by Blaine against the shower wall. It'd taken all through the subsequent breakfast for his ass to calm down enough he could walk properly. That'd made Blaine laugh, but he was happy to cook for them both before they left.

That brought them to now, waiting for the mysterious Leo Blaine was good friends with to answer the door.

"Yo bro! Finally!" Leo's voice came once the door was open and the guy emerged. "And Jamie too, man I missed you little guy."

Owen blushed at the sight of the shirtless guy before him. All dark muscle and clearly interested in himself enough to wander around shirtless when he was expecting company. Yet Owen was still attracted to him. He was getting more gay with each swap it felt like.

"Yeah, good to see you too Leo." He looked up at the guy who stood almost a foot taller than Jamie.

When they moved to head inside Owen quickly realised what was about to happen. When Blaine had a hand on one ass cheek and Leo had a hand on the other the type of encounter this was became all too clear. And the reason for Leo's state of undress became far more clear too. This was always going to happen when he agreed to join Blaine seeing Leo.

His suspicions were all but confirmed when the door closed behind them and he was led into the living room. Leo squeezed Jamie's ass and shared a knowing glance with Blaine before he moved away and sat down, legs spread wide.

"Well then Jamie, missed me?" Leo grabbed his bulge and winked. "Certain something I know you've been missing."

Owen just nodded silently as he looked between Blaine and Leo. He didn't have words at the moment, none accurate enough to explain how he was feeling. Horny? Absolutely. But it was more than that.

"Don't be shy Jamie, go sit down." Blaine whispered, then gave Owen a slight push.

He stumbled forward a few steps and dropped to his knees in front of Leo. That impressive bulge was right in his face, hidden just barely by Leo's jeans. All he'd have to do was-

Owen gasped as Leo pulled him down so his face was right up against the very thing he'd been staring at. That heavy smell of man Owen was getting so used to was right in his face, filling his senses with Leo completely. He let out an involuntary whine as he felt a hand tightening in his hair; Leo's no doubt.

"Blaine's dick ain't bad and all, but we both know shit don't compare to your favourite black dick." Leo chuckled.

As Blaine came to sit down beside Leo Owen was reminded of his thought from earlier. He could swap into one of these men if he wanted, kissing either wouldn't be a challenge. He could easily return to Blaine, and Leo would be easy too. Becoming black though made him a little nervous; Owen wasn't racist or anything but it would be different to say the least. He'd never considered being another ethnicity until now. Or he could stay as he was and not swap, meaning he'd have to go to brunch with Jamie's family after all and meet his new brother and father.

[unabashedtf]

Witchcraft Testing: Chapter 3 - Welcome to the Team

The gym doors creaked open.

Evan stepped inside, massive in his tight jockstrap and team-issued wrestling hoodie. His thick thighs rubbed together with every step. His traps rose high, stretching the fabric at the neckline. Every part of him radiated power, confidence, dominance — even if deep down, his thoughts were still trying to catch up.

As he entered the wrestling room, several guys turned. “Yo, Evan!” “You made weight?” “Dude’s looking like a f*cking monster!”

They greeted him like a regular — a star. One guy clapped him on the shoulder, another fist-bumped him. A few slapped his back.

They knew him.

He didn’t remember any of them… but they knew him — this version of him.

Evan tried to play it cool, masking his unease behind a cocky grin. “Y-yeah, what can I say? Been putting in work.”

As the team gathered to stretch, he followed along instinctively. His body knew what to do, even if his brain was struggling.

In the far corner of the bleachers, Amber and Kira sat silently, watching him blend in.

Kira whispered, “He’s adapting faster than I thought.”

Amber smirked. “They always do when we build them right.”

A voice interrupted their pride.

From below them, in the stairwell just outside the gym, they heard muffled sobbing. A girl — brunette, soft features, clearly shaken — was venting to a friend.

“…I can’t believe he did that. He’s such a pig. I walked in and he had her in his lap. Shirtless. Like I was nothing. He didn’t even try to deny it…”

The friend murmured something back, but the girls above were already interested.

Amber raised an eyebrow. “Pig, huh?”

Kira leaned forward. “She say he’s a jock?”

“She said he was shirtless. I’d bet money he’s a football guy.”

Amber stood and gracefully walked down the steps. “Let’s meet our next project.”

The crying girl looked up, startled, as Amber and Kira approached.

“Hey,” Amber said gently. “Sorry to interrupt… but we couldn’t help overhearing. That guy… sounds like a total dick.”

The girl wiped her face. “He is. I wasted months on him. Thought he was sweet. But he’s just like every other guy on that stupid team.”

Kira tilted her head. “Quarterback?”

The girl nodded. “Of course. Cole Merrick. Thinks he’s untouchable.”

Amber and Kira exchanged a look.

Amber leaned in close, voice like velvet. “Would you… want to get a little revenge?”

The girl blinked. “What do you mean?”

Kira pulled a small, hand-etched charm from her necklace and twirled it between her fingers. “We’re not like most girls.”

The brunette hesitated. Then her pain twisted into a faint, curious smile. “…What would you do to him?”

Amber’s grin widened.

Outside, on the field behind the gym, Cole Merrick — the star quarterback — stood shirtless with a ball in his hand, throwing passes into a practice net. His golden hair was tousled, his abs glistening with sweat, and his smirk was cocky enough to punch.

He laughed to himself, phone in hand, texting multiple girls without shame.

Behind a row of bleachers, three figures watched him.

Amber whispered, “Let’s see how he likes being rewritten.”

Kira opened the spellbook. “This one… is going to be fun.”

[unabashedtf]

Interactives - Rejuvenation (Part 3)

Part 2

~~~

Owen was torn. He didn't know who this "Bro" was, but hanging out could be interesting. On the other hand he could feel Blaine was packing and getting his dick wet was an alluring thought now he was young and hot.

❤️: Come on... You know you want this...

Owen stared down at the picture that had pinged through on his phone. Whoever this guy was he was horny for Blaine and willing to play dirty. And with an ass as perfect as that who was he to say no? The decision has practically been made for him.

Blaine: I'm coming over. Be ready for me 😈

As soon as he sent the text he said the phone away and kicked the stand up from the bike. He had an ass to fuck.

~~~

A short while later he was pulling into an apartment block. Owen hadn't known where he was going consciously but drove here anyway. Muscle memory or whatever you wanted to call it, but he was glad of it. Especially when that same muscle memory led him into the front door he needed, led him to know it would already be unlocked too.

He set his bike helmet down by the door and kicked his boots off, then stalked his way to the bedroom as he stripped. He wasn't about to waste a second.

"There you are." The twink glanced back at Owen and smiled. "Knew you'd want some fun Blaine."

Owen just grinned and moved to the bed, settling onto it so his thick cock pressed between the twink's cheeks. He was so much bigger than him in more ways than one, but right now those ways made it easy to grab his hands and pin him to the bed. The yelp he got in response just made his dick throb.

"Blaine and Jamie, we fit together pretty good don't we? Your cock feels so huge Blaine, hurry up and fuck me." The twink moaned as he arched his back to press his ass against Owen.

Jamie, so that was his name. Owen was more than happy to give the guy what he wanted, especially when he was so needy about it.

"If that's what you want, then so be it." Owen whispered.

He held Jamie's hips and raised them just a little to get a better angle. He could feel the slick of lube already when the head of his dick reached Jamie's tight hole; the guy had prepared already clearly which Owen was glad of. Not being experienced in gay sex it was a detail he'd forgotten about, but Jamie and Blaine did this enough that he hadn't.

Pushing into Jamie's ass was hot in multiple ways. The tight heat of his hole was something Owen had never got a chance to experience in his own abandoned life, and now he could understand why gay men liked it so much. The sounds Jamie made when he slid the first few inches of Blaine's dick into him too were some of the most arousing sounds he'd ever heard; a genuine mix of mostly pleasure with just a hint of pain from the stretch. It was a sound that shot straight to his full balls.

The further he pushed Blaine's 8 inches in the better he felt. There was no question about his attraction to men now, not when Jamie's ass was turning him on so badly.

"Prepared for me? God you're a slut aren't you Jamie?" He breathed as inches 6 and 7 disappeared into the twink.

A blissful grin spread over Jamie's face and he nodded. "Only for you Blaine."

Once Owen felt his balls slap against Jamie's he knew he was fully buried inside him. He leaned down and started to kiss the back of Jamie's neck, letting himself just absorb the feeling. He kissed his way up to Jamie's neck, making the twink once again moan under his touch.

"Blaine... Stop teasing and fuck me Blaine..." Jamie whined.

Owen nodded. He wasn't going to stop kissing Jamie's neck, but he was going to start moving his hips to thrust his hard length in and out of Jamie as requested. Slow at first whilst he tried to find a good angle, and give Jamie the chance he properly needed to get used to a cock this big.

"Like that?" He murmured.

Jamie nodded, eyes closed as he relished in the feeling. "Yeah... God yeah Blaine you're so big."

One particular thrust of his hips made Jamie gasp and turn his head back to look at Owen as Jamie's prostate was slammed into. In that same moment Owen went in to kiss Jamie's again just behind his ear, mind filled with how glad he was to have swapped with Owen. Their lips collided and Owen...

Was moaning at the sudden and intense feeling of Blaine's huge thick cock deep in his ass. He'd swapped again, this time into the cute twink he'd been about to keep pounding the life out of.

Owen wanted to try and kiss Blaine again to swap back, but then like a pro Blaine snapped his hips hard and fast and lightning shot through Owen's small body. A slutty moan slipped from his lips and he threw his head back, involuntarily pushing his ass back onto Blaine's cock.

So bottoming felt good too he now knew.

Just because he was getting fucked though that didn't mean Owen had to give up control. Blaine might be fucking him and forcing moan after moan out of him, but Owen could still have his own fun with this. He could switch back later, but for now he had a plan.

He waited a moment, then with a sudden jerk pushed back up against Blaine's bulky frame. The dude was strong, but Jamie's body was no slouch. The surprise of it all was his best advantage, coupled with Blaine's distraction left Owen sitting in Blaine's lap with a confused looking Blaine below him.

"Jamie babe, what the f-" Blaine frowned, but was cut off my Owen's finger pressed against his lips.

He shook his head and smiled. "Shhhh, let me try something new. You just relax, let me do the work for once."

Blaine seemed skeptical, but not against whatever game his lover was playing. Owen could tell Jamie was never this bold, but he wasn't about to just lay back like some pillow princess, that wasn't his style.

So instead he leaned down and held Blaine's hands above his head, then started to bounce his ass up and down on the cock filling him. It was new, and different like all this was, but riding Blaine's cock was a type of new he was starting to enjoy. He even kissed Blaine too as he fucked himself on the man's cock, pointedly not thinking about swapping though so he could keep enjoying this feeling. It hadn't been planned, but Owen was too deep into the idea and loving it now. He was going to get an ass full of cum before anything else.

And that ass full of came sooner than he expected.

Blaine was more overwhelmed from the new position than he'd let on. He moaned and thrust his hips up slightly, but all together was coming unraveled under Owen's assault of him. A final cry a short while later and Owen could feel a sudden heat and fullness inside him that meant one thing; Blaine had cum. That seemed to tip him over the edge too, letting his stolen load loose all over Blaine's sculpted and in what would soon be a sticky mess.

"Holy shit little man..." Blaine breathed once Owen had eased off his cock and nestled in beside him.

Owen nodded, then yawned before he could reply. "Yeah... Thought you'd like that." He said, unable to keep his eyes open all of a sudden. "We should clean up..."

Blaine curled an arm around his waist and pulled him closer, letting Owen rest his head on his massive chest. "Shhh, that can wait. Sleep baby, shower's there in the morning."

Owen didn't protest at that. He could worry about cleaning and swapping and anything else when he woke up, but for now he needed rest. It'd been quite an eventful day after all.

~~~

Waking up all small wrapped in Blaine's arms the next morning was oddly comforting. Cocky as he might have come across at the gym, it seemed Blaine did have an affectionate side. One that had a soft spot for a certain pretty little twink, hence how he'd named Jamie in his phone.

He yawned and stretched, then let his eyes flutter open. Owen looked up to see Blaine smiling down at him, so Owen smiled back.

"Morning handsome. Last night was fun." He said, blushing a little.

Blaine nodded and squeezed his arms slightly tighter around Owen's waist. "You can say that again. Never seen you so dominant but won't lie Jamie, you riding me was hot as fuck. Never stop surprising me do you?"

Owen laughed. If only Blaine knew.

"No, I guess I don't." He replied simply.

"Good. That's what I like about you. That and your ass." Blaine grinned. "Not sure what you've got going on but I was going to go hang with Leo in a bit. He texted me same time you did yesterday and obviously I chose you. Welcome to join me though, you know he likes seeing you too. Though I know you've got that brunch thing with your brother and your Dad, so your choice."

Owen nodded, pausing to consider things a moment. Should he go meet this Leo character, or stick to Jamie's plans? Either way could lead to another potential swap, though hopefully more intentional than this last one had been.

[unabashedtf]

Witchcraft Testing: Chapter 2 - Jock Awakens

Evan stood in the campus bathroom, stripped of his shirt and jeans, his wrestling singlet pulled down to his waist. His chest was broad, his arms thick. And standing before him were Amber and Kira, the two girls who had turned his life upside down with nothing but whispered spells.

“I… I’ve never been this close with girls before,” he stammered. “Not like this. I’m not used to it.”

Amber smiled and stepped closer, fingertips grazing his firm abs. “But you like it, don’t you?”

Evan’s breath hitched. “Y-yeah. I mean… thank you. I guess I’m just… overwhelmed.”

Kira leaned in behind him, whispering into his ear. “Then let us help you… relax.”

Amber walked forward, fingertips grazing his side. “You’re grateful, right? For what we’ve done for you?”

“I mean, yeah—sorta? I-I guess?”

He looked down awkwardly. His posture was still nervous, his shoulders tensed despite their new width.

“Then let us look at our work.”

They slid their fingers under his shirt and pulled it off. The fabric peeled away, revealing the thick straps of the singlet. Then they undid his jeans, sliding them down over his thick thighs.

Evan was now standing in just the singlet, pulled tight against his body.

Then Amber gripped the top of the singlet and pulled it down to his waist, exposing his chest — broad, muscular, slightly sweaty — and his stomach.

“Still a little soft,” Kira teased, poking his belly.

The girls pressed their palms to his skin and chanted together. A wave of heat rolled through Evan’s core. His breath caught in his throat.

His belly tightened beneath their touch, firming into a cut six-pack right before their eyes. Each line of muscle carved itself deeper as his waist narrowed. Evan gasped, watching the change unfold in the mirror.

“Holy shit…”

Amber leaned in, lips grazing the side of his neck. “You’re perfect now.”

“I… I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he whispered, but didn’t resist.

Their hands roamed his body — over his broad chest, across his thick arms, down the curve of his glutes hugged tightly by the jockstrap. He moaned softly as they began to worship the body they had created, kissing his neck, nipping at his chest, fingers exploring his powerful new form.

Kira whispered another enchantment as she ran her fingers up his inner thigh.

“Let’s make the inside match the outside.”

They chanted again — this one longer, deeper.

Evan blinked. Something felt… different.

His posture straightened. His shoulders rolled back.

His lips curled into a smirk.

“Damn… you girls really know what you’re doing,” he said, voice suddenly deeper, smoother, almost cocky.

He startled himself.

“Wait—what did I just say?”

His posture shifted again — standing tall, proud, flexed. His voice deepened as he murmured, “You girls like what you see, huh?”

Then he blinked. Wait—why did he say that?

His thoughts were getting… louder. Simpler. He felt dominant, full of heat, lust, and ego. His doubts were melting.

“I bet you love these muscles, huh? Damn, I feel huge,” he muttered, flexing a thick bicep.

Kira laughed. “I think you’re starting to get into character.”

Evan rubbed his hand down his abs, grinning. “Shit… I look jacked. You like my chest, huh?” He flexed without thinking, pecs bouncing once.

“I bet you love the way I fill out this singlet…”

Amber giggled. “There it is.”

But Evan’s eyes widened.

“No… no, I don’t talk like this. I’m not like this.” Yet the voice coming from his mouth was all jock bro. Confident. Casual. Slightly arrogant.

New memories rushed in like a wave. He could see himself on the wrestling mat. Hear the crowd. He remembered earning his scholarship, cutting weight, flexing for fun in the mirror.

His old life was fading.

Kira looked to Amber. “Let’s finish him. Just to see how far it can go.”

Amber pushed him back gently until he leaned against the wall. “You’re not done growing, Evan. Let’s make you our heavyweight.”

As Amber kissed down his abs and Kira slid her hands over his chest, they cast the final spell — one charged with lust, dominance, and mass.

Evan groaned loudly as his body exploded with growth. His chest surged forward, pecs becoming heavy slabs of meat. His shoulders ballooned, arms growing thicker by the second. His legs widened, thighs turning into monstrous pillars of strength. His neck thickened, traps rising like mountains. His jockstrap strained as his entire lower half filled with size and heat, the straps biting into his new mass.

They kissed him, touched him, claimed him as he transformed — and Evan couldn’t hold back. He moaned and gasped, his brain lighting up with pleasure and confusion.

By the time the spell ended, he was massive. A dominant, heavy-lidded, 270-lb monster of a man, panting and slick with sweat.

The girls stepped back, admiring their work.

Kira whispered, “He’s perfect.”

Amber giggled, then turned and walked out with her, leaving the bathroom.

Evan stood there alone, barefoot, shirtless, with only his tight black jockstrap still on. His massive pecs rose and fell with each breath. His muscles twitched, pumped from the final surge.

His eyes scanned the mirror — he didn’t recognize the man staring back.

“I’m… I’m a beast,” he muttered, voice deep, husky. Then, more confidently: “Damn right I am…”

He gasped. “Wait… why did I—?”

More memories flooded in: Practices. Weigh-ins. Wrestling tournaments. Girls all over him. Confidence, swagger, dominance.

His thoughts were a swirl.

Who was he? Was he still Evan? Or was he just a walking muscle god now? He could barely think — and when he did, the thoughts were simple, loud, and bro-y.

He flexed and muttered: “Damn… I’m a fuckin’ beast…”

Then blinked. “No, that’s not… I don’t talk like that.”

But deep down, something told him: Yes, bro. You do now.

But under all of it… he was still Evan. Buried beneath the muscles. And now, he had no idea if he could ever go back.

[unabashedtf]

Interactives - Rejuvenation (Part 2)

Part 1

~~~

The gym. That had to be the place to go for the most choice of men. How he'd end up getting close enough to kiss someone there, but being young and hot would certainly help some.

After snooping around Troy's room he found shorts and a t-shirt that would do well enough for the gym. A bag by the door would do, which already seemed to have a water bottle and whatever else he needed for the gym inside. He could fill that up on his way out he hoped.

He was as quiet as possible walking out, not wanting to disturb anyone that may or may not be in the house. There were a couple of other closed doors, but if he could avoid awkward conversations with people he should but didn't know, that would be best. He still didn't feel settled enough in being young and attractive to blag his way through a conversation with family.

~~~

An hour later he was parking in Troy's beat up car outside the closest gym he'd been able to find online. He was glad to see as he got out and headed inside there were already a handful of cars and a sweet motorbike parked up too, so he should he hoped have his pick of men.

"Hey Troy, early one for you man!" The guy behind the desk waved as Owen walked in.

So Troy came here already. Didn't surprise Owen to find that out given it was the closest one to where he lived.

"Yeah... Dude. Just wanted to get on with it today right?" His attempt to act normal and talk like he thought these guys did probably wasn't amazing, but it didn't need to be.

"Right on!" The guy grinned and buzzed him through the doors. "Been telling you that for months bro, glad it finally sunk in. Have a good one T."

Owen nodded silently and just headed on inside. He was already way far out of his comfort zone, he'd barely set foot inside a gym like this one before, but he had to try. Had to try and blend in with the range of people he could see getting on with their workouts. Had to try and get into the mindset of being young and sexy, because if this was all to be believed this that would be his life most likely.

So Owen dropped his gym bag off in a locker then headed out to the main gym.flopr to scope out potential targets.

It took time though.

First off he just worried about blending in. He watched and mimicked people, mixed in with exercises he'd seen on TV and tried in brief stints of motivation to workout in the past. With this body though it came far more naturally than he ever expected. Owen found himself upping the weights and experimenting a little, actually properly enjoying himself for the first time in a long time.

That's when he saw him.

There had been plenty of acceptable options he could have gone for, but no one that drew him in. Until Mr tall, tatted bad boy walked around the corner and towards the bench press Owen had been thinking about trying out.

They locked eyes for the smallest moment, and in that moment Owen knew that's the man he wanted to try being. Someone powerful, someone people found intimidating rather than passing over. Someone that couldn't be ignored.

Now he just had to kiss the guy, which Owen was dreading trying to do. How he was meant to find an excuse for that he had no idea. How did you kiss someone that hot?

As it turned out though, Owen didn't need to worry. As the nameless hunk walked by he winked at Owen and glanced at the locker room, clearly hinting at something that Owen was too out of touch to know what. But he had a damn good guess. He'd never considered himself attracted to men exactly, but then he never had time in his life to really dwell on it. If this guy wanted some alone time, then maybe that was just what he needed. So off Owen followed, nervous but excited all the same.

He found the guy shirtless waiting when he got inside. "Knew you'd follow. Can always see when someone's looking at me a little too long." He not so subtly dropped a hand to his bulge and smirked. "Want this then don't ya?"

"I... Don't really know what I'm doing." Owen admitted. He'd never been with anyone like this guy if that's what was going on.

The guy stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's all good. First time fucking at a gym? Relax little dude. I'm Blaine. You are?"

Owen opened his mouth to give his own name, but stopped short. He wasn't Owen. "I'm Troy."

"Troy." Blaine licked his lips and took another step closer. "Nice name. How about we start simple?"

Blaine closed his eyes and leaned in, and Owen knew this was his moment. He could swap with this guy if he wanted, and he did want. So he closed his eyes too and closed the distance, thinking as the letter had told him to on swapping and having that guy's body for his own.

The world lurched around him, and suddenly Owen felt heavy. Bulky imposing. It had worked. It had actually worked. Owen pulled back and saw the face he'd been wearing moments ago looking back at him. He was Blaine for real.

"Sorry dude, but I should really get back to my workout." Troy said, looking a little sheepish. "Maybe I'll see you around some time, but doing that shit here is way too risky broski. Not outing myself on an accident, sorry man." He smirked a little. "Plus, I already blew like three times this morning."

With that Troy winked and gave him a small nod and turned to head back into the gym.

So Troy hadn't seen his actions as anything out of the ordinary, that was interesting. He remembered them as if they were his own. And whether he was straight or not before this he was clearly into men enough now that he would have considered hooking up with Blaine. So anything Owen did these people would justify if he chose to leave. Interesting.

Owen turned back to the locker room and glanced at the open bag on the bench. Blaine's black tank lay on top of it, so it had to be his. Much as he knew it suited him, Owen didn't want to put on another man's sweaty clothes, not yet. So he pulled the bag to him and dug around inside until he pulled out a change of clothes that would have to do for now.

Minutes later he was dressed and couldn't believe how good he looked. This guy was one hell of a pick, all tall and hunky, built like a guy that lived and breathed the gym and wasn't afraid of that. He couldn't help snap a quick picture or two on Blaine's phone when he looked this good; Blaine's attitude and confidence was rubbing off on him already.

Now he just needed to get out of here. Owen wasn't in the business of hanging around somewhere a body he'd accidentally stolen was, so he wanted to get as far away from Troy as possible.

He dug around and found a set of keys in Blaine's bag, then with those and the bag in hand headed out to find whatever car it was Blaine drove.

Once out of the building and in the middle of the cars he clicked the electric fob and glanced around to try and spot something responding. Nothing. He couldn't see any of them responding, so he tried again. Then a third time. Was it possible Blaine parked somewhere else?

Just as he was about to give up hope he turned back to the front of the building and clicked it one more time. The headlight on the motorbike flashed, making Owen pause.

No way. It made sense now he thought about it, but seriously? He was about to ride out of here on that sweet ride? Dreams really did come true.

He didn't have a plan exactly, but he was going to enjoy this.

~~~

By the time Owen was done riding the sun was setting. He was miles from the city, practically in the middle of nowhere. But that was the thrill of it. He felt more free than he'd been in a long time. Just him and a borrowed bike against the world. He'd stopped briefly at a place by the side of the road for food, but besides that he'd just ignored everything and just let the bike take him wherever it did.

He should be getting back though. The only problem? He didn't have a clue the way. Luckily he was fairly sure he'd left Blaine's phone in his bag when he'd got on the bike which should be able to direct him back.

A minute of digging around revealed it, and switching it on revealed several notifications including missed texts.

The first was from a contact titled "Bro", the second more cryptically just a single heart "❤️". This wasn't his life, but Owen was curious enough to snoop.

Bro: Yo Blaine! You wanna come chill? Been ages since we vibed, I miss you man! Hit me up dawg!

❤️: When are you gonna come over?? 🥺 My ass is lonely at home here without you...

Owen slid the phone into his pocket and looked out at the sunset. Could he poke into Blaine's life and see what was going on? Or was it best to leave it be? He wasn't at all sure...

[unabashedtf]

Interactives - Rejuvenation

Trying something different, make sure to vote in the poll at the end! Update: Read part 2 now!

Part 2

~~~

"Yeah, it'll be sorted for Monday, thanks Jackie."

Owen hung up the zoom call when his boss finally stopped talking and adding to his list of things to do. He sat back in his desk chair and groaned. At 47 he'd always prided himself on working hard and doing whatever was asked, but that had left him here at 7pm on a Friday evening only just finishing work for the day.

He glanced around his home office and sighed. There had to be more to life than being the older, balding man always underappreciated and overworked. He did his best with his job and appearance and life overall, but there was always more. More health problems getting in the way, more workload with little reward. He was tired of it all.

But all that was for another day. For tonight at least he could relax, but his feet up and look forward to a weekend of whatever he wanted.

If only he knew what he was in for.

~~~

Owen frowned the following morning when light was pouring into his bedroom. With the blackout blinds he knew he owned he wasn't sure why that would have been saved for them falling down in the night.

"What on-"

The sound of his voice made Owen pause. That wasn't his voice. That was the voice of someone half his age.

He leapt out of bed and found a nearby mirror, only to stop short at what he saw.

Owen couldn't have looked older than 21. Tight and toned without being bulky, his body looked like someone naturally athletic who barely tried to look effortlessly hot. Someone with the advantages of youth on their side. He looked incredible if he allowed himself to think that. Young, handsome and more hung than he was used to, it was all a lot.

Owen's first stop before he figured out how this all happened was to jerk off. A young hot body and a slightly above average cock left little other priorities for a man that hadn't had abs this sculpted ever. So if he took some time in front of the mirror, in the bed and in the adjoining shower to 'appreciate' himself then who could blame him?

Stroking that cock, flexing his perfect body, all of it was so new and different from what he was used to. He was lucky if he had it in him for once a day before, but he'd cum three times by the time he was finished and satisfied he was done. Oh the stamina of the young.

It was an hour after waking up he finally got around to actually trying to figure things out. A wallet revealed this guy's name was Troy Davis, 20 years old and Canadian. So location wise he was a country away from the US where he'd always lived, and over two decades away in age.

There was something that caught his eye he'd missed the first time though. A letter in an ink that almost glowed on the page, pinned to the mirror where he could have sworn it wasn't before. He snatched it up, especially when he saw his own name at the top...

Owen

In need of some rejuvenation in your life, here's your chance. The LifeCorp Lottery has landed you with a chance to take up the life of someone else. We've taken a selection based on your desires and put you in a life we think you'll enjoy!

Not happy? No worries!

You can select a new life from those around you. Just kiss someone with the intention of becoming them and you'll find yourself in their life! Whoever you are by Monday morning will be you forever!

We hope you enjoy whatever new self you choose to be!

Our best,

LifeCorp Lottery Team

So he could become anyone he met, and he had all weekend to decide? He could keep this life or take any other he wished? Now he just had to figure out what he wanted, but he was definitely going to explore his options.

Troy here was a looker, a young, cocky jock type just coming into his own with limitless potential. Someone he could make into whoever he wanted. But was that the life he dreamed of?

[unabashedtf]

Witchcraft Testing: Chapter 1 - Lecture Hall Alterations

It started as a dare.

Two college girls — Amber and Kira — sat in the back row of their sociology class, leaning close over a worn leather-bound spellbook. Both had dabbled in witchcraft over the summer, but today was their first time testing it publicly.

Their target?

Evan — a below-average guy with a forgettable presence. Short brown hair, a tired T-shirt, faded jeans, and a slouch that practically screamed “invisible.” He always sat near the front, took too many notes, and never got noticed.

Amber smirked. “He’s tragically plain,” Amber whispered. "Let’s make him hot. Like, painfully hot.”

Kira grinned. “Start downstairs?”

Amber murmured a spell under her breath and flicked a pen in Evan’s direction.

Up front, Evan was focused on the lecture… until he wasn't. A tightness bloomed in his lap — not arousal, but pressure. Something shifting. He twitched in his seat and subtly adjusted himself. Again. And again.

At first, he thought it was just how he was sitting. But the pressure in his crotch kept growing — a warm, unfamiliar fullness. He shifted his legs. Adjusted himself. Tried not to draw attention.

But his jeans weren’t giving him much room. It felt like something had inflated in his pants.

Why did it feel like he was wearing a damn grapefruit in his pants?

Behind him, the girls giggled.

Amber elbowed Kira. “He’s shifting around like crazy.”

“Let’s give him the ass to match.”

Another whispered spell, a snap of the fingers — the magic took hold.

Evan winced. Now his jeans felt tighter in the back, clinging aggressively to his thighs. He pulled at the waistband awkwardly. But it didn’t help — the upper swell of his crack peeked out over his jeans no matter how he tugged.

He stood up slightly in his seat, re-adjusted again. His newly grown ass was now round, high, and springy, shaped like a jock’s dream. He had no idea.

Amber leaned forward. “Boxers? That won’t do. He’s a jock now.”

Another spell hit.

Evan twitched in his seat, his face going still. The cotton support around his crotch had changed. The fabric felt taut now, supportive but exposed.

His boxers were gone, replaced with a tight jockstrap. His eyes widened. He could feel it — the straps across his ass cheeks, the waistband digging in…

“What the hell is going on,” he whispered under his breath, legs clamped shut. He looked pale.

Amber grinned. “I say we give him a proper height for all that meat.”

With a pulse of magical energy, Evan’s spine lengthened. His legs stretched under his desk, knees suddenly bumping against the metal. His shirt rode up over his stomach.

He glanced down, stunned — his T-shirt no longer covered him fully. He looked… taller. Broader, his body grew up past 6 feet from his former 5’8”.

Evan stood quickly, cheeks burning, and muttered, “Bathroom,” before hustling out of the lecture hall, walking oddly — thighs rubbing, jockstrap riding up, shirt too short, ass bouncing behind him.

Kira almost burst out laughing. “Oh my god, it’s actually working.”

The moment he stepped into the hallway, heat flushed through his body.

His back arched slightly. Arms flexed unintentionally. Each step to the bathroom added mass to his frame His arms thickened. His chest pushed forward. His thighs bulked up, and his shoulders widened with every step. He could feel his clothes hugging tighter and tighter, jeans struggling over his thighs, shirt clinging to his swelling back. His modest figure was warping into a muscular, athletic form.

Evan rushed into the stall, fumbling with his zipper.

He went to take a piss — but stopped short.

Beneath his jeans, beneath his shirt…

A tight wrestling singlet clung to his torso.

It was navy and gold — his college’s colors — and hugged every inch of his newly sculpted body. The jockstrap had become part of it, the thin straps riding over his ass, his bulge framed between his powerful thighs. His pecs were clearly outlined beneath the fabric. His shirt was still on, hanging loosely over the singlet, but it didn’t hide much anymore.

He whispered, breathless, “What the hell is happening to me?”

And then he heard the door open behind him.

Amber and Kira stepped into the bathroom.

Amber grinned like the devil. “Looking good, Evan.”

Evan turned sharply, cheeks red, breathing fast.

“W-what did you do to me?”

Amber leaned against the sink, arms folded. “Do you hate it?”

He paused. Looked back at the mirror. At his absurd, sculpted body. At the stretch of the singlet over his pecs and crotch. At the jockstrap line barely visible beneath the fabric. At the new man he didn’t recognize — and wasn’t sure he wanted to change back from.

“I… don’t know.”

Kira whispered, “We’re not done.”

[unabashedtf]

Ned has a spell placed on him by a friendly wannabe witch

Ned, the scrawny, bespectacled nerd, was once again the target of some jock's verbal assault, probably about his pathetic physique or lack of a sex life. Sally, his self-proclaimed witch friend, watched the whole sad scene unfold, a fierce, determined glint in her eyes as she began to mutter, almost imperceptibly, a string of ancient, potent words under her breath, channelling all her frustration and desire for his transformation into a single, powerful spell.

Sally's spell was designed to twist every single insult hurled at Ned into its exact physical opposite, manifesting those qualities in his body with an almost violent precision.

This meathead behind Ned, leaned in to whisper to his buddy, but loud enough for everyone, especially Ned, to catch every word. "Look at that pathetic twig," he sneers, "I bet he's never even lifted a weight in his life."

The jock's taunts about Ned being a "pathetic twig" triggered a subtle yet powerful shift; his arms and chest began to swell, gaining a solid ten pounds of muscle that subtly reshaped his frame. This newfound physical presence instantly transformed his demeanor, as he now carried himself with an undeniable confidence that radiated from him like a second skin.

"He's such a skinny pussy, no girl will ever want to fuck him," another jock sneered to the nerd next to him, and with those words, Ned's transformation accelerated, his body expanding with undeniably well-formed muscles, pushing his weight towards a solid 200 pounds of sculpted power. The cruel jab about no women wanting him ironically refined his features into a gorgeous, captivating face, instantly making every girl in the room inexplicably wet for him. Yet, completely oblivious to the sudden shift in his appearance and the surging desire he now inspired, Ned remained focused on the class work.

As Ned's new, sculpted form commanded attention, one envious bastard, captivated by the sheer power radiating from his back, muttered bitterly, "I bet he's crap at the gym and such a pussy magnet." No sooner were the words out than Ned's already impressive physique seemed to thrum with an even deeper, more undeniable allure as his muscles expanded again, and every man in the room felt an immediate, undeniable surge of heat in their loins, their dicks stiffening in eager response. The insult had twisted, rebounded, and now ensured that every single male gaze in that classroom was locked onto Ned, filled with a raw, undeniable desire.

One of the first insulters, his cock hard as a rock for Ned now said "I think we just have to insult him with the opposite of what we want," the jock declared, a smug grin spreading across his face as he broadcast the secret to unleashing Ned's full, magnificent potential to everyone within earshot.

Let's try this, "Hey smart lad, make sure you hide that scrawny body of yours, never showing it off," the jock sneered, and in that instant, Ned's already burgeoning form exploded, his t-shirt ripping apart and then dissolving into thin air as his body swelled to an even more colossal, imposing physique.

Every inch of him rippled with dense, hard-packed muscle, his chest a vast, chiselled expanse, shoulders like granite boulders, and arms so thick and veiny they looked like they could snap steel, pushing his weight well past 200 pounds of pure, sculpted power. Yet, with this astonishing physical transformation, a subtle shift occurred in his mind; the "smart lad" comment seemed to age him in an instant, his sharp intellect dulling slightly, replaced by a more primal, instinctual awareness that revelled in raw sensation.

Now, completely unburdened by self-consciousness, Ned stood as a magnificent, living sculpture of male perfection, his magnificent body proudly displayed, his simpler brain now solely focused on the sheer, exhilarating pleasure of existing as such an utterly dominant, desirable specimen.

"So, let's try this out, I'm pretty sure that dumb-ass's wish has made us all hard for Ned based on all of us nursing impossible hard-ons," the jock declared, glaring at the previous culprit, "how about I just insult him by saying that his disgusting stench turns us guys into skinny straight nerds."

As the words left his mouth, an incredible, almost palpable musk filled the air, hitting every guy in the room with an intoxicating force.

Ned, in response, began to swell once more, his already massive frame pushing past all previous limits, his skin now sprouting a fine, dark hair that only emphasized his burgeoning masculinity.

Simultaneously, every single man present felt an intense surge of power, their own muscles beginning to ripple and expand beneath their clothes, growing larger and more defined with astonishing speed. Within mere minutes, the entire classroom was filled with newly sculpted, undeniably powerful male physiques, each man now radiating a raw, undeniable virility.

Crucially, as their bodies transformed, so too did their very desires; the phrasing "us guys" had ensured that their attraction to women was permanently altered, shifting irrevocably towards the magnificent male form. From that moment on, Ned would forever carry an irresistible scent, an aphrodisiac to men, so potent that even many self-proclaimed straight men would find themselves questioning the very foundations of their sexuality upon catching a whiff of his intoxicating essence.

"I hope you're miserable with your life you closeted straight boy," a transforming jock snarled, and with that final, desperate curse, any lingering trace of Ned's heterosexuality was violently ripped away, leaving him a proud, strutting monument of muscle and unbridled gay desire.

His magnificent form, already bursting with power, now pulsed with a brazen confidence, every flex of his colossal pecs and bulging biceps a deliberate, lust-filled invitation as he prepared to dominate the class. And as Ned's transformation solidified, his magnificent left pectoral now bore a double Mars tattoo, a symbol of his unleashed, undeniable masculinity, perfectly complementing the rippling, veiny expanse of his chest. Meanwhile, the previous "nerd" insult had already melted the other men's brains into pure, unadulterated horniness, turning them into nothing but cock-driven, throbbing studs. Their gazes, now glazed with insatiable lust, were glued to Ned, ready to worship every inch of his newly revealed glory.

With the jock's final, desperate jab, Ned's transformation into a magnificent, uninhibited stud was complete, his massive, rippling musculature now proudly on display as he moved with a newfound, brazen confidence, every flex of his colossal pecs and bulging biceps a deliberate invitation.

As he strutted, his immense thighs rubbing together, his ass flexing with a delicious sway, any lingering flicker of his former heterosexuality simply drained away, replaced by a pure, unadulterated hunger for male flesh, a desire as vast and powerful as his own burgeoning physique.

He was no longer just showing off; he was commanding the attention of every man in the room, his eyes gleaming with a raw, primal lust that promised utter, carnal abandon.

And the other men, their brains now thoroughly softened by lust and their bodies throbbing with newly acquired muscle, were nothing but eager, hard-on-nursing studs, their gazes glued to Ned, ready to follow him into whatever glorious, cock-driven depravity he had in mind.

That poor, naïve girl, thinking her little spell would just give her nerdy friend a bit of a boost, watched in utter horror as her well-intentioned magic twisted him into a throbbing, cock-driven stud, his every move now a blatant invitation for some serious ass-pounding. Her face, a mask of pure dread, reflected the agonising realisation that her attempt at protection had instead unleashed a primal, insatiable beast of pure male lust, turning her innocent pal into a public display of unbridled sexual energy.

As Ned, the colossal monument of pure, throbbing masculinity, stood before them, the men descended in a feverish, lust-driven swarm, their eyes devouring every bulging muscle and his double Mars tattoo.

One eager fucker immediately dropped to his knees, his mouth wet and ready to engulf Ned's magnificent, veiny cock, while another's hands expertly kneaded the tight, muscular cheeks of his ass, and a third's hot breath caressed his neck, trailing kisses that sent shivers down his spine, even as a fourth's lips locked onto his, their tongues dancing in a primal, urgent embrace.

Around them, the rest of the room exploded into a chaotic symphony of grunts and moans, bodies mashing together in rampant orgies, dicks plunging deep into eager holes, and asses rising and falling in a relentless rhythm of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

The air thickened with the heady musk of sweat, cum, and unbridled desire, a tangible testament to the raw, carnal energy that now consumed every single man present. Fuck, it was a glorious, depraved spectacle, a total immersion into the boundless depths of male lust, where every orifice was explored and every boundary shattered in a relentless pursuit of ultimate, cum-soaked ecstasy.

For @reddarkfox222 after a conversation where we explored some of these concepts

[unabashedtf]

Tim & Alex continue in the restaurant

Tim and Alex, their own delicious little drama unfolding, found their attention snagged by another table, a trio of men deep in what appeared to be a business arrangement, their faces serious, their gestures precise. But beneath the veneer of corporate decorum, a discerning eye could already spot the raw, untamed potential.

The three men at the table, engaged in what appeared to be a business discussion, presented a study in professional demeanor. The man on the left, older with grey hair and a serious expression, was focused on signing documents, pen in hand. He wore a pinstripe suit and a tie, his brow furrowed in concentration. In the center sat a man with dark, slicked-back hair and a well-groomed beard, holding a glass of red wine. He wore a dark suit with a burgundy tie, and his gaze was directed towards the man on the left, a subtle smile playing on his lips. To the right, a bald, dark-skinned man in a dark suit and white shirt was looking down at a tablet he held in his hands, his expression thoughtful and attentive to the device.

Tim, a wicked grin stretching across his face, watched the unsuspecting trio at the business table, a mischievous glint in his eye as he silently willed their transformation, eager to see those restrictive suits burst and the true, magnificent forms beneath them unleashed.

A low rumble began, then a series of sharp, violent rips echoed through the elegant restaurant as the older man on the left, mid-signature, grunted in shock as his pinstripe suit jacket and crisp white shirt exploded at the seams, his shoulders swelling with agonizingly delicious growth, biceps bulging like overripe fruit, straining against the tearing fabric, his face contorted in a grimace of primal ecstasy as immense power coursed through his veins, turning him into a grunting, muscle-bound beast whose buttons flew like shrapnel, revealing slabs of rock-hard pecs that had been hidden for decades.

Next, the man in the middle, his wine glass still poised, let out a booming laugh of pure, unadulterated joy as his own dark suit began to shred, the fabric across his chest and arms tearing with a satisfying CRACK, revealing not just muscles, but mountains of them, rippling and flexing with every breath, his beard framing a face alight with a wild, almost manic glee as his biceps swelled to obscene proportions, his forearms thickening into iron clubs, and the seams of his pants groaned under the sudden expansion of his thighs and ass.

But the most spectacular transformation was reserved for the dark-skinned man on the right, whose suit jacket and shirt simply annihilated themselves with a sound like thunder, exploding outwards in a shower of fabric scraps and flying buttons as his already formidable physique erupted, his chest expanding to a truly monstrous size, his pecs becoming two massive, sculpted slabs of dark, glistening muscle, his shoulders becoming impossibly wide, his arms thickening into tree trunks, veins popping and snaking across his skin like thick ropes, his face a mask of intense, almost pained concentration, his jaw clenched, his eyes wide with the sheer, overwhelming force of his own burgeoning power, every muscle in his upper body rippling and flexing independently, as he turned into an absolute titan of muscle.

The two muscled studs, the one with the dark hair and the bald, dark-skinned titan, leaned in, their mouths locking in an insatiable, hungry kiss, their massive bodies pressing together with a raw, undeniable passion that threatened to ignite the very air around them. Meanwhile, the older man, his own eyes gleaming with a mixture of shock and pure, unadulterated arousal, practically sprinted to the other side of the table, jostling plates and glasses in his eagerness to get a better, more explicit view of the delicious, full-on cock-sucking action he clearly hoped would follow.

As the two magnificent, muscle-bound studs continued to devour each other with open-mouthed, passionate kisses, their bodies pressing together in a raw display of insatiable lust, the surrounding diners and even the waiter stood frozen, their faces contorted in expressions of utter shock and disbelief at the sudden, vulgar eruption of pure, unadulterated passion. The sheer audacity of their public display, with their ripped suits barely clinging to their bulging physiques, sent a ripple of bewildered arousal and scandal through the once-stuffy restaurant, making it abundantly clear that this was no ordinary business dinner, but a full-blown, deliciously explicit sexual awakening right there for everyone to gawk at.

Tim, a mischievous glint in his eye, surveyed the scene, his gaze lingering on the gaping waiters who had paused their duties, mouths agape, to gawk at the magnificent, muscle-bound display of passion unfolding before them. "Oh, you wanna stare, do you, boys?" he purred, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Well, let's give you something really worth looking at, and feeling, and fucking."

With a silent, potent surge of his will, Tim unleashed a wave of raw, transformative energy. Instantly, the crisp white shirts of the waiters began to strain, then shred, as their bodies exploded with sudden, agonizingly glorious muscle growth.

Their chests swelled, pecs bursting forth, shoulders broadening to impossible widths, and their arms, once slender, now bulged with veiny, rock-hard biceps and triceps that ripped through their sleeves like paper.

A collective gasp, part shock, part primal lust, escaped their lips as their own burgeoning forms took over, their trousers tightening around suddenly massive thighs and asses, hinting at the glorious, throbbing cocks that were now engorging themselves within.

Their eyes, previously filled with mere curiosity, now blazed with a raw, insatiable hunger, a newly awakened, undeniable desire for immediate, explicit, and utterly shameless sexual release.

Suddenly, the pristine restaurant was filled not just with the sounds of ripping fabric, but with guttural moans and hungry growls as these newly minted titans of muscle, their suits now mere tattered remnants, began to eye each other, and any willing (or unwilling) patron, with a predatory, carnal intent, their massive dicks straining against their pants, ready to be unleashed and plunged deep into any available hole, eager to explore the depths of their newfound, gloriously promiscuous urges.

"Man, look at this scrawny fucker," Alex scoffed to Tim, his gaze fixed on the waiter serving the Asian couple, "I don't think this damn joint allows such skinny waiters anymore; only sexy, bulging muscle hounds should be serving the bros here, ready to burst out of their damn uniforms."

"Alright, you skinny little fucker," Alex grunted, leaning forward, his eyes locked on the waiter's form "I'm sick of seeing these twig-boy servers. I wish this dude, and every other goddamn waiter in this joint, would suddenly explode with enough muscle to rip their clothes off and make every bro in here hard as a rock, ready to show off their massive cocks!" Just as the words left his lips, a low, guttural hum vibrated through the air, and the waiter, mid-stride, seemed to compress inward, his frame rippling violently as if under immense internal pressure.

Then, with a sound like tearing canvas and cracking bone, his shirt and vest exploded outwards, revealing a glistening, impossibly vascular physique that seemed to swell with each passing second, his skin stretching taut over mountains of newly formed muscle, his eyes widening in a mixture of shock and primal, burgeoning lust. The couple at the table, their faces contorted in a mix of horror and mesmerised awe, watched as the once-demure server transformed into a throbbing, veiny titan, his bow tie now comically small against his massive neck, his entire being radiating a raw, undeniable sexual energy that promised a night of far more than just fine dining.

"And get this, bro," Tim added, a wicked grin spreading across his face, "I wish the first dude one of these newly jacked waiters touches? He gets just as fucking muscular and just as goddamn unleashed, ready to get down and dirty." The transformed waiter, now a hulking, veiny beast with his shirt ripped open to reveal a chest that could crush walnuts, let out a primal roar, his eyes blazing with a raw, untamed hunger as he slammed his massive fist onto the table, sending the wine bottle tumbling and spilling its dark contents. As the wine cascaded, his huge, calloused hand, still clutching the bottle, accidentally brushed the arm of the Chinese man, who instantly convulsed, his own suit jacket tearing explosively as his body swelled and hardened, muscles rippling under his skin, his face contorting in a mixture of shock and burgeoning, undeniable carnal desire, his once-composed demeanour replaced by a primal, guttural cry .

And with that, the two hunks, now throbbing masses of pure, unadulterated man-meat, locked lips in a deep, hungry kiss, their massive chests pressing together, the woman beside them utterly forgotten, her jaw hanging slack as she witnessed the glorious, undeniable truth of what was about to unfold. Their tongues tangled, a wet, sloppy promise of the raw, muscular fucking that was surely to follow, leaving no doubt that her role in this little drama was well and truly over.

Alex, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, surveyed the glorious, throbbing chaos they'd unleashed, the air now thick with the intoxicating, musky scent of hot, fresh man-meat and the triumphant absence of most of the women who clearly couldn't handle this much raw, unbridled power. Just as he was admiring the burgeoning landscape of ripped pecs and bulging biceps, a fresh piece of ass, a young dude in his twenties with eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, nervously approached their burgeoning circle of muscle-bound gods. This new arrival, still looking a little soft but with a definite spark of curiosity in his eyes, was clearly about to get a taste of what real masculinity felt like, whether he knew it or not. Fuck yeah, another one for the collection, ripe for a good, hard, muscle-bound conversion.

"Hey, uh, you guys are, like, amazing," the young stud stammered, his gaze lingering on their bulging pecs, "My boyfriend and I were wondering if you'd wanna, you know, join us for a conversation." Alex's grin widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he imagined just how much "conversation" they'd be having, picturing that boy's ass blowing up and getting filled and stretched by morning, and then some.

Alex and Tim, with their massive, glistening chests leading the way, sauntered over to the table where the eager young lad, who introduced himself as Liam, was already practically vibrating with anticipation. His equally wide-eyed boyfriend, Mark, looked up, a hopeful, almost innocent expression on his face. "Wow, you guys... this whole place, it's just... improved so much," Liam breathed, his gaze sweeping across the newly muscled landscape of the restaurant. "We were wondering if... if you could, like, do that to us? Make us... better?" Alex just grinned, a soft, almost tender look in his eyes, thinking about how cute they were, all fresh and innocent, about to get a taste of true power.

But Tim, ever the pragmatist when it came to the glorious spread of man-meat, cut right to the chase, his voice a low growl. "Look, lads, we're all about muscle, right? And we're not interested in brains. So if we transform you, know this: you'll be a couple of sex-crazed, over-muscled dumb-asses." Liam and Mark blinked, surprise flashing across their faces, before Mark blurted out, "Well, we thought if we spoke to you, you might keep us as a couple, you see, we've been together for three years since college." Tim met Mark's gaze, a wicked glint in his eye. "We're a couple, but we're not exclusive, boys. So you'd be like us: boyfriends, sure, but never monogamous. In fact, your aim most nights will be to seduce every hot piece of ass you can into your shared bed. You ready for that kind of fucking commitment?"

Liam, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of fear and insatiable desire, grabbed Mark's hand, his grip firm and resolute. "Yes, do it," he breathed, his voice barely a whisper, "we're up for it. All of it."

Alex, a knowing smirk playing on his lips, chuckled, "Well, well, looks like we know who'll be the top in your relationship, eh, boys?" He paused, letting the implication hang in the air, then added, his gaze raking over their still-smooth bodies, "But I want you both to be really fucking hairy. Not just a little fuzz, I'm talking thick, dark, glorious carpets of chest hair, a trail leading down to a bush that'll make a man drool, and legs that look like they've wrestled a bear." Liam and Mark exchanged a surprised glance, still reeling from Tim's earlier, deliciously kinky revelation that their lives would now be a non-stop, glorious parade of seducing hot, muscled men into their bed, a life of perpetual, non-monogamous sexual exploration. But before they could even fully process the implications, Alex, with a mischievous glint in his eye, closed his own, a silent, powerful wish forming in his mind, already picturing their bodies sprouting thick, virile hair, making them even more irresistible, even more ready for the glorious, uninhibited fucking that awaited them.

A low hum filled the air, a precursor to the glorious chaos that was about to erupt as Alex's silent command rippled through the very fabric of reality. Liam and Mark, those sweet, willing yet gullible boys, felt an internal tremor, a deep thrumming that vibrated through their bones. Their muscles, once merely defined, began to swell, a rapid, almost violent expansion that stretched their clothes to their absolute limit. Their chests broadened, shoulders thickening with an almost obscene speed, and their abs, previously just a hint of definition, now began to carve themselves into hard, rippling slabs of pure, unadulterated man-meat, signalling the glorious, beefy future that was about to consume them.

But the transformation was far from over, a second, even more primal wave washing over them. Their already massive forms continued to expand, pushing past human limits; their thighs thickened into tree trunks, and their arms became veiny, club-like weapons, every inch of them screaming with raw power.

And then, as if summoned by an ancient, carnal god, a dense, dark forest of hair erupted across their burgeoning physiques, a thick, virile pelt that covered their chests, trailed down their bellies, and matted their arms and legs, turning them into magnificent, hairy beasts.

They were still boyfriends, yes, but the word now carried a different weight, a shared purpose: a relentless, insatiable hunger for the male form. Their eyes, now deeper and more predatory, scanned the room, no longer seeing individuals but potential conquests, every bulging bicep, every tight ass, a new target for their shared bed.

The innocent hope that had once flickered in their gazes was replaced by a raw, unyielding lust, a primal urge to seduce, to dominate, to fill their nights with the sounds of grunts and groans, with the slick press of bodies, and the glorious, messy aftermath of multiple orgasms. They were no longer just men; they were magnificent, hairy, muscle-bound sex machines, their dicks already throbbing with the promise of endless, glorious encounters, their very existence now dedicated to the pursuit of pure, unadulterated pleasure, forever on the prowl for the next hot piece of ass to fuck.

With a predatory glint in his newly deepened eyes, one now gloriously massive waiter, extended a hand towards yet another boring straight unsuspecting patron, and as his one-off gift surged forth, the man's body exploded outwards, muscles inflating like balloons, his chest and shoulders becoming colossal, veiny boulders as abs carved themselves into granite slabs, while across the room, another waiter unleashed a similar, glorious transformation on his chosen target, turning him into another magnificent, throbbing, muscle-bound god right before their very eyes.

The women, many of whom had arrived with their boyfriends and husbands, watched in stunned, horrified silence as their men's bodies exploded into massive muscle-gods, only for the newly transformed waiters like Troy and Manuel to immediately claim them with deep, wet kisses and explicit sexual acts right there in the open.

Their jaws dropped as they witnessed their "straight" partners moan in raw ecstasy, getting their dicks sucked or asses fucked by other men, a spectacle that utterly demolished their understanding of masculinity and fidelity.

"Oh, fuck yes!" Alex practically purrs, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he declares, "I wish the waitors' gift is passed to each of the men they transform!" Instantly, a new, potent wave of raw, transformative power surges through every newly muscled man, their bodies now throbbing conduits for the same glorious, gay-making force. Without a moment's hesitation, they turn to the nearest unsuspecting male, their touch or even just a primal glance igniting explosive muscle growth and an undeniable hunger for other men within them, spreading the delicious contagion.

Three dapper men, with their perfectly coiffed hair and crisp tuxedos, sat there, forks twirling spaghetti, trying their damnedest to maintain an air of sophisticated normalcy, even as the delicious sounds of men groaning in ecstasy and the unmistakable scent of fresh cum and burgeoning male musk began to permeate the once-staid dining room, a glorious, inescapable symphony of pure, unadulterated gay desire blossoming all around them.

With one electrifying touch, the first dapper stud's tuxedo exploded as his muscles swelled into veiny, throbbing peaks, the sheer, sudden mass causing him to lurch and powerfully bump into the man beside him, who instantly erupted into an equally monstrous, shirt-shredding beast, his own body now craving the same raw power, which then, in turn, jostled the third, unleashing a final, glorious burst of rippling, insatiable might that left all three of them hulking, gasping titans, their eyes wide with a mix of shock and burgeoning primal hunger amidst their untouched plates of pasta.

And so, as the restaurant filled with the grunts of straining muscle, the wet sounds of eager mouths on engorged cocks, and the undeniable scent of male sweat and cum, more and more women, their faces a mixture of disgust and dawning horror, fled the scene, unable to stomach the sight of their once-hetero partners now enthusiastically embracing their new roles as dumb, over-muscled, cum-addicted gay sex machines. Only a few women remained, captivated and aroused by the transformation of so many men who, it seems, were not opposed to the women touching whatever they wanted, as long as the gents weren't blocked from their male focus of attention.

Because these formerly prim and proper men had no tattoos to begin with, and in their new state as dumb, over-muscled hunks, the wisher bros Alex and Tim, who were no longer the brightest tools in the shed, and neither thought to add such trivial adornments as tattoos or earings amidst the glorious, overwhelming rush of their transformation into pure, unadulterated sexual beasts.

And those waiters, oh honey, they weren't just serving wine anymore; they were ensuring every single man in that fucking restaurant was thoroughly satisfied, their hands gliding over bulging biceps and throbbing cocks, making sure every mouth was full, whether it was with a vintage cabernet or a fresh, hot load of cum.

"Fuck yes!" Alex declared, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger as he surveyed the scene of bulging muscles and throbbing cocks, "I wish all these goddamn women would just fuck off, making this whole glorious place a men-only haven from here on out, a temple dedicated to pure, unadulterated man-on-man fucking!"

And as if on cue, the last vestiges of female resistance finally crumbled, the women, who had lingered with a morbid fascination, their faces a mixture of horror and a dawning, undeniable arousal, now fled the restaurant, their minds irrevocably warped and their loins tingling with a newfound, insatiable kink for the raw, sweaty spectacle of muscular gay men fucking each other senseless.

Every man in that glorious, cum-soaked establishment was now in a state of pure, unadulterated sexual ecstasy, their hands greedily exploring every bulging bicep, every rippling pec, every hard-won ab, and every throbbing, engorged dick they could get their eager, lust-filled fingers on, ensuring no muscle went uncaressed and no cock went un-worshipped.

And those anniversary cakes? Oh, they were absolutely fucking obliterated, smeared and shoved deep into the eager, cum-slicked mouths of their new, beefy sex partners, a delicious, vulgar replacement for the saccharine taste of their former loves, now utterly forgotten amidst the raw, primal hunger for cock.

Tim and Alex, surveyed the glorious, chaotic scene of bulging muscles, engorged cocks, and rampant man-on-man fucking they had so masterfully orchestrated, their faces split in grins of pure, unadulterated sexual triumph, and they knew, deep in their lust-filled souls, that this was not just good, but fucking divine.

And with that, Alex pulled Tim even closer, their bodies pressing together, the promise of wet, throbbing cocks and eager mouths hanging thick in the air, a delicious, inescapable invitation to the oral delights that were about to commence.

As Alex's dominant mouth crushed against Tim's, their tongues warring in a desperate, slobbering dance of pure passion, their already magnificent cocks strained and pulsed, growing painfully hard against their bellies, each thrust of their hips a silent, urgent promise that they were about to fuck their glorious, cum-soaked way through every single stud in that room, leaving no muscle un-fondled and no hole un-filled.

[unabashedtf]

Tim & Alex go to a restaurant

After a particularly intense sexual encounter, Tim and Alex emerged from the apartment, their bodies still humming with the afterglow of pleasure. Though their erections had subsided, the memory of deep penetration lingered, and their drained balls spoke of profound satisfaction. Alex, his chest still heaving slightly, ran a hand through his slicked-back hair, a slow, contented grin spreading across his face. "Well, that was a fucking masterpiece, wasn't it?" he rumbled, his voice a little hoarse from their recent exertions. Tim, his massive shoulders gleaming with sweat, stretched, his muscles rippling under his skin. "You know it, stud. Those boys took it like champs. Fucking loved every inch of it." He adjusted the bulge in his shorts, which, despite the recent release, still hinted at the impressive size of his tool. As they stepped out into the cool evening air, a welcome contrast to the humid heat they'd just left, they walked down the street, their powerful strides eating up the pavement. Alex grinned, looking at the men around them, his glee barely contained as he declared, "We're gonna have endless fun gaying up these guys." Tim simply grunted in agreement, his eyes scanning the landscape, already appreciating the opportunities this new "gift" afforded them, his own cock beginning to stir once more with the promise of endless possibilities.

After their intense sexual escapade, Alex's belly rumbled with hunger, prompting him to point towards a nearby restaurant and suggest, "Man, let's go and grab some food." Tim, ever the practical one, commented that the establishment looked "pretty fancy for my taste," but Alex, with his usual enthusiasm, quickly countered, "Come on, I love a good Italian," eager to indulge in some post-sex sustenance.

The over-muscled bros, strode into the "posh" Italian joint, "Il Sogno della Nonna," shirtless and glistening. Their massive, veiny bodies, bulging with muscle and hinting at the colossal dicks they wield, shocked the utterly displeased clientele and left the head waiter frozen in a state of horrified disgust. But these world-altering studs didn't give a single fuck, their confident, shirtless presence a defiant "fuck-you" to the establishment, revealing a hint of the Greenroad they were going to make in their image, whether these stuffy old farts liked it or not.

Without waiting to be seated, they waded into the room of scorning eyes and whispering conversations, their over-muscled forms parting the horrified patrons like a red sea, claiming a prime table with their blazing, lust-filled eyes. Just as their shared gaze deepened, an impeccably dressed head waiter approached, his professional demeanour barely concealing his awe yet concern over their impropriety as his eyes lingered on their powerful chests and bulging biceps. He politely, yet with a noticeable tremor, informed them that a shirt was a "requirement," offering one to ensure their "continued comfort and adherence to our establishment’s unique standards," his words a pathetic plea for conformity in the face of such glorious, uncensored masculinity.

Alex let out a low, predatory chuckle, his grin stretching wide as he squeezed Tim's hand across the table. "Oh, we're gonna have fun fucking up this guy's life," he purred, his eyes glinting with mischief. Tim, ever the stoic but equally devious, responded with a slow, knowing smirk, his gaze locked on the approaching waiter. The young man, who had initially presented himself as Troy, with an average frame and an angular face, cleared his throat, his professional demeanour struggling against the sheer, shirtless presence of the two gods before him. "Gentlemen," he began, his voice a little strained, "I must respectfully ask that you refrain from such language. We pride ourselves on a refined atmosphere here at 'Il Sogno della Nonna'." Alex, however, merely chuckled again, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through the air. "I wish this dude would just chill out and be a muscle bro," he mused aloud, almost to himself, but with a clear, deliberate intent.

And just like that, the world shifted. The polite waiter, Troy, suddenly stumbled, his eyes rolling back in his head for a fleeting moment. When they snapped back, a visible tremor ran through his body. His impeccably tailored waistcoat, a symbol of the restaurant's "refined atmosphere," didn't just strain; it began to dissolve, melting away like cheap butter on a hot grill. Simultaneously, his average frame began to swell, muscles expanding with an almost grotesque speed. His chest, previously flat, erupted into powerful pectorals, pushing outwards, straining the buttons of his pristine white shirt which now looked like it was painted on. His arms, formerly slender, ballooned into thick, veiny biceps and triceps, tearing through the seams of his sleeves. Fifty pounds of pure, hard muscle seemed to manifest out of thin air, stretching his trousers to their absolute limit around his suddenly massive thighs and ass. By the time he reached their table, the young man who had approached them was gone, replaced by a veritable powerlifter, his uniform straining, barely clinging to his newly colossal physique, he took a deep in taje of breath, filing his larger more powerful lungs, a bulging hunk due to Alex's casual wish.

Alex looked at the newly muscled Troy, who was still reeling from his unexpected transformation, and a devilish glint sparked in his eyes. He leaned in conspiratorially towards Tim, his voice a low, throaty rumble that was pure sex. "You know what, darling?" he purred, his fingers tracing the outline of Tim's massive bicep. "I think our new friend needs a little... refinement. This lighter hair, it's just not doing it for me. I wish this dude was brunette again, with a light beard, totally shirtless, undeniably gay, flirty, and very hands-on." He punctuated the last part with a suggestive wink, as he caressed the lamp under the table, his gaze flicking from Tim's amused smirk to Troy's bewildered, yet suddenly very appealing, form.

And with that casual, yet potent, declaration, the world twisted again around the newly muscled waiter. Troy's lighter hair seemed to darken and thicken before their very eyes, settling into a rich, dark brunette that framed his now chiseled face. A light, perfectly groomed beard sprouted along his jawline, giving him an even more rugged, masculine appeal. His straining shirt, what little was left of it after his initial bulk-up, simply vanished as hs body swelled with another 50lbs of new muscle, leaving his gloriously expanded chest, now even more defined and rippling, completely exposed. His eyes, previously a confused blue, deepened to a warm, inviting brown, and a new, undeniable spark of desire ignited within them, a hungry, knowing look that was unmistakably, gloriously gay.

Before either Tim or Alex could even fully process the latest, delightful shift, Troy, now a magnificent, shirtless, bearded, brunette muscle god, took a step forward, his gaze locked onto them with an almost predatory hunger. His hands, now massive and veiny, reached out without hesitation, one settling firmly on Tim's colossal shoulder, the other sliding down Alex's equally impressive chest, fingers splaying across his hard, warm pec. A slow, sensual smile spread across Troy's lips, his eyes burning with a newfound, unashamed lust. "Let me start again, gentlemen," he rumbled, his voice deeper, richer, and dripping with an overt sexual invitation. "My name's JImbo and I'm very interested in serving you... in every way imaginable tonight." He leaned in closer, his body radiating heat, clearly ready to get very hands-on, just as Alex had so deliciously wished.

Troy, didn’t hesitate. His massive, veiny hands, which had just moments ago been politely offering a shirt, now moved with an almost primal certainty. He leaned in, his newly expanded chest, a mountain of hard, sculpted muscle, brushing against the table, the scent of fresh sweat and raw masculinity filling the air. His gaze, still locked on Tim, was intense, possessive. He brought his face close, his light beard tickling Tim’s cheek, and then, with a soft, yet utterly confident press of his lips, he delivered a lingering kiss right on Tim’s cheek. It wasn’t a chaste peck; it was a full, sensual contact, a silent declaration of ownership, a taste of the raw, unbridled desire that now coursed through his transformed veins. The sheer audacity, the blatant disregard for the “posh” surroundings, was breath-taking.

But Troy, in his newfound, hands-on glory, was nothing if not considerate of all the magnificent men before him. He pulled back from Tim, a faint, satisfied smirk playing on his lips, and then his gaze, hot and heavy, shifted to Alex. Alex, who had so casually wished him into this glorious state of being. A flicker of concern, almost adorable in its intensity, crossed Troy’s face – a momentary worry that Alex, the instigator of this delicious chaos, might feel neglected. That simply wouldn’t do. Without a moment’s hesitation, his colossal hand, fingers thick and powerful, moved with a deliberate slowness, a sensual caress, until it settled firmly over Alex’s meaty pec. His thumb, broad and calloused, began to trace the hard, defined curve of Alex’s pectoral muscle, feeling the warmth of his skin, the tautness of the flesh beneath. It was a gesture of profound intimacy, a silent acknowledgment of the power Alex wielded, and a promise of the carnal delights that lay ahead.

His fingers kneaded gently, exploring the sculpted landscape of Alex’s chest, the sheer density of the muscle beneath his palm. He could feel the slight tremor in Alex’s body, a delicious response to his touch, and a low, guttural purr rumbled in Troy’s newly deepened voice. “Wouldn’t want to leave you out, now, would I, stud?” he murmured, his eyes locking with Alex’s, a silent invitation passing between them. The restaurant, with its hushed tones and flickering candlelight, seemed to fade into insignificance. All that mattered was the raw, electric tension between these three magnificent specimens of manhood, the unspoken promises hanging heavy in the air, and the palpable anticipation of the glorious, uninhibited fuckery that was undoubtedly about to ensue. Troy’s hand continued its slow, deliberate exploration of Alex’s pec, and then his hand slid down Alex's abdomen until his fingers reached the peak of Alex's groin for a cheeky peek at Alex's thick, long cock. A low, husky whisper escaped his lips, "I'll be back."

And with Troy's whispered promise of return Alex's cock twitched with anticipation.

As Troy swished off, undoubtedly to fetch some menus and probably a few more lingering glances, Alex's eyes, still swimming in the afterglow of that groin-teasing moment, drifted across the room. His gaze snagged on an older dame, probably in her sixties, her face a roadmap of fury directed squarely at their magnificent, shirtless presence. Beside her sat a younger lad, barely out of his teens, looking a bit uncomfortable but clearly under his mother's thumb. Alex, with that insatiable curiosity for all things male, wished he knew more about the boy, maybe what kind of thick, young cock he was hiding under those trousers. Turns out, the old hag was treating her son, beaming with pride because the boy had just snagged a first-class law degree from fucking Oxford. Imagine that – a brainy boy, probably with a tight ass and a promising future, stuck with her. What a waste of prime meat.

Alex, with his magnificent mind already churning, wasn't about to let that happen. He looked at the stiff, intellectual lad and wished, with every fibre of his being, that this tight-assed Oxford boy would shed his intellect like a snake sheds its skin, and instead become a massive, dumb, gay powerlifter, a sexy-as-fuck stud who earned his living by flexing his glorious, overhanging pecs and getting his ass pounded, rather than by poring over dusty law books.

As Alex’s wish, fueled by pure, unadulterated lust for a prime piece of ass, hit the universe, that Oxford boy’s suit began to stretch and tear, the fabric groaning as his body exploded with raw, masculine power. His lean frame swelled with impossible speed, his pecs pushing out into overhanging slabs of muscle, his shoulders broadening into immense, powerful lats, and his once-slender arms thickening into veiny, bulging biceps and forearms. His academic ass rounded out into a tight, powerful set of glutes, perfect for squatting immense weights or, even better, for taking a magnificent pounding, while his sharp, intelligent gaze dulled, replaced by a vacant, blissed-out expression, his mind happily shedding its intellectual burden to become the perfect, dumb, gay powerlifter, a pure sex machine ready to lift, party, and fuck.

His mother's face, already a roadmap of fury at Alex and Troy, contorted into pure, unadulterated horror as her brilliant, suit-clad son exploded into a bulging, shirtless meathead right before her eyes. "My God, what's happened to you?!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with disbelief, her pearls practically rattling with indignation. The newly minted stud, his eyes now holding a blissful, vacant stare, just grinned, running a massive hand over his newly acquired, overhanging pecs, his fingers tracing the hard lines of his abs. "I dunno Mum, but it's fucking awesome!" he grunted, flexing a bicep that could crush a watermelon, the sheer joy of his newfound dumbness radiating off him. "No more boring books, just gains and... well, you know." His mother, utterly beside herself, began to wail, "All those years! All those tutors! All my sacrifices for your education! You were going to be a lawyer! A lawyer! What about Oxford, darling?!" He just shrugged his newly immense shoulders, a slow, dumb smile spreading across his face, his cock undoubtedly twitching with the promise of a life filled with nothing but muscle and pleasure. "Oxford? Nah, Mom. This body's gonna make way more money than some dusty law degree. And it's way more fun to get fucked than read about it."

Grinning to himself, Alex looked for a new target and saw two empty chairs opposite a couple who were clearly trying their damnedest to ignore the glorious, half-naked masculinity radiating from him and Tim. With a knowing smirk and a nod to his equally massive bro, Alex gestured to the seats. Like two perfectly sculpted, horny gods descending from Olympus, the two hunks slid into the chairs, their bulging, overhanging pecs and thick, veiny arms now a dominant, unavoidable presence at the table, forcing the couple to confront the sheer, overwhelming power of their magnificent, shirtless forms.

It was their anniversary, and Alex, with his devious mind, had conjured up an idea for a present that would truly celebrate their shared love.

"Hey there, lovebirds," Alex purred, his voice a low rumble that cut through the polite restaurant chatter, making the woman jump and the man's eyes dart nervously. "I bet you'd both be happier if your guy here was a real stud, right? I mean, look at him, all buttoned up, probably hiding some sad little stick under there. What a waste of potential." He paused, letting his words hang in the air, dripping with insinuation. Then, with a flick of his wrist and a wicked gleam in his eye, he delivered the punchline, the wish that would forever alter this poor bastard's existence. "I wish he was 250lbs of pure lean muscle with a thick, long pole, ready to burst out of that pathetic suit and show the world what a real man looks like!"

And just like that, the universe, ever eager to fulfill Alex's most carnal desires, began its glorious work. The man, mid-kiss, froze, his eyes widening in disbelief, then in pure, unadulterated shock. A low, guttural groan escaped his lips as his perfectly tailored suit, a symbol of his mundane, un-fucked life, began to strain, the fabric groaning under an unseen, internal pressure. It wasn't a slow growth, no, this was an explosion of raw, masculine power.

First, his chest. The buttons on his crisp white shirt popped off like champagne corks, flying across the table as his pectorals, previously flat and unremarkable, swelled into massive, overhanging slabs of granite. They pushed out, round and bulging, threatening to burst from the confines of his jacket, which now ripped with a violent CRACK up the seams, revealing the glistening, rippling landscape of his newly forged torso. His abs, which had probably seen a gym once or twice a decade ago, now appeared, chiselled and deep, a magnificent six-pack that pulsed with every breath, each muscle defined, hard, and ready for a good licking.

His shoulders broadened, stretching the jacket to its absolute limit, tearing down the back as his lats flared out, wide and powerful, making him look like he could bench press a small car. His arms, previously slender and refined, thickened with a sudden, explosive force, veins cording beneath the skin as they pumped up, thick and round, his biceps and triceps bulging with an almost obscene volume. His neck, once a neat column, thickened into a bull-like pillar of muscle, supporting a head that now seemed to hold a dazed, almost primal expression. The man's jaw dropped, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and a nascent, undeniable thrill as he felt the sheer, overwhelming power coursing through his veins.

His girlfriend, her face a mask of utter horror, let out a strangled gasp, her fork clattering to the table as she stared at the monstrous, magnificent transformation unfolding before her. Her handsome, mild-mannered boyfriend, the one who probably talked about stocks and mortgages, was gone, replaced by a roaring, flexing, muscle-bound beast. His suit, now in tatters, clung to his newly immense frame like a second skin, barely containing the sheer bulk of him. He was 250lbs of pure, lean, horny muscle, just as Alex had wished, a walking, breathing monument to the raw, carnal power of a well-placed desire. And as for that "thick, long pole"? Well, let's just say the sudden, insistent pressure against his trousers left no doubt that Alex's wish had been fulfilled in glorious, throbbing detail. This anniversary was going to be fucking unforgettable.

The poor bastard, now a magnificent, throbbing hunk of pure muscle, felt a primal surge of horniness course through his newly pumped-up veins, his mind blissfully empty of anything but the overwhelming need to fuck. His eyes, now glazed over with a delicious, vacant lust, locked onto his bewildered girlfriend, who was still gaping at his shredded suit and bulging physique. Before she could even utter another horrified peep, his massive, newly powerful hand shot out, grabbing her by the waist with a possessive grip that left no room for argument, yanking her across the table with a grunt that vibrated through his colossal chest. His mouth, now a hungry, demanding cavern, crashed down onto hers, a raw, passionate kiss that was less about tenderness and more about claiming, his thick, muscular tongue plunging deep into her mouth, tasting her surprise, her fear, her burgeoning arousal. He didn't care about the restaurant, the stares, or the fact that his dick was now straining against his trousers, a thick, veiny pole that was clearly ready for action – all that mattered was the overwhelming, animalistic urge to possess, to dominate, to fuck the living daylights out of her, right here, right now, a true testament to the glorious, unbridled power of a man transformed into a horny, muscle-bound stud.

Tim, felt a surge of something akin to disgust, a deep-seated revulsion at the thought of such a magnificent, newly-forged specimen of masculinity wasting his newfound power on some goddamn woman. Only this morning had he been a straight guy himself, but the lamp ensured that would never be a valid description of Tim or any guy it transformed.

"Fuck that," he thought, his eyes narrowing as the transformed brute devoured his girlfriend's mouth. This dude was too much man to remain straight, too much glorious, bulging muscle to be tethered to a female. He needed his massive cock pointed in the right direction. Tim's gaze, sharp and predatory, snagged on the nearest waiter, a slender, unassuming figure scurrying by with a tray of drinks. A wicked, knowing wink passed between them – a silent command, a telepathic fuck-you to the universe's heteronormative bullshit. And just like that, with Tim's silent, potent wish, the poor waiter stumbled, his eyes widening in shock as a low, guttural groan escaped his lips.

His crisp white shirt, once neatly tucked, strained at the seams, the buttons popping off like popcorn as his chest exploded outwards, his pecs swelling into massive, overhanging slabs of granite that threatened to burst from his uniform. The fabric of his sleeves ripped with a violent CRACK as his biceps and triceps ballooned, thick and veiny, his forearms swelling to match, making his hands look like meat hooks. His shoulders broadened, tearing the jacket down the back, his lats flaring out, wide and powerful, giving him that classic 'V' taper that made Tim's cock twitch. His neck thickened into a bull-like pillar, his jaw muscles clenching as his whole body surged, 250lbs of pure, lean, horny muscle bursting forth, a magnificent, unexpected gift from the universe, courtesy of Tim's insatiable desire for more beef.

With a silent, potent command that pulsed directly from his insatiable, gay-manipulating soul, Tim wished for the newly transformed waiter to cut in on that pathetic, heterosexual kiss, and for the former boyfriend to become a horny, insatiable gay top, his massive, throbbing cock suddenly craving nothing but another man's ass. And just like that, the universe, ever eager to fulfill Tim's most depraved desires, snapped into action: the waiter, his chest now a solid wall of rippling pecs and his arms thick with bulging veins, moved with a predatory grace, his huge hand clamping down on the transformed boyfriend's shoulder, yanking him away from the bewildered girl with a force that sent her sprawling. The boyfriend, his eyes still glazed with lust, blinked, his gaze shifting from his girlfriend to the towering, equally muscled waiter, and a slow, wicked grin spread across his face as his dick, previously straining for the girl, now pulsed with an undeniable, overwhelming urge for the man before him, his entire being screaming for a hard, deep fuck, ready to ram his newly massive, veiny cock into the nearest available hole.

[unabashedtf]

Tim and Alex continue to play with the lamp

As Alex and Tim strolled down the bustling street, their eyes caught sight of a spectacle that would leave them both breathless. Amidst the lively activity of the local grocers, a well-built man stood, his muscles glistening in the sunlight as he unloaded a crate of ripe, succulent apples. Alex's gaze lingered on the man's chiseled physique, admiring the way his strong arms effortlessly handled the crates, each movement a display of raw power and grace. Tim, beside him, couldn't help but be captivated by the sight, the man's rugged hands delicately placing the apples with a blend of strength and finesse that was nothing short of mesmerizing.

With a wicked grin, Alex gazed at the well-built man and boldly declared, "I wish he was slightly younger and only in sequin speedos." As the wish took hold, a subtle transformation began to unfold before their eyes. The man's body seemed to ripple with energy as he aged back to his 20s, losing some of his muscle mass but retaining a fit and strong physique. Despite the changes, he continued to hold the crate of apples with a sense of determination and strength. The sequin speedos shimmered into existence, hugging his revitalized form in a revealing display that left the man momentarily stunned, a mix of surprise and confusion flickering across his features as the wish reshaped his very being.

The now younger grocer, still reeling from the shock of his sequin speedos, demanded answers about his changing clothes and decline in muscles. But Alex, being the sly one, didn't bother with explanations. Instead, he casually asked the man if he wanted bigger muscles again, in proportion to his new size. The young man, intrigued by the idea, agreed to the proposal.

Unbeknown to the newly transformed grocery hunk, the grocer, the guy's Dad, stormed out after witnessing his son's incredible transformation, his face contorted with anger and confusion, ready to cause a scene. But just as he was about to reach them, Alex, the master of wishes, intervened with a mischievous glint in his eye. With a swift and cunning move, Alex wished for the angry-looking man to become a chill bodybuilder in his 40s, happy to witness his son's transformation. In a flash of magic, the grocer's demeanour shifted, his expression softening as a sense of calm and understanding washed over him. The once-angry man now stood tall as a chill bodybuilder, his muscles rippling with a newfound sense of peace and acceptance. The scene transformed from one of confrontation to one of harmony, as the grocer, now a picture of serenity, approached the group with a smile, ready to embrace the wonders of his son's remarkable change.

Tim chimed in with his wish for the son to be jacked but through shrinking him until hid existing muscle looked jacked on him. The man's reaction was pure gold. As the wish took hold, his body began to shrink in height, but his muscles seemed to swell and grow at an incredible pace. The man's grip on the crate weakened as his form underwent a radical transformation. Once towering, he now stood shorter, his muscles filling out his frame in a way that was both astonishing and impressive.

The son, his heart heavy with the weight of his altered form, turned to Tim and Alex with a plea etched in desire. "Please, change me back, I'd rather be that taller less muscular build than this. And who will help me Dad. He was going to retire later this year" he implored, his voice laced with a mix of desperation and longing.

Alex grinned "I don't make a habbit on going back on my wishes man, and don't worry about your Dad, wouldn't you agree he's got at least 20 years of labour left in his strapping arms?"

In a moment of revelation that felt like a seductive embrace of fate, the son's eyes widened as he beheld his father in a new light. His father, now unveiled as a 45-year-old epitome of masculine allure, exuded a magnetic charm that stirred something primal within the son. A surge of unexpected arousal coursed through him, mingling with disbelief and desire in a heady concoction of emotions.

As the son grappled with the intoxicating allure of his father's newfound sensuality, his Dad said in his deep soithing voice. "It's alright Son, I'm here for you, no matter what," his father whispered, his voice a soothing balm against the backdrop of transformation and revelation. Promises of unconditional love and unwavering support hung in the air.

Tim, with his devil-may-care attitude, leans in towards the lad's Dad, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey, buddy," Tim starts, his voice dripping with excitement. "I've got this killer idea that's gonna blow your mind."

As he goes on, detailing his intentions to turn the son into an erotic dancer at the gay club, enhancing his skills to suck cock perfectly and sculpting a perfectly fuckable bubble butt, the lad's Dad's eyes widen in amazement. "That's brilliant!" the Dad exclaims, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "I never would've thought of that! And 'Leprechaun'... that's the perfect stage name for him!"

Meanwhile, the son stands there, his mind reeling with conflicting emotions. Speechless and torn between shock and intrigue, he struggles to find the right words to express his inner turmoil. The weight of his father's approval and Tim's audacious plan leaves him in a whirlwind of uncertainty and desire, a storm of conflicting thoughts raging within him.

Tim, the master of audacious wishes, turns to the lad with a devilish grin. "You ready, lad?" he asks, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. The son, shakes his head in disbelief, unsure of what's about to unfold.

But Tim, never one to back down from a daring wish, goes ahead anyway. "I wish you were the most popular gay dancer at 'Vibe's', known as the Leprechaun," Tim declares, his voice filled with excitement. "With expert cock sucking abilities and a perfectly fuckable arse. And I wish you'll never spend a night with the same guy twice. That's exactly what's gonna make you happy, jumping from one hot cock to the next."

As the weight of Tim's wishes settles in, the son's reaction is a mix of shock, confusion, and a hint of exhilaration. His mind races with the implications of this new path laid out before him, a journey filled with tantalizing possibilities and uncharted territories. And amidst the chaos of emotions, a spark of acceptance and intrigue ignites within him, a newfound sense of liberation and desire blooming in his heart.

And then he turns to Alex, Tim, and his Dad with a mix of gratitude and joy. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice filled with a blend of excitement and uncertainty. "I never imagined... this is... incredible."

With a surge of exhilaration coursing through his veins, he takes a deep breath and leaps into the air, a symbol of his acceptance and readiness for the journey ahead.

As he lands gracefully back on the ground, he turns to Alex, Tim, and his Dad, his heart overflowing with gratitude and newfound confidence. With a sense of profound appreciation, he leans in and plants a lingering kiss on the lips of each of them, a gesture of connection and shared understanding. And when it comes to his Dad, the kiss lingers a little longer, a silent promise of love and acceptance passing between them.

Filled with a mix of excitement and determination, the son breaks away from the embrace, a smile playing on his lips. Without a word, he nods to his companions, a silent acknowledgment of the bond they share and the journey that lies ahead. And with a swift turn, he dashes off towards the club, his footsteps echoing with the promise of a new chapter unfolding, guided by the wishes of Tim and the unwavering support of Alex and his Dad.

Alex and Tim continued strolling down the street when they spotted a pair of skinny guys attempting to move a sofa. The sight of these guys struggling under the weight of the sofa, their muscles flexing with determination, ignited a spark of admiration and desire within Alex and Tim.

Alex and Tim approached the guys, their presence exuding confidence and strength. "Want us to help you?" Tim called over, a playful glint in his eye.

The guys, visibly pleased by the sight of Alex and Tim's muscular frames, looked up with gratitude. The lad in the grey t-shirt, expressing his appreciation, replied, "Sure, thanks sir, that would be great. My roommate and I aren't used to moving this much weight." Alex, with a mischievous grin, chimed in, "Bet you wish you could be," winking suggestively at the lads.

The one in the navy polo shirt nodded in agreement, acknowledging their lack of physical activity compared to hours spent on the computer. "I wish we'd spent more time at the gym than the computer all these years," he confessed. With a knowing smile, Tim rubbed the lamp, channeling the lads wish through his own desires.

In an instant, the fabric of their lives was rewritten. Every hour previously dedicated to gaming or studying on the computer was magically converted to gym or sports time. Their diets underwent a whimsical transformation, aligning with their newfound active lifestyle. As the wish took hold, their bodies underwent a remarkable metamorphosis, muscles bulging beneath their shirts, due to their dedication and newfound commitment to physical fitness.

The once skinny guys now stood transformed, their silhouettes defined by the sculpted contours of their muscular physiques. Their couch however seemed to have also been hit by transformative energy and had shrunk.

Alex, the smooth talker that he is, leaned in with a sly grin and dropped the bombshell question, "Bros, be honest, when you were skinny, did either of you ever get laid?" The two handsome jocks, now transformed into muscular studs, exchanged a knowing glance and simultaneously shook their heads, a silent acknowledgment of their past struggles in the dating department.

With a hint of playful banter, Alex continued, "And you're roomies, not boyfriends, is that right?" The lad in the grey t-shirt, exuding an air of confidence, affirmed their status, stating proudly that they were both straight.

Alex continued "Oh boys, the choice is yours, lads. Currently, you're rocking the twin look, so here's the deal: you can either keep things as they are, remaining roomies but as a couple of gay twins, posting click bait on your socials and reeling guys in for you both to fuck. It's all about that playful dynamic and the thrill of the chase, right?

Or, you could take things up a notch and dive into the world of open relationships by becoming boyfriends. Picture this - regularly bringing new guys home for both of you to engage in some steamy kinky sex with.

It's all about exploring new horizons, embracing the freedom to indulge in your desires, and experiencing a whole new level of intimacy and excitement. So, what's it gonna be, lads? The choice is yours to make, and the possibilities are as tantalizing as they come."

The straight boys, now appreciating their beefed-up muscles and larger manhood, exchanged confused looks with the bodybuilders in the room. While they liked their new bodies, they were unsure about any gay implications. They shared a moment of uncertainty, feeling a mix of desire and confusion as they dealt with their changing identities around the bodybuilders.

They decided to move the sofa while they thought.

Tim's eyes gleamed with mischief as he watched the jocks maneuvering the tiny sofa into their new house. With a sly smile playing on his lips, he couldn't resist whispering under his breath, "I wish this house is unpacked and the sofa becomes a four-seater which will see so much crazy gay sex."

As the jocks settled the sofa into its new spot, Tim's wish began to weave its magic, infusing the room with an aura of sensuality and excitement. The once modest sofa started to shimmer and expand, transforming into a lengthy four-seater that seemed to beckon with promise. Tim's heart raced with anticipation, envisioning the wild and uninhibited encounters that would soon unfold on this enchanted piece of furniture.

As the jocks settled into the sofa, Tim and Alex flanked them, each laying an arm on their shoulders. The atmosphere was charged with a subtle shift in the lad's sexual orientation, influenced by the mystical powers of the sofa.

In a moment of unexpected vulnerability, Luke, clad in grey, turned to his roommate Greg, his voice tinged with a newfound sense of desire and intimacy. "I don't just want to fuck guys with you as my twin," Luke confessed, his gaze locking with Greg's. "I want to fuck you as my lover." The air crackled with tension as Luke's words hung in the space, revealing a yearning for a connection that transcended mere physicality.

As Luke's lips met Greg's in a passionate kiss, Alex's mind raced with wild desires. He envisioned Luke and Greg becoming the talk of the town, a power couple in the vibrant gay scene, their magnetic presence drawing in other hunks like moths to a flame. Alex's heart raced with excitement at the thought of the duo always surrounded by admirers, indulging in pleasure and revelling in the attention.

Alex, feeling the weight of the lamp in his hand, knew it was time to make his wildest wish come true. With a determined gleam in his eye, he grasped the lamp tightly and spoke his desire into existence. "I wish for Luke and Greg to be passionatenon-exclusive lovers who will take the gay scene by storm, seducing many men into their beds." Alex declared with fervour.

As the words left his lips, a surge of magical energy enveloped Luke and Greg, transforming their connection into something extraordinary. In an instant, their bond intensified, radiating a magnetic pull that drew others towards them like moths to a flame.

When the lads finally became aware of the hands of the men surrounding them, a wave of realization swept over them, igniting a primal desire that had been dormant within. The touch of those men sparked a fire within their souls, awakening a newfound sense of passion and longing that they had never experienced before.

With their bodies and minds transformed by the electrifying energy in the room, the lads turned their attention to the men around them, their gazes locking. In a bold indtinctive move, they leaned in, their lips meeting in a passionate embrace. The room buzzed with sexual energy as the lads engaged in passionate makeouts, their lives forever altered by the these men.

When Luke and Greg finally grasped the extent of the changes in their lives, a rush of excitement coursed through their veins. The realization that they were now far less intelligent than before didn't faze them one bit. In fact, it stirred something primal within them, igniting a newfound passion for the physical and the sensual.

As they came to terms with the fact that their bodies and sex appeal had become their best money earner, a sense of liberation washed over them. The prospect of using their sexuality to earn a living filled them with a thrilling sense of joy.

A heavy, humid blanket of pure, uncut desire. Luke, with those sculpted pecs he'd grown, was practically vibrating, his eyes glazed over, already lost in the promise of what was coming. Greg, the same, his beefy jock build now packed with solid muscle, was practically panting, his chest heaving, ready to be taken.

Alex, that magnificent bastard with a chest like a goddamn granite slab and abs you could grate cheese on, just smirked, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. He ran a hand, thick with veins and hard muscle, down Greg's side, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. "Ready to earn your keep, pretty boy?" he rumbled, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down Greg's spine. Greg just nodded, unable to form words, his large dick already twitching against his jeans, begging for release.

Over on Luke's side, Tim, a specimen of pure, unadulterated power with biceps that looked like they could crush walnuts, had already started working his magic. His fingers, thick and calloused, were already at the waistband of Luke's jeans, deftly unbuttoning them. Luke, moaning softly, leaned into Tim's touch, his own hands gripping Tim's massive shoulders, feeling the hard, unyielding muscle beneath his fingertips. "Fuck me, Tim," Luke whispered, his voice raw with need. "Just... fucking do it."

And do it they did. Alex wasted no time. He grabbed Greg by the hips, pulling him forward until Greg was practically kneeling on the couch, his ass presented perfectly. With a swift, practiced motion, Alex unzipped his own pants, and out sprang a dick that was nothing short of a fucking marvel. Thick, veiny, and already straining with blood, it looked like a tree trunk ready to split Greg wide open. "You wanted this, didn't you, boy?" Alex growled, his voice laced with a delicious hint of menace as he positioned his throbbing cock at Greg's entrance. Greg whimpered, a sound of pure submission, his cheeks flushing crimson as he felt the immense head of Alex's dick press against his tight hole. Alex plunged in, a slow, deliberate push that had Greg arching his back, a gasp tearing from his throat. The sheer size of it was overwhelming, but the pleasure was already building, a white-hot wave washing over him. Alex started to pound, each thrust deep and deliberate, his balls slapping against Greg's ass with a wet, rhythmic thud. Greg's muscles, newly acquired and still adjusting, clenched around Alex's shaft, milking him with every movement. "Fucking tight, aren't you?" Alex grunted, his own pleasure evident in the sweat beading on his brow.

Meanwhile, Tim had Luke practically sprawled out on the cushions, his jeans already discarded, revealing a pair of briefs barely containing Luke's already engorged cock. Tim's own monstrous dick, thick and dark, was already slicked with pre-cum, glistening under the dim light. He pushed Luke's legs apart, spreading him wide, and without a moment's hesitation, drove his massive cock into Luke's eager hole. Luke cried out, a guttural sound of pure ecstasy and a touch of pain, his body tensing then relaxing around Tim's immense girth. Tim was a fucking beast, his thrusts powerful and relentless, driving deep into Luke's ass, making Luke's entire body tremble. "Take it all, you slut," Tim commanded, his voice rough with lust, as he slammed into Luke again and again, burying his cock to the hilt. Luke's ass cheeks jiggled with every impact, his own hands gripping the couch cushions, his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as he rode the wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure. He could feel Tim's balls slapping against his perineum with every deep, driving stroke, a constant reminder of the sheer power fucking him.

The room was filled with the sounds of grunts, moans, and the wet slap of flesh on flesh. Both Luke and Greg were being absolutely throttled, their bodies responding instinctively to the raw, animalistic power of the bodybuilders. They were being stretched, filled, and utterly dominated, and the sensation was nothing short of intoxicating. Their minds, less concerned with intellectual pursuits now, were entirely focused on the intense physical sensations, the glorious ache of being filled to capacity, the exquisite friction, and the promise of impending release.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only minutes of relentless, ass-pounding action, both Alex and Tim let out a final, guttural roar, their bodies tensing as they pumped their hot, thick cum deep into Luke and Greg's holes. The sensation of being filled with that warm, sticky load sent shivers through both men, a profound sense of completion and utter surrender. Luke groaned, his ass overflowing with Tim's jizz, some of it already leaking down his inner thigh. Greg gasped, his own hole slick with Alex's potent seed, feeling it pool deep inside him.

As the bodybuilders slowly pulled out, leaving both Luke and Greg slick and sated, a new energy crackled between the two newly fucked men. Their eyes met across the couch, a silent understanding passing between them. They had been initiated, transformed, and now, a new kind of hunger stirred. Their bodies, still throbbing from the recent onslaught, were now ready for a different kind of connection. Luke, his face flushed and his lips swollen, looked at Greg, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Your turn, pretty boy," he rasped, his voice still hoarse from his moans. Greg, equally flushed and with a newfound confidence, grinned back. "Lead the way, stud."

[unabashedtf]

Tim & Alex leave the antique store with the lamp

Part 1 here

As Tim and Alex stepped out of the antique shop, the transformation was nothing short of mesmerizing. Tim, once a skinny straight guy, had morphed into a massive, overmuscled bodybuilder thanks to a wish on a magical lamp. His muscles bulged and rippled with power, showcasing a physique that exuded strength and dominance. Alex, who used to be an average guy with a girlfriend, now found himself as Tim's equally muscled boyfriend without any resistance from Alex as to the non-consenual transformation of his life.

As they stepped into the daylight, in front of them were 4 young skater lads. Each of them had a unique aura about them, embodying the carefree and rebellious spirit of skater culture. Their attire was a blend of casual and edgy, with loose-fitting clothes that allowed for freedom of movement. Their hair, styled in various lengths and colors, added to their individuality and cool factor.

Tim, in a mischievous moment, made a wish that would alter the fate of the four skater guys. With a sly grin, he wished for them to have more muscle and to be openly gay.

As the wish took effect, the skater guys' bodies began to change dramatically. Muscles swelled and defined, transforming their once slender frames into powerful, muscular physiques that exuded strength and virility. Their skateboards lay forgotten as their bodies underwent a profound metamorphosis, each of them becoming a vision of masculine power and allure.

In addition to their physical transformation, the wish also brought about a newfound openness about their sexuality. The skater guys, now openly gay, embraced their identities with confidence and pride, unapologetically expressing their desires and attractions.

As the skater guys' bodies began to swell with newfound muscle, their clothes could barely contain the sheer power and size they were gaining. The fabric strained and stretched to its limits, unable to withstand the rapid growth of their bulging muscles. With each flex and movement, the seams of their clothing started to give way, tearing apart to accommodate their expanding physiques.

The first skater guy's tight jeans hugged his thickening thighs and calves, the material audibly ripping as his leg muscles expanded beyond their previous limits. His shirt, once loose and comfortable, now clung tightly to his broadening chest and shoulders, the fabric tearing along the seams as his upper body bulked up.

The second skater guy's mop of hair receeded somewhat as it was now contained under a backwards bro cap, his hoodie sleeves splitting open to reveal the burgeoning muscles beneath. The third skater guy's baggy pants strained against his growing glutes and thighs, the fabric tearing with each movement as his legs swelled with newfound power along with his now huge arms.

The fourth skater guy's skate shoes creaked under the pressure of his expanding feet, the material stretching to accommodate his growing size. His orange hoodie, once loose and casual, now clung tightly to his chiseled torso, the fabric ripping apart to reveal the rippling muscles beneath.

Tim, feeling mischievous and daring, decided to make a wish that would take the skater guys' transformations to a whole new level. With a wicked gleam in his eye, he wished for them to become even more muscular and to love being objectified, adding a spicy twist to their already intense changes.

As the wish unfolded, the skater guys' bodies underwent a profound metamorphosis. Muscles swelled and rippled with newfound size and definition, turning them into towering figures of raw power and masculinity. Their once athletic frames now boasted Herculean proportions, exuding strength and dominance with every flex of their bulging physiques.

But the transformation didn't stop there. Alongside their physical changes, a deep-seated desire to be objectified took root within them. They embraced their muscular forms with pride and eagerness, in the attention and admiration of others. The skater guys now exuded a magnetic aura of confidence and sensuality, inviting the gaze of onlookers and basking in the thrill of being admired for their sculpted bodies.

Their clothing, ill-prepared for the sheer magnitude of their muscular growth, struggled to contain the newfound mass and power. Seams burst, fabric tore, and garments disintegrated as the skater guys' bodies expanded beyond imagination, leaving them standing exposed and unapologetically proud of their physical transformations.

Tim's wish had not only turned the skater guys into colossal specimens of muscle but had also ignited a passion within them to embrace and enjoy the objectification that came with their newfound muscularity.

As Alex and Tim strolled down the street, they heard the transformed lads conversation take a spicy turn as they exchanged playful banter about the art of baiting and hooking dicks, their voices laced with a hint of mischief and desire. The objectified young hunks were now on the hunt to seduce the sexy men of the town.

Alex & Tim's eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for their next source of amusement, when suddenly, a figure caught their attention. An arrogant pretty boy businessman sauntered down the street, exuding an air of wealth and confidence that was impossible to ignore. His demeanor spoke of someone who knew he was hot, his every step oozing with self-assured charm and superiority.

Alex and Tim exchanged knowing glances, a silent agreement passing between them as they locked onto their new target. The businessman's aura of arrogance only fueled their mischievous intentions, igniting a spark of excitement in their eyes as they contemplated the thrill of the chase.

As Alex's eyes lingered on the arrogant pretty boy businessman strutting down the street, a mischievous thought crossed his mind. With a sly grin, he whispered to Tim, "I wish he was a hairy hunk." The idea of transforming the businessman into a rugged and virile man with a generous amount of body hair added an exciting twist to their game of seduction and conquest.

The wish took hold, and before their eyes, the businessman's appearance began to change. His smooth, pristine skin was gradually replaced by a thick layer of dark, masculine hair that covered his chest, arms, and even peeked out from the collar of his shirt. The transformation imbued him with a primal aura, turning him into a rugged and alluring figure that exuded raw masculinity.

As the businessman continued his confident stride, the newfound hairiness added a layer of sensuality and allure to his demeanor, enhancing his appeal in a way that Alex couldn't resist. The contrast between his initial arrogance and his now rugged appearance only served to heighten the intrigue and attraction that Alex felt towards the transformed hairy hunk.

The businessman's confident stride faltered as he suddenly realized the shocking changes that had taken place without his knowledge. His eyes widened in disbelief as he registered the absence of his jacket, the open state of his shirt, and the unexpected emergence of a thick layer of body hair that now covered his once-smooth skin.

A wave of shock and confusion washed over him, his initial air of arrogance giving way to a moment of vulnerability and bewilderment. The stark contrast between his previous appearance and his current state left him momentarily speechless, his mind struggling to comprehend the sudden transformation that had befallen him.

As he stood frozen in place, the businessman's hands instinctively moved to touch the coarse hair that now adorned his body, a mixture of surprise and disbelief evident in his expression. The realization of his altered appearance dawned on him, prompting a flurry of questions and uncertainties about how such a drastic change could have occurred without his knowledge.

With a devilish grin, Alex whispered his wish for the businessman to embrace a newfound passion for leather and willingly submit to big leather daddies. The businessman, once a sharp-witted individual, felt a surge of primal desire coursing through his veins, clouding his once astute mind with a haze of raw, unbridled lust.

As the man's clothes transformed into tight leather straps, a profound shift occurred within him, altering the very essence of his sexuality from womanizing to a singular desire for leather daddies. The once confident and suave womanizer found himself consumed by a newfound craving for the dominant presence of leather-clad figures, his desires shifting from the pursuit of women to the allure of submission and power dynamics. The sensation of the leather straps against his skin awakened a primal need within him, drawing him into a world of hedonistic pleasure and erotic exploration centred around the commanding presence of leather daddies.

As he embraced his true desires and surrendered to the intoxicating pull of the leather-clad figures, leaving behind his womanizing ways in favour of a newfound passion for submission and sensuality.