Hello, Is This Croviniac Support ?

Chase was nervous going into his first year of college. Especially since he didn’t know who his roommate would be. When he met Alex for the first time he was annoyed by the stereotypical jock bro he was but tried to make the best of it. The two got along surprisingly well though and the first few weeks of school were good. Until one weekend when Chase complained to Alex that he had nothing to do because his date had cancelled on him. “We’ll you can always go to the party with me bro. I’ve been trying to get you there for weeks bruh. C’mon you love it!” Chase was unsure about going, he was shy and not really a party person. He also didn’t want to be around a lot of frat bros, which were most of Alex’s friends. But he reluctantly decided to give it a shot. Alex was excited but the next day before they left he told Chase that he needed to “fix something’s” before he could go to this party. Chase wasn’t sure what that meant but then Alex handed him a strange bottle and told him to drink it. Chase asked what is was but Alex said “don’t worry about it bruh. It’s just a little pre gaming.” So figuring it was alcohol Chase drank it. The stuff smelled nasty and burned all the way down his throat making him cough. “What was that shit bro?” He stopped as he noticed his voice sounded off, deeper and bro like. He was even talking like one now! He groaned as his body began to shake and his skinny body expanded with muscle. Big thick pecs pushing his shirt off them as his biceps did the same. His back widening and going down to a tight v taper. His abs were growing in a getting nice and defined as his legs thickened along with his ass. He let out and even deeper more sensual moan as he felt his dick grow longer and thicker in his pants. His balks swelled and dropped lower too. Full of new jock testosterone. He finished his transformation with his face becoming sharper and a stubbles beard filling in his jaw line as his hair hit a touch longer and slightly curly. “Hey you ready to go party bro?” Alex asked him. “Fuck yeah brah! I was born ready! Everyone is gonna dig this hot bod tonight bro. I’m so fucking horny!” Alex laughed as his former nerdy roommate was becoming a jock bro like him. “Oh yeah bro they definitely will love it. And you know that I do. Here I’ll help you out quick before we go.” With that Alex tan his hands down Chase’s firm muscles and gave him the best hand job he’d ever had. Bros take care of each other after all and these two would definitely have more “fun” together before the Semester was done.

The Boxers

Sometimes, the perfect life just finds you, bruh.

I used to be a pretty normal guy. Wait, scratch that, I was a total fuckin’ nerd. I spent all my time playin’ video games and readin’ fantasy books and shit. I was getting a degree in computer science, so I spent all my time alone, coding shitty apps and nerding out on Reddit.

I had, like, no sex life, lmao. I was a weedy little Indian geek, bro, you know the type, right? I had negative game. Every weekend, I’d spend all night playing WoW or whatever, then go to bed and fantasise about how many bros I’d get once I was, like, CEO of a multibillion dollar startup.

I guess the universe looked at me one day and said, “Why wait, bro?”

I got back to my dorm one night and these, like, gross boxers were sitting right on my floor. I remember I thought they were totally lame, because they had the Sriracha logo all over them. “Who wears those but nasty frat boys?” I thought to myself. Huhuhu, little did the old me know.

Anyway, these boxers were totally messing up the vibes of my dorm. I used to be such a neat freak, bro. A place for everything, and everything in its place. A smelly, used pair of boxers made my skin crawl. So, obvi, I went to pick them up with two of my slim little fingers and toss them in the trash. I figured it was some kind of gross prank on me.

Once I’d picked ‘em up, I could see exactly how dirty those boxers were. The legs were stiff with layers of musky sweat, the smell wafting off them strong enough to make my eyes water. There were a couple of grease stains on them, like some dude had eaten dinner in just his undies. The crotch was crusty, too. Someone, maybe multiple someones, had cum in these boxers.

I remember wondering why the thought got me hard.

Rather than taking the Sriracha boxers to the trash like I’d planned, I found myself giving them a second sniff, and then a third. Goddamn, they were fuckin’ gross, bro. I thought it was just my disgust making me smell them over and over again. Like I was trying to figure out exactly what had gotten on them.

Before long, I was palming my lil cock through my slacks, holding the boxers close to my face with my other hand. It was, like, a total head rush every time I took another sniff. Like I could feel my brain blanking out as I took more and more of the musky stench into me. Not that I knew that was what was actually happening, huhuhu.

When I stripped off my pants and undies to jerk off better, I suddenly had an awesome idea. I could, like, wear the Sriracha boxers and jerk off in them. My brain was already at least halfway transformed by then, lol. I was definitely no nerd at that point. The idea of wearing another guy’s musky boxers got me so fuckin’ turned on.

I pulled the boxers up my skinny brown legs. They hung on my hip bones, barely able to stay on. I laid down on my bed and felt my rock hard cock through the crusty fabric. It was like I could feel the cum and sweat of everyone who’d ever worn that underwear seeping into my skin as I massaged drops of precum out of my balls.

As I writhed on my sheets, lost in pleasure, my skinny Indian body started to change. It started with my feet, which cracked and stretched as they grew big and thick. They started to sweat, a funky foot musk joining the renewed stench of the Sriracha boxers, which were getting super wet with my precum. It was like the brown leached out of my skin with my musky foot sweat, too, as my big feet got all pale.

The change continued up my bare calves, which got super hairy as the muscles flexed and swelled. My legs lengthened as huge quads and hammies swelled up under my whitening skin. God, said my musk-addled mind, I love leg day. I started to flex and wiggle my bulky thighs, feeling the muscles stimulate my growing prostate.

I let out a high pitched little bitchboy moan as my ass inflated with juicy muscle and fat, but I knew that my voice wouldn’t sound like that for much longer. I’d totally embraced the transformation as my cock and balls filled out the pouch of the boxers. They were no longer, like, loose and shit. My fat ass and big bro cock were stretching the sweaty fabric to its limits, bro!

My chest followed, going from slim to bulky so fast that all the buttons on my nerd shirt hit the ceiling. Sweat instantly started to roll off my furry new pecs, and I ran my soft little hand up and down my thick, firm belly and flexed the solid abs I knew were underneath the fat. More than the boxers and the smell, my body was starting to turn me on, bruh. I was becoming, like, a total frat god.

The curly brown hair that grew in my armpits smelled sooooo good as sweat started to drip off it. I totally buried my little nerd face in my own pits and licked up my sweat as I watched my arms bulk up and get all pale and hairy. It was so hot flexing my bicep and watching it bulk up before my eyes, dude! I felt my hand grow as I tugged my big jock cock in the Sriracha boxers, thickening up and getting some hard-earned weightlifting calluses.

The last thing to change was my head. My moans got deeper, slower, and totally dumb-sounding as my neck thickened. A thick brown beard grew on my cheeks, framing my cheesy dumb smile perfectly. My nose cracked and grew into a big ol’ sniffer, even more sensitive than my old nose so I can really take in my bros’ musk.

My old black buzzcut grew out into a curly brown mane, totally greasy from all the sweat I soak it with when I work out, huhuhu. As my forehead got all pale and my eyes turned blue, I felt my cock go over the edge, and I came right into the Sriracha boxers. Pump after pump of musky frat bro cream, taking my old self with it to impregnate the boxers with even more fratty juice. As the room filled with the smell of my thick load, I totally passed out.

The next morning, I woke up in an unfamiliar room. I was in a big bed with musky, sweat-stained sheets, a bunch of stale, unwashed gym gear all over the floor. I was still wearing the Sriracha boxers, my cum caked into the stain along with all the other bros’, along with a cap that I turned backwards as I sat up. I pulled on a tank without too many sweat stains on it and went to explore.

Turned out I lived at the Mu Upsilon Sigma frat house now. The whole place smelled like a sweaty armpit, and it was full of musky bros who were more than happy for me to get all up in their smelly pits and cracks.

I wore the Sriracha boxers for a couple days. Honestly, I dunno how long, I usually only change my boxers like once a month, huhuhu. I worked out, jerked off, got drunk, got fucked, and jerked off some more, all while wearing those boxers. Then I left ‘em in some nerd’s dorm as a prank, huhu.

It was so hot to watch the lil Japanese guy get as zonked out on the musky boxers like I had, bro. We hid in his closet and watched while he jerked off and turned into another musky white frat boy like us, then carried him to the MYS house once he passed out.

It’s been a couple weeks since then, and MYS membership has only grown, bruh! Each bro wears the Sriracha boxers for a few days, adds his personal touch to the, like, seasoning, and then we pass ‘em on to another nerd and induct him into frat life! Maybe some night soon, you’ll see these bad boys in your dorm, huhuhu. Life's perfect in the frat, bro!

As a recent college graduate, I’ve been thinking a lot about past regrets I had from both high school and college. Like, I wish I had been more outgoing, where I would join clubs and go out friends rather than working after school and just playing video games. It would have also been nice to be out back in high school too, especially since I’m so far behind in life experiences as a gay man.

I wish I would have done different sports in school too because maybe it could have made me more athletic and attractive rather than being a chubby nerd. It’s hard to have so many regrets in life…

Do you think there’s any way you could help me and give me a new life where I no longer had these regrets?

Life-Changing Game

Not even a few weeks after graduating from college, you come home from shopping – it had been terrible and you just wanted to get home. Some mediocre country singer had a signing in the middle of the mall and even though you had no interest in the really bad music, it playing all the time, you couldn't help but admire this man. The fact that he was topless most of the time and flexing his muscles didn't necessarily make it any better.

You stare at the autograph in your right hand as you unlock your front door with your left. And shake your head. That was stupid. Still, you can't take your eyes off the well-toned man beaming at you on glossy paper. Without noticing, you put your bought food away in the cupboards almost as if in a trance and drop yourself onto your sofa. Your hand instinctively reaches for the controller next to you and your Playstation beeps. You sigh. Then you look down at yourself. Life in college without any real sporting activity and many hours alone in the library or in front of the game console showed its traces on your body. What had been just a slight belly line after high school is now a highly visible soft mass around your midsection. Sullenly, you pick up a roll of flab and wonder how you would be living your life if you had come out of your shell more back then – if you hadn't turned down the few invitations to party or to go to the gym together, if maybe you had approached that one cute guy earlier who you knew was freshly broken up with his boyfriend and that he was a wonderful person.

The screen of your TV flashes, you see the Playstation home screen. With a slight groan, you rise from the sofa and search the game you bought today out of the bag with the munchies for tonight's game night. This new RPG was brand new to the market – a few days ago a friend from college told you about it and had been all excited. But it was already sold out online, the game store had to order it first. But today it finally arrived. You quickly enter the registration code and the game starts downloading. The autograph is lying next to you and you look at it again. And you slip it under one of the sofa cushions. Maybe you could take a closer look at it later...

Your eardrums almost explode when the theme music plays. You flinch and your controller falls to the floor with a dull thud. With a contorted face, you search between the cushions for the remote, but your fingers only hit that autograph again. "Where the hell is that stupid remote?" you mutter as the bass of the music continues to pound your ears. But after what feels like three hours and a slight feeling of numbness, you find the remote under your own butt between the sofa cushions. You hurry to turn down the volume before the cranky old neighbour next door grumbles again like always. You exhale in relief and now, for the very first time, look at the start screen of the video in bright colours.

ULTIMATE COLLEGE EXPERIENCE - FIND YOUR ROLE

"Huh? What?! That's not the game I wanted, is it?!" you say annoyed and look at the packaging. At the corner of the box, the cover slowly comes off and you start pulling it off. Underneath the cover of the game you actually wanted is revealed what almost made your ears bleed just now. "What a load of crap! Great, really great!" you exclaim, dropping into the mountain of pillows behind you. But you already know that you probably won't go back to the shop, because you feel so uncomfortable talking to the staff there. You straighten up again. It doesn't help. You bought the game and spent $30. So, you might as well play it.

You pick up the controller again and press a button. The screen flickers again and you are asked to enter a name. So, this was also something where you were supposed to create a character. At least something. What name should you choose? Your own? Nah. What was the name of that man you were thinking about earlier? You think about it harder. Then you remember. Mitchell.But you use your mother's maiden name as your last name. Glass. As you painstakingly write the name in the boxes, the tight-fitting polo shirts he used to wear come back to your mind. You clear your throat and realise that you are getting a little warm at the thought.

You quickly confirm the name. It seems more and more familiar. Mitchell Glass. You like the name. It feels good. The picture changes, the character creation continues. Now comes the appearance of the character.

You've always been a bit envious of other people in college who looked very different from and hotter than you. So, you decide to build your character the way you would like to be. After all, it's only a game and no one would see this. You are a little excited. Like every time you create a character for a game. You are fascinated by how easy it is to change all the external characteristics with one click. Maybe even a little more than other people.

You click through the categories. First the general. Age. You think about it. 21. If that's college, then at least your character shouldn't have any problems with drinking either. Height. You've always wanted to be a little taller, too. You enter 6''2'. Hair and eye colour. Dark brown. Structure of hair. Wavy. Hairstyle. Short on sides, longer on top. Other hair. Little. Physique. Muscular. Social status. Athlete. Sexuality. Gay, in a relationship, lots of experience. So, you go on and on, you fill in the strengths and weaknesses of your character, you choose special features and hobbies (partying and working out), you spend almost 10 minutes modelling the perfect face – in short, you crafted the perfect man. The man you always wanted to be. In the end, you are very satisfied and look at the very realistic-looking figure languishingly. What you would give to look like that, to have such a character, to be so cool!

One last time you are asked if you want to keep the changes to your character as they are. During the game, the attributes could no longer be changed manually. You think this is a pity, but you want to see this Adonis you have created in action. You confirm the question with yes and a loading screen appears on your TV.

Loading process - Please do not switch off the game while the player is being adjusted.

"Great, then I can quickly get something to eat - wait, the player? The player is being adjusted?", you ask yourself aloud, just as you were about to go into the kitchen, and now you are staring at the screen. A very strange feeling spreads through your body and once again the controller falls out of your hand. There are tingles and tickles everywhere as if someone had given you a few light electric shocks. Your breathing speeds up and sweat pours down your body. Something is wrong here, you think, and you want to pull the plug on the Playstation, but then your clothes suddenly flow to the floor like water and disappear into nothingness.

A little ashamed, you look down at yourself and your eyes widen as your belly, moving with your deep breaths, slowly but surely retracts into your body. In disbelief, you place your trembling hands on your shrinking belly and as your fingertips touch your skin, an incredible feeling shoots through your body. Something you haven't felt like this before. Something you might have felt once or twice, at most, when masturbating alone.

"Oh, God, what's going on here? What - ooooh," you gasp and you feel something begin to stir in your crotch. Your cock stiffens and you put your trembling, sweaty hands around it and again you moan. Everything is so much more sensitive than usual. And as you move your hands up and down, you throw your head back. It feels... indescribable and you are no longer capable of any real clear thought.

The years you spent in college with your nose in books in countless libraries seem to be falling away from you. Your skin tightens a little again, not that you've really looked any older, but with each passing second, you seem more like someone who's just started college.

"Of course, I've only just started! It just took me a little longer at school," you mumble absently, and the loading screen on your TV shows:

First improvements done. Total progress 10%.

A force from inside your body lengthens your spine. It creaks and cracks until you reach 6‘‘2‘. Your whole body structure starts changing into something different as you continue to jack off. Your arms grow thick with muscles and moderately become covered in veins. The result of perpetual lifting and training every week since you were 16 years old. Now, for the first time in your life, you had real muscles! You involuntarily flex your new arms and enjoy the feeling of the power laying inside of them. Your hands follow and grow thicker, your fingers only used to click and scroll, broaden and callouses form on your palms. The change spread to your chest.

The strange force pulls on your before slightly flabby, now bone-thin chest and pulls and pulls until a nice set of pecs protruded from your chest. They went up and down with your heavy breathing. What was happening to you, you want to ask, but you are way too filled with pleasure and enjoyment to speak. Meanwhile, unknowingly to you, the loading bar was at about 35 %.

Something flicks from the inside against your flat belly and one by one well-trained abs appear. Something inside your body pulls on your shoulders and spreads them further apart. Your back muscles strengthen drastically and stature becomes a perfect v-form. The tingling goes down your body and forges your butt into a muscular, well-trained butt and your legs into trunks of muscles if they were made out of clay. Your feet grow a little longer and bigger to support your again higher weight, but now out of pure muscle. For a brief moment, the strange tingling stopped and your head becomes clear for a short time. You look down. Everything except your head was changed into a muscular body of a young, strong man who was not you.

But then that feeling of pleasure shoots through your body again. And your cock is crying out for your hands, which you can't deny it. You gasp. An unpleasant crunch spreads across your face as your features change. Your hair grows shorter at the sides and takes on a dark brown colour. Slowly it becomes slightly wavy. At the same time every hair beneath your chin retracts back into your skin, leaving you almost smooth everywhere. Your eyes burn briefly before your irises also take on a brown colour. Your facial features become a little more angular, stronger, but it is still apparent that you are still quite young. The boyish charm is still visible in contrast to your well-trained body. You have to cough and your Adam’s apple is getting bigger. Your voice is getting stronger and a little deeper so that it can be used to roar easily across a pitch.

By now you are completely absorbed again in stroking your cock the best you can. Between your hands, it grows wider and longer, your balls flooding your body with youthful energy and hormones. You moan. The sound of your deeper voice makes you shudder and moan even more. Confidence seeps from your body, you are proud of your muscles, you know how to use them to impress other men, to flirt with them, to sleep with them. You don't even notice how your knowledge of your college days disappears from your memory and is replaced by other knowledge. Training schedules, your teammates' favourite drinks and the memory of your first date with your steady boyfriend.

The writing on the TV, which by now you don't even notice anymore, so much you enjoy the strength and endurance of your changed body, changes again.

90 % complete. Attention! Final mental changes are incoming.

But just before anything can happen there, the screen goes black. But you don't care. With a loud moan, you feel the pressure in your crotch release and you shoot your seed over your TV. With a loud flicker, the Playstation flares up again as your seed drips onto it, and your surroundings begin to change. Your flat becomes smaller, a second bed appears at the end of the room. Sports trophies, jerseys, protein powder and many other things to train with are spread around the room. Still in the afterglow, a name manifests itself more and more in your head. Mitchell. Mitchell Glass. The life of this man fills your head and with another groan, you fall onto the bed in your dorm room and lose consciousness.

When you wake up a few hours later, you see a person standing next to you, looking down at you.

"You couldn't wait for me to get home again, could you, Mitch?" you hear a voice and you open your eyes. Next to you is a man with headphones in his ears, probably about to go to the gym. You blink your eyes and your look changes from confused to cocky. You tug the other down by his shirt.

"I'm still up for a second round with my hot boyfriend," you murmur, starting to caress his exposed muscular chest. Cody.Your steady boyfriend you met at a party last year. The best relationship you've had so far. And there had been quite a few. But Cody is perfect. Hot, a cool guy and the sex is great. In two hours, your buddies would be coming over. There's a party on campus, after all, and drinks for free. And you want some alone time with your boyfriend beforehand. And even as you pinch his nipples and your mouths lock, the Playstation, with numerous sports games piled messily next to it, displays a final writing before it switches itself off.

Player 100% changed. Full College Experience is ready to start. Thank you for choosing ChangeStation Enterprises!

Hey, a longer story today - longer than I expected (whence why it's late). Hope you still like it nevertheless !

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I read with horror the letter. The infamous letter that every new member of the Gamma Alpha Tau fraternity receives. The one inviting us to the pledge party at the Delta Omega Gamma frat house.

The Gamma Alpha Tau fraternity couldn’t be farther apart from the Delta Omega Gamma.

We are a house very well-known for its great alumni and for cultivating its member’s academic proficiency, with the highest standards of intelligence. We even host some of the highest-profile scientific conferences, so infamous we are. It kind of means that we are a place full of nerds – I am no exception, with my lanky form and my messy black mop of hair – but it’s more of a compliment than an insult, really.

Delta Omega Gamma, on the other hand, cares not for academic faculties – their grades barely even scratching college average. No, they are more well known for their infamous giant parties and highest standards for athletic abilities, and are always scouted by some of the biggest sports teams in the world.

However, the Delta Omega Gamma had apparently a bit of a bad joke they liked to pull, of inviting the new pledges from the Gamma Alpha Tau in their first pledge party after the rush had ended. Apparently, everyone in this house had received that letter when they joined, and nobody wants to talk about it, and this year, it’s no different.

The two new members, Brandon and I had both received the letter. None of us were thrilled about the idea, Brandon even told me he would prefer working on mid-terms rather than going there. That guy is a bit of a math genius, a bit chubby with long unkempt hair, which along with his thick-rimmed glasses makes him look like the perfect nerd, but even him can’t like mid-terms. However, ever since the start of rush week, he’s stared multiple times at me, a bit creepily, so even though we’re in the same boat, I don’t really trust him all that much.

“There’s no way I’m ever going there.” He says, with his nasally voice.

- Yeah, indeed…” I agree, meekly.

- We can agree on that. Let’s just put the invite in the bin...”

However, as we approached the kitchen, the frat president stopped us. Even though he looks as nerdy as us, he has quite an imposing presence. Is it because of his lean muscles, his good style or simply his powerful voice of an expert in rhetoric ? I don’t know, but it shows that he deserves the title of president.

“You are going to that party. And that is non-negotiable.

- But we aren’t going to go to a party full of dumb jocks ! We’re here to study !” Defends Brandon. I agree with a nod.

- You are. To both questions. If you don’t go to that party, it’s the same punishment as under-performing : a strike. And remember, you’re still pledges, not full members yet, so one strike and you’re out.”

I don’t dare say a thing, though I see Brandon mumbling. However, after he stops mumbling, I gather my courage and ask :

“Why do we need to go ? What is the use ?” I ask with my still quite discernible accent.

- It’s necessary to maintain a good relationship with our neighbors, and you won’t be an exception.”

I feel like he’s omitting something big, even though it seems like he’s saying the truth. Why would it be so essential to go there if it was only good neighborly relations ?

I nod and resign myself. That party is in only a few hours, so I need to be at least presentable. I let Brandon argue a while more while I go to my room and take acceptable clothes : a good dress shirt, jeans, and a belt. Then, I go to the bathroom and arrange a bit my mop so that it’s a bit more regular. If I go to that party, it’s to go sight-seeing, so I need to be incongruous.

After a while of preparing and failed negotiations, Brandon and I stand in front of the Delta Omega Gamma house. He stands a bit uncomfortably close to me, but I don’t blame him. I’m terrified too. I don’t do loud sounds, bright lights, alcohol and especially socialization good.

However, I decide that we can’t dally around for all eternity, and step to the main door to knock on it. The door opens on the first hottie of the evening.

“Hello Brandon and Peter – or Phitha, I don’t know what you go by !” The big man said with a booming voice. “Thank you for joining us, my bros ! I’m Jordan, the president of the Delta Omega Gamma frat !”

We don’t dare say a word, terrified by how muscular that guy, and for me, too turned on to function. Seeing our hesitancy, Jordan continues :

“So, little bros, come with me ! I’m sure you’re gonna have a great time at the craziest party you’ve ever been part of !” He says with much more enthusiasm than we showed.

He motioned us to enter, and so we did. As we entered, we found a house suspiciously similar to Gamma Alpha Tau. The walls are the same, with the same rich grain of wood, the kitchen is at the same place, and even the big marble chimney is there, only on the other side when compared to our house. Yes, actually, it seems like it’s a copy of Gamma Alpha Tau, but mirrored.

However, it still clearly the home of jocks. The couches are low and covered by some tank tops, shorts and socks, a bit haphazardly thrown around. There’s also a ton of bottles of beer on what is a study table at our frat… it’s like we’re thrown in another dimension !

As we look around, however, another frat bro comes and blocks our path. A bit weirded out, I look behind and see Jason blocking our exit. Oh no, I think too late. It’s hazing.

“Say hello to Chad. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s a cool bro.” Says Jason from behind. “So cool in fact that he’s gonna help me prepare you two for the party. You can’t expect to just come in with a dress shirt and stay quiet in your corner ! You wouldn’t have fun, little bros !”

I look at him. He has a bit of malice in his look, though weirdly no evil. However, Brandon is the first to be revolted.

“What are you doing ! You’re going to torture us ? You know it’s illegal ! Stop that, immediately !” He says with his nasally voice, drawing the laughs of Jason and Chad.

- Don’t worry, you will understand everything by the end of the party…” Says Jason, enigmatically.

Jason gives a nod to Chad, and both of them suddenly grip our arms. I struggle, trying to free myself, and Brandon does the same, only more vocally :

“Let me go ! You can’t do that ! Stop it, now !”

Though it is to no avail, and Chad drags him up the stairs. As I’m dragged, struggling, to what’s presumably the downstairs bathrooms, Jason whispers to me :

“Your friend’s quite chatty… I’m sure Chad will shut him up…” I give him a stern look, and he laughs, before adding : “While I guess I’ll open you up, you need to say what’s on your mind…”

We reach what is indeed a bathroom, and he sits me on a stool.

“So, dude, to get you ready, you gotta undress.” He sees me blushing, and laughs. “I didn’t mean your underwear, bro ! But if you want…”

I shake vigorously my head, and he sighs. I still don’t dare say anything, fearing his wrath, so I obey him. I had too hard a time back home to try and resist…

When I’m barely in my underwear, he takes my clothes and puts them into a bag, before going through the drawers until he takes out… clippers. And scissors. And a weird bottle full of glue-y product. He’s going to shave me ! That I can’t accept !

“Mai, phom tongkan sing nan ! (ไม่ ผมไม่ต้องการสิ่งนั้น!)” I say, accidentally switching back to Thai, starting to flee.

- Ah, so now you talk, little bro !” He answers, seemingly understanding that I said something along the lines of ‘I don’t want that’. “Don’t worry dude, the door’s locked and I have the key.”

Not what I hoped to hear ! I get to the door to find it locked. Then, Jason turns to me and drags me back on the stool. I struggle harder, as the clippers are being activated.

“Let me go ! Not my hair ! I actually like that !

- Don’t worry, bro, I’m not cutting it full ! But if you continue like that, there’s gonna be accidents…”

As I continue struggling, he pulls the clippers closer. And then, as predicted, the clippers accidentally scratch my left eyebrow. I shout, as it actually really hurts.

“You see, bro ! You can’t stop it, but you can make it worse !

- But what do you want me to do ? Just accept ?” I ask rhetorically. However, Jason didn’t quite get the memo.

- Yes, just accept.” He answers.

This shuts me up. I stay put, tears in my eyes, letting him cut the sides of my hair, my eyebrow still in pain. I see around me tuft after tuft of black hair falling, depressed. I love my hair, it may be bushy and messy, but I love it when my mae ruffles it, and now she won’t be able to…

After a while, I feel him make rays, but I don’t care anymore. He takes out the scissors, and I don’t care. There’s yet more hair falling, and it’s just more of a disaster. He takes the bottle of glue – that I now understand is gel – and applies it to my hair. The most personal thing I have.

Seeing my desperate face, Jason turns my head towards the mirror, and I see what he did to me.

I look like a Korean singer or something – although, is it me or my skin looks clearer ? And my facial features changed ? Before I can wonder about that, my thoughts are interrupted by Jason.

“Now, bro, it’s time for the most important : the clothes ! I’ve prepared you some stuff, and you get to choose !”

He says that as if I was psyked to wear new clothes… He reveals a table on which multiple clothes were laid out, from footwear to headwear. There even was underwear – he wasn’t joking when he said I could undress fully.

As Jason mops up the excess hair, he tells me :

“Aren’t they cool, bro ? I’ve even made categories for you ! But you have to take at least one from each, dude !” He smiles a bit sadistically. “Don’t hesitate to tell me how much you love those…”

Starting from the left, there are two pairs of white socks, the difference between which I can’t really see, along with three pairs of shoes : white sneakers, white converse and white flip-flops.

“Are you sure I can’t just wear my shoes ? They’re good enough…” I say, meekly, still in shock by the haircut.

- Nah, bro, they’re lame ! White shoes are great to catch the attention of the dudes and the babes !” He answers, visibly talking from experience. Is he… no, he’s likely talking about showing off to other men.

- I don’t care, I didn’t even want to go here…”

I reach for the white sneakers and the white socks. I usually wear black sneakers, they’re easier to put on, and it’s only the color that changes… As I take them, I notice that there is some glitter on the sneakers. Is that to be more flashy !?

“Bro, I like how you say what you want ! That’s a good quality for a bro to have ! But it doesn’t matter, dude, you have to stay until the very end !

- Well, I can always sneak out after a few hours, nobody will notice…

- Huhuhu, I guess I’ll have to watch the exits, I wouldn’t want you to flee in the middle of the night, little bro !”

I stop myself. Had I just thought aloud ? It… never happens ! I’m always quiet, and only talk when I’m in the place where I should ! Like a polite person does ! Ugh, I knew that going to this party was a bad idea, but I can’t disappoint my mae and my pho back home by not being in the best frat…

As Jason looks at me, smirking, I switch my attention back to the clothes. Next step… the pants. There is underwear – very flashy underwear – laid out above the real pants, but it’s not what I focus on. The choice is even more limited, with gray sweatpants, black sports shorts and white chino shorts…

“My god, there’s nothing to wear ! I wear jeans or chino pants, not… that ! Plus, they’re way too large !” I comment quite angrily.

- Bro, we’re at a party, and we’re barely in September ! It’s hot, we’re not gonna wear something that’s too tight and too hot !

- I… I guess you’re right…” I concede.

His argumentation is weirdly convincing, it does make sense that, as it’s still hot outside, I shouldn’t wear something that covers too much. However, I still hate to have my legs exposed, so I take the gray sweatpants, and put it on, along with the socks and the shoes. Ugh, I’m already way out of my comfort zone and it’s barely half of the stuff I have to wear…

The next category is the tops, and…

“Are you kidding me ? What’s that choice ? An extremely ugly polo with ugly prints, a nice beige dress shirt but without holes to put the buttons in, and a tank top with this frat’s print ? What do you want me to wear, nai thisut (ในที่สุด) ?” I blow up, very angry, almost unable to quell the swears.

- Well, you could wear nothing on top, bro !” He laughs.

- In your dreams, ai (ไอ้) !” I answer, leaving a small swear.

I finally decide to take the tank top. I won’t be shirtless, yet I don’t want to wear that ugly piece of… clothing… that is the polo. I put it on, reluctantly, feeling weird about this kind of half-clothed half-naked feeling, exaggerated by how big that top is on me.

“Now I’ve put on the top, are you happy ?

- More happy than you think, bro.” Jason answers, smiling. “But it’s not the end, you still have three categories, dude !

- I’m not doing that because I want to !”

After the one-liner, I go back to the selection. Now, it seems to be accessories… I don’t wear accessories, they’re useless ! Ugh… I see that on the table there’s a good variety of items : a luxurious watch, a steel bracelet, a few golden rings and… what looks like an arm cuff ? I’ve already seen that on some people, but only on women.

“What’s your budget if you can consider giving me a luxurious watch ?” I can’t stop myself from asking.

- As big as the right items require it to be, bruh.” He grins.

I can’t possibly consider the watch nor anything expensive like gold, so by elimination there’s only the steel bracelet that’s possible… So I take it, and go to the necklace section. Because it somehow needs its own section.

There are multiple kinds of necklace, one with shells, one with string and a shark tooth, a large chunky chain, and a thinner chain with an N pendant. This time, I don’t hesitate and take that last one. My last name is Namsaichaikho, so it feels right to represent it.

And then, there is the last section. Inside, there are two snapbacks, two pairs of sunglasses, diamond-like gauges and black earrings. I look at Jason.

“How do you expect me to wear earrings ? I haven’t pierced my ears.

- Bro, they’re magnetic. You don’t need to pierce your ears to put them on, bruh.” He answers, amused.

I look at them more carefully and see that they’re indeed designed to go over the earlobe, not inside. So I could wear them.

After some consideration, I took the earrings. They’re by far the least egregious one, even though it isn’t a whole lot better. I put on the last of my jewelry, and I look back at Jason, showing to him my discontent still from having to go through this.

“Now, are we finished with the fucking hazing ?” I swear without even thinking.

- Well you look great, Peter – I’m gonna call you Peter, alright !” He says, grinning, as if he was proud of himself. I don’t see quite why he would. “D’ya want to take some more, bro ?

- No fucking way.

- Huhuhu, alright. Don’t worry, you’re hot enough already. Ya know, in the party there’s the whole fraternity, and there’s also the sorority Nu Iota Tau ! I’m sure someone’s gonna find you hot as hell !”

I look in the mirror. I’m ridiculous. I look like a frat bro, except one from which you’ve taken all the muscles, all the attitude, and all the hotness. Even the clothes are too big, like they’re signaling that something’s missing ! Hot my ass, I’m just gonna stay there, do nothing, and go back home to forget everything that’s happened here. Hopefully the other members of Gamma Alpha Tau won’t notice my haircut…

“So, are you ready to smash it ?” Jason asks me, overly enthusiastic, holding the door of the bathroom open.

- It’s not as if I have a fucking choice, ai (ไอ้)…” I say to him as I go out.

After all the time we spent in the bathroom, the interior of the frat had changed quite a bit. Visibly, someone took care of the common room by tidying it up, and some frat members were already starting to prepare for the party itself.

“I guess you’ve called us here early on purpose...” I ask Jason, not really realizing I had said my thoughts out loud.

- Yup, that’s correct, bro !” By now I don’t really register when he answers my thoughts. “Though you two were morons for thinking that a party starts at 6 PM huhuhu.

- I’ve never gone to parties before, plus I’m not from here ! I assumed it was normal !” I remark, offended and showing it.

- Yeah, you’re from Thailand so it checks out. But your friend was really dumb, bro.

- He’s not my friend. We’re like… er… co-pledge. Yeah. Not friends.”

That memory lapse was weird. Like, I don’t usually have brain farts like that…

“Okay, okay, not your style, huh ?” Jason laughs. “Can’t help it, though you better get along, bro. ‘Cause you’re gonna be with him tons of years, huh ? Y’all in Gamma Alpha Tau stay a ton more years more than us in college, huh ! Just have to socialize, it can’t be difficult !

- Ai (ไอ้), it very fucking hard, you know !” By now, it’s hard not to swear…

- Don’t worry, I know you’re a natural, bro. See how you talk to me, dude ! See how you socialize with me ! No problem, huh ?”

I look unimpressed, but before I can retort, Chad sneaks up on Jason and whispers to him. He whisper back, and they have a whole conversation, however I can only understand a few words, due to how noisy the room already is.

Apparently, there’s talk of struggling, of not cooperating, of help and of monitoring. I can’t quite understand everything, but I chuckle as I understand that they’re likely talking about Brandon. That creep is likely giving Chad a hard time, and honestly, good for him. At least one of us has a spine…

After the discussion, Jason turns back to me.

“Well, Peter bro, I need to do something upstairs. So, have fun down here at the party ! And remember to socialize, bro, I know you’re a natural at that !”

On that, he goes upstairs with Chad. I consider for a while leaving there and then. After all, nobody knows me, here, so my leave wouldn’t be noticed… However, as I consider that, I feel the weight of all the other bros’ gaze. I can’t, someone would discover, and I’ll say lakon talotpai (ลาก่อนตลอดไป) to the frat and my parent’s expectations…

So, I decide to go inside the main room, see what’s there, and find a spot to stay in that’s far enough that people don’t notice me, yet close enough that I can credibly feign to have participated in the party.

As I go towards the center of the room, where there are people installing the main beer kegs, I get looks from the bros. More than looks, besides the chats about setting up the party, I hear people talking about me.

“Have you seen that guy, bro ? He doesn’t even fit !

- Yeah, what does the prez have in mind, dude ?”

“So funny, he has like nothing more than bones, bro !

- Yeah bro, d’ya think he eats, bro ?

- Nah, he only eats grass I wager.”

I’m quite discouraged when I hear that. Even though I didn’t believe a second what Jason said about me being a natural at socializing, it still hurts to be proven right like that. I feel a muscle twitch.

I go to the other side of the room, close to the kitchen. There, I see the bros take out the packs of beer. Suddenly, one of them hails me :

“Hey little bro, can you help us ? We need to take the packs to the low table.

- I’m sorry, I’m not really that strong…” I answer, suddenly bashful when that stranger speaks to me.

- Come on, it’s not that heavy, little bro ! Plus I’m gonna give you a can at the end !”

I don’t want a can of beer by any means, but as he continues insisting, I go help them. The packs are surprisingly light, although they do tense up my muscles quite a lot. It’s a good workout, I guess…

When every pack has been transferred, they pick one for each of the helpers, and one is given to me.

“Here you go, bro, for the effort !”

He is very jovial, and then starts downing the can. I’m very hesitant, I absolutely don’t do alcohol, but as I feel the judgmental stares piling on me, I open my can and start sipping it slowly.

It’s a weird beverage, not very good, and with a horrid smell, yet there is something to it that makes me want to drink more. The other bros make a sign and go away, and I take that as a sign to go back to exploring, can in hand.

As I explore, the frat becomes more lively, with the first members of the sorority Nu Iota Tau joining us as the party starts for real. I even eye in the distance Jason, meaning he has finished with his deed.

As I walk, I feel my muscles twitch harder and harder. I look at the can. Is that the beer’s fault ? I know it tends to muddy the thoughts, but I never expected that to be also an effect… however, I can’t help myself from taking another sip.

Once again, I listen to what people say behind my back, and do hear a few things. Though I didn’t expect to hear what I heard :

“Is that a new pledge ? He’s a bit skinny, but he has future.

- Yeah, I especially like his style, dude. Though have you seen how he drinks his beer ? It’s like it’s champagne or something, bro, so funny !

- Dude you’re underestimating beer ! It’s the best drink on earth, bro !”

“Bro, that guy’s from which frat ? Is he invited ?

- I guess, party crashers usually come later, so I guess the prez want to convert some new bros to Delta Omega Gamma huhuhu !”

I decide to drink more frankly from my beer can. I’m getting a bit dizzy, but it’s good, so I wouldn’t want to waste it…

“Bro, what are you doing ? You don’t wanna play beer pong ?” Suddenly says a frat bro, pulling me out of my thoughts.

- Sorry, I don’t play that kind of games…

- Bro, I’ve seen you down that can. You want some beer, yeah ? So come with me, dude !

- No, really, I insist-” I start as I’m interrupted by another bro.

- Hey, if you want to be a real bro, you should come, bro. There’s enough for everybody, three times.”

That guy has a much more dominating attitude, so I concede and follow them outside. They give me the rules, and we start playing. I actually have quite a bit of fun, small talking with the other guys and getting excited at where the ball lands.

After a few rounds however, it becomes clear that I’m not good at throwing stuff, and I botch all the shots that I take… As a punishment, my team makes me drink nearly all the cups, and after only a single game, I feel very dizzy.

“Bro, I’m sorry but I won’t play with you a second time, you’re so fucking bad !” Says my teammate, the one who dragged me to the game in the first place.

- Y-Yeah… I know… … bro.” I answer, unexpectedly mirroring everyone else’s speech patterns.

- Dude you’re so out of it, go sit on the couch to sober up, okay bro ?” The other teammate, with the more dominating attitude, tells me, with a hint of worry in his voice.

- Okay... bro.” I answer with a bit of a daze.

I reel to the couch and sit on it. My muscles are still twitching, but I attribute that to the beer. As I’m resting, I listen to what people are saying about me :

“Have you seen that guy ? He’s so hot, but he seems already wasted…

- He must have drunk tons of beer, he doesn’t seem like a lightweight…”

“Bro, d’ya know when that guy joined ?

- I dunno, I don’t remember him… Is it Kai ? No, he’s over there… or Jay ? No, he left this year to become pro…

- Should we ask prez ? He might know who he is.”

It starts becoming dark, yet also hot due to all the bodies heating the main room. As I start sweating, I just go to take my tank top off – feeling though a bit clumsy as I do that – and lie down to sober up. As I do that, I feel the burning looks of those around me...

I don’t know why, but it makes me feel self-conscious, so I stand back up and put on the Delta Omega Gamma tank top. Doing that, I also scratch my crotch. Is it… scrapier than usual ? When I move my arms walking around, it also feels weirdly scrapy… and big.

But, before I can fully comprehend what happened to me, I’m interrupted by two girls from Nu Iota Gamma.

“Hey, cutie, I’ve never seen you here ! Who are you ?”

The very concept of being called cute, let alone being hit on by a woman throws me for a loop. So much for a loop in fact that I default to a flirty line :

“I’m Phitha, but you can call me Peter.”

The women giggle.

“I can see that you have an N on your necklace, Peter…” Starts the first.

- Does it stand for the Nu in Nu Iota Gamma ? Because I can totally see you as an honorary member…” The second finishes.

I’m a bit confused, still dizzy from all the alcohol, so I start answering with the truth, too gay to comprehend straight flirting :

“Well, it actually stands for-”

I’m suddenly interrupted by a strong hand circling my waist, and a deep, monotone voice stating :

“He’s mine. Get out.”

I look behind me, and see an extremely hot guy.

“Oh my god, you’re so hot…” I think aloud, once again talking before thinking.

Seeing how over the moon I am at being embraced like that by another guy, the two women discreetly back out, though by now, I had already forgotten about them.

That guy looks at me with a hungry but emotionless look, as if he knew that he was the alpha here. And clearly, he was, as he continued embracing me. Without thinking, I tell him :

“So, bro, what do you want to do with me ? If I’m yours… you have to take care of me, huh ?”

He nods, and without saying a word, drags me around until we reach a free bedroom. I’m over the moon at being dragged like that by a man like him… it’s something that could only have happened in my wildest dreams !

Once we’re in, he takes my tank top out, flinging it to the other side of the room, and pushes me on the bed. He then starts slow by undressing me little by little, first the shoes, then the socks, then the sweatpants, and he teases me by pulling on the border of my underwear. I bite my lip. It’s too good to be real !

He then does the same to himself, though faster, and goes until nothing remains.

“Suck.” He simply orders as he steps on the bed, on his knees, his apparatus on full display.

I go do it, and ensues a series of moans by him. I might be a virgin, yet somehow I suck him with an expertise only veterans possess. After a while, he pushes my face out, his apparatus throbbing, and as he goes to the nightstand, he orders :

“Turn around.”

Beyond excited, I hear him putting on condom and lube, and then impales me. This time it’s him who shows a great expertise – though I can guess this expertise has actually been acquired.

The session is intense, and we finally both come after a good long while of edging and pleasure. We’re both exhausted, and he collapses on me. We have barely enough energy to “decouple” and throw the condom in the bin before we fall asleep.

The next day, I wake up with rays of sunshine, as morning comes. I see that I’m in bed along with the hot stranger, who’s holding me. I smile, and carefully move his arms so that I am free from his embrace. Thankfully, he seems to be a heavy sleeper, so I let him sleep.

I take a phone on the nightstand – presumably my phone – and I instinctively press the camera key. I put the phone quite from me, right in the pose to make a selfie, when suddenly, two things hit me as intensely wrong.

First, since when do I do selfies ?

Second, who the hell is that guy on the phone ?

I rub my lips, and find that, indeed, hair had grown on it. I’ve never been able to grow a mustache, nevermind a goatee like that !

I’m almost tempted to rush outside the bedroom to go in the bathroom, but then I notice I’m still naked. So I go back, rummage through the abandoned clothes on the ground to find underwear, and then go out of the bedroom.

My step is heavy, though it is not clumsy, as if I was used to being this big. My god are my muscles big. I… guess that’s the pump for you…

My step is heavy, though it is not clumsy, as if I was used to being this big. My god are my muscles big. I… guess that’s the pump for you…

I go through the living room, messy and full of clothes, cups, as well as some vomit, trying to be as discreet as possible so as not to wake anyone up – which is not easy with this big a body. After a few cups accidentally falling on the ground, I am hailed by someone who I didn’t notice was in the kitchen.

“Hey Peter, doin’ good ?”

I look at Jason, sat on a tall stool in the kitchen. He invites me to take place on one of the bar stools at the other side of the counter. I oblige.

“Yup, I’m doing good, bro.” It seems natural to give out ‘bros’ in my speech, though now, sober, I notice the fact that I don’t usually do that. “I mean, I’m doing good.

- Huhuhu you can’t resist the call of the bro ! So funny. But no, it wasn’t for that that I called you, bro. I’ve got two things to tell you.” He puts in a dramatic pause. “First of all… why always my bedroom, bro ! Why is it that when the pledges come, they always fuck in my bedroom ! I had to go to Gamma Alpha Tau ‘cause of your shenanigans, bro !”

I blush.

“Did we really fuck in there ? I’m sorry, bruh…” I think out loud, once again.

- You’d think I’d be used to it, but no, it’s every single time… But yeah, bro, that’s not the important part.” He once again puts in a dramatic pause. “Second of all… d’ya wanna know why you’re not how you used to be like ?

- What, you know that I’m not myself, bro ?

- Yeah, dude, how could I not see when you become a piece of hotness like that ?

- Well thanks, bro.” I say, involuntarily flexing in front of him. I really am doing weird stuff, here…

- Heh, nice bruh.” He laughs, before regaining his composure. “But yeah, d’ya wanna know or…

- I wanna know.” I say with a confidence I rarely have – but under those circumstances, I guess I often have.

Jason laughs at my answer, but knows when to be serious :

“Well, in fact, bro, Gamma Alpha Tau and Delta Omega Gamma are linked. We are two twin frats, and ever since the beginning of our existence, those from Gamma Alpha Tau come to Delta Omega Gamma to unwind and relax after study sessions, while those from Delta Omega Gamma come to Gamma Alpha Tau come to study and keep up their grades.

- And how does the… transformation… fit ?

- Well, when we go to the other frat, we get transformed to a body that fits the frat we’re in. Don’t worry, when you’re out of the Delta Omega Gamma property you’re gonna be back to your regular you, but each time you come back, this is the body you’re coming back to.” He pauses, before continuing : “This is why we invite the Gamma Alpha Tau pledges to our pledge party, bro, to make them be in the know ! And I can’t help myself from helping mold our new bro, that’s why I gave you a haircut and the clothes… that you’re not wearing…

- I wanted to go to the bathroom, bro. I just need underwear.” I say, confidently.

- Yeah, makes sense. So yeah, bro, where do you think the Delta Omega Gamma pledges are, right now ?”

I think hard about that. For some reason, I have a hard time parsing the answer in the fog of my mind… and it isn’t helped by the now aching feeling of hangover… Seeing me put my hand on my head, Jason slides me a cup of coffee, “for the hangover”.

“I dunno, man, here ?” I finally answer. Even though I have an inkling that it’s a trick question, I just can’t seem to find the trick.

- No ! False, bro ! They’re in Gamma Alpha Tau, and they’re by now waking up from their intense study session in their nerd bodies !

- Wow, so weird to imagine, bruh…

- Well, you’re gonna have to get used to it, because from now until the rest of the year, there’s gonna be people in one frat or the other. We always send the dates of our parties, bro, and we come to yours when we need to study, dude !”

I think a while about the situation. Basically, we’re two twin frats that are the opposite of one another, yet the occupants go from one frat to another to compensate for what they don’t have…

“Bro, why is that ? Why is there transformation ?” I think aloud, yet again.

- Ah. That question. Basically, we don’t know, bro, it’s been like that ever since the beginning. So we just continue tradition and good neighborly relations !”

He laughs, but I hear in his answer a hint of lying. However, I really don’t trust this version of myself to be able to argue it out so I let the issue go… I then wonder about the man I had in bed. He arrived quite late, but he never told me his name…

“Do you know who was there at the party, bro ?

- There was the Delta Omega Gamma frat, save for our five pledges, the Nu Iota Tau sorority, the two new pledges from the Gamma Alpha Tau frat – so you and Brandon – and at the very end there were some Psi Iota Lambda party crashers, but you were already on your own world. You two were the first to go away, bro…”

I think a while, trying to find a way to know that handsome stranger’s name. Then, a flash of brightness arrives.

“D’ya have a yearbook, bro ? Somewhere where all the Delta Omega Gamma bros are listed with their photos ?

- Well, at the end of each year, we do a yearbook, so I can only lend you the one of last year, bro… Not that it’ll change anything, the pledges aren’t here.” He answers, with a bit of malice in his voice. He’s clearly playing with me.

- ‘Kay, thanks bruh.”

I go to the couch and open the yearbook. There are tons of group photos, with the number of attendees varying from photo to photo – I bet there’s some Gamma Alpha Tau folks in some of them, now that the truth has been revealed.

But when I reach the end, there are photos of every member of the frat, along with their name and occupation. I see a bunch of familiar faces, but try as I might, I don’t see the handsome stranger inside.

I put the book away and think in the fog that envelops my mind, but after a while, I finally have another flash of brightness.

“It’s Brandon, is it not ?” I think aloud, seeing Jason grinning in the background.

Jonny Get Your Gun

While thrift shopping Jon stumbles upon an old helmet from which he will not walk away the same. Sub to dom army masculinization!

Been a while since I’ve written a military TF and after somehow getting Over There stuck in my head this happened! Hope you enjoy! -Occam

Jon and Troy were at the thrift store looking for something cute to wear to a friend’s party this weekend. The couple certainly have established wardrobes to choose from but are looking for something new, something flashy. They’re looking for something that’s just calling out to them. Never wanting to spin their wheels in place they want something to mix it up. Lo and behold as Jon makes his way to the back of the store does he find a hat doing just that, or rather a helmet.

Almost out of place on a dust-covered in the back of the store, rack Jon’s interest is immediately piqued by the army helmet. Nearing it his mind shuffles through thoughts, each one drawing him closer and compelling him to just go ahead and try the helmet on. Camo is chic right now, surely this would be just the kind of quirky experimental look they’re going for. At the very least Jon can’t help but grin at what Troy’s reaction will be when he sees Jon do a little campy salute wearing it.

With a slightly scheming grin Jon’s hands grasp at the helm, ignoring the pleasant warmth as it sits in his fingers as he hoists it onto his head. Heavier than he thought it would be, he thinks before everything around him goes silent. For but a moment he is alone with his thoughts, he hasn’t even enough time to notice that his priorities have immediately realigned before the buzz of the outside world returns. Jon shakes his head presuming that to have been his ears popping as he returns to his business, only briefly struggling to recall what that business was.

He would almost forget the helmet was on his head were it not for the soothing comfort it offers. Scratching his thin chest as he pushes it lower on his head before seeing his boyfriend and lighting up. Jon quickly aways to meet his Troy standing at a rack of tacky clothing that he for some reason he can’t bring himself to care about. He almost laughs as he sees his boyfriend pull out a technicolor blouse, presuming it to be some kind of joke. Forgetting his own plan of using the helmet as a joke he greets his love.

“Troyyy, surely you’re not wearing that yeah?” His boyfriend turns and holds up the certainly eye-catching silk blouse with a sarcastic scoff, “Ugh! I thought it was cute!” He does a brief pose with it and Jon laughs transparently judgmentally. Jon holds for some witty remark on the garment that should well have spilled forth from his ever-clever boyfriend, but none arrives after his boyfriend laughs louder than usual. He rolls his eyes and then looks to his boyfriend shocked that he’s missed something so dreadful on his head.

“Oh you’re one to talk G.I. Jon.” He half smirks as he pokes fun, assuming this is what his boyfriend intended walking up dressed like they’re at some surplus store. For his part Jon looks briefly confused before feeling at his head and remembering his new accessory. He laughs harshly once more, Troy flinches at the volume and looks around hoping no one is disturbed by his boyfriend acting uncharacteristically boorish. “Hey keep it down babe!” Jon swiftly obeys, holding a finger to his mouth only slightly mockingly before forcing a hand onto his boyfriend’s head and ruffling his hair.

Troy jumps back and rapidly sets to righting his pristine hair with a click of his tongue before returning the blouse to the rack, “Surprised you even but that on babe. Surely your hair looks like a nest now under that bowl.” Jon thinks about that for a second, sure that his boyfriend is right, that he should care about how messy his hair would be. After a second he is reminded of just how right the helmet feels and he knows he doesn’t mind whatever after effects there could possibly be. He begins scheming for a way to walk out of here with the helmet as it seems his boyfriend doesn’t seem to appreciate it nearly as much as he does. But Jon needs to have it.

They spend about half an hour longer browsing the aisles, Troy picks out a few things every so often turning to his boyfriend for his takes which come slower and less tactful at each turn. Jon’s mind swims as he feels this should be more enjoyable than it currently is. He briefly looks at some clothes for himself but with each passing minute the idea of him experimenting with clothes feels increasingly alien. Eventually he pulls out his phone and just trails behind his boyfriend, scrolling for any stimulation as he finds the idea of clothes shopping suddenly not only rote but impossibly boring. 

He groans loudly as Troy turns down another rack and his boyfriend turns in absolute shock to find Jon’s face plastered with genuine irritation. “Is everything alright Jon?” Seeing a look of concern on his boyfriend’s face Jon quickly struggles to hide his sour mood, pushing the hat down once more as he apologizes, “Uhh yeah of course, sorry I just read something, uh, on twitter.” Troy, grimaces at the phoned in lie and resolves to hurry up, “Sure sure, we can head out soon. I’ll grab this anddd you can put that helmet back and then we’re gone.”

Jon stands still in shock and Troy’s brows rise at the idea his boyfriend actually intended to keep wearing that stupid looking tin can. The idea is so bizarre to him he doesn’t even know how to respond, in the moment he just does an awkward smile and speaks through his teeth, “Oh, did you um. Want that? helmet?” Jon’s eyes race as he too struggles to find the words racing through his mind, overwhelmed by a level of desire he’s never even neared feeling before the army gear graced his head. Almost like hunger or the need to breathe is the desire for the helmet, his helmet, to stay where it belongs.

Seeing something strange painted on his boyfriend’s face Troy sighs and turns to walk to the counter, “If it’s more than thirty bucks we’re leaving it.” Jon’s heart thrums with excitement as he follows behind his boyfriend. For a brief moment that pings as uncomfortable for the man, surely he should be the one in front right? He shakes it off just as quick as they arrive at the counter, scratching at his hair underneath the helm, unaware as his lengthy curls almost seem shorter underneath, thicker and rigid as it pokes his hand and the helmet.

The cashier quickly rings up Troy’s pile of purchases before turning to see what Jon has brought, seeing the helmet on his head, “Oh, did you want to buy that as well?” Jon wordlessly nods with excitement that the cashier couldn’t miss, he continues, “Pshh, y’know what? That was going to be trash tomorrow so I don’t really mind just letting you have it.” Seeing the needy grin grow into a confident smirk on Jon’s face the cashier’s heart almost flutters as he concludes he made the right choice there. Despite knowing the two are definitely boyfriend’s he can’t help but flirt with Jon, “Consider it kismet, looks good on you.” with a wink. Troy scowls and the cashier quickly apologizes profusely before the two quickly usher themselves out the door.

Troy holds his tongue as they make their way to the car, less than thrilled that the helmet is coming with them. Even less thrilled at the fact that Jon’s gait is clearly shifting after being flirted with, in a manner Troy is quite familiar with. Not usually the jealous type, Troy easily pushes that down but remains on edge as he sees Jon maneuver to the driver side of the car. Holding the keys he honks the car to remind his boyfriend he’s the one driving. Jon scoffs and rolls his eyes before sauntering to the passenger side, deliberating adjusting his crotch as he does so. Troy narrows his eyes and lets loose his held tongue, “Are you just hungry or what Jon!? Can you chill?” Moving his hand from his package Jon raises his arms defensively but before he can answer his stomach indeed growls and he laughs. Taking this as confirmation that his boyfriend’s odd state is just some form of hanger Troy hops in the driver’s seat and starts the car.

Jon can’t help but grimace getting into the passenger’s seat, he knows this is his boyfriend’s car and that he doesn’t even like driving. But something just feels emasculating about this current situation. Try as he might, it's just bothering him, like a buzz in the back of his mind that something is wrong. Agreeing with Troy’s appraisal that he must just be ravished he reclines his chair as far back as it goes and shifts the helmet to cover his face. He can’t even hear as Troy chides him for doing so while driving, nor the playful judgment at how that helmet must stink. Instead he relishes the familiarity in its scent.

Eyes on the road Troy can’t see how Jon’s hair has changed in a manner totally unexpected. Rather than disheveling the long wavy curls as should have happened, his hair has completely changed to a look he would never be caught dead in, not quite a buzz or high and tight; his boyfriend is now sporting something jarringly jockish. Not only that but as he takes deep seemingly sleepish breaths of his helmet his chest rises higher, stretches wider than ever before, the hem of his shirt inching higher and exposing a waist not quite as thin as either man would have expected. Hearing snoring Troy steals a glance of the midriff exposed and blushes as he sees not only the barest hint of a treasure trail rising above the waist but that his bulge has returned with a vengeance, pulsing as whatever swift dream Jon has found is clearly more than a little alluring.

Under the helmet Jon isn’t quite asleep, as soon as the helmet covered his face he found himself obsessed with the scent that now bathes him. Something deep, musky, and impossibly familiar. Not quite the locker rooms of his youth, nor the sweaty bacchanals of pride events today. No it is something he knows he has never smelled before but with each breath the sweaty metallic scent imbues the not-quite memories with more reality. It’s at the edge of his mind, the edge of his tongue. He opens his mouth and looses his tongue into the humid breathy air underneath the helm and a memory that never was sears itself into his mind. Lifting weights with men clearly performatively masc, bodies stained with patriotic tattoos, grunts filling the air. Long dark nights in barracks, sweaty bodies grinding silently against each other in bunks.

Half-dreaming of a reality he never experienced and yet knows intimately his true body finds itself awkwardly catching in between his reclined seat and its seatbelt. He shifts as muscle groups never trained strain to grow. His ass hardens as in his mind he can’t help but picture grinding against other men in his cohort and his body responds in kind. Pushing against his seatbelt as it holds him tighter, his cock staining the jock-strap he threw on this morning with pre as his cock grows to push it further than it ever has before. Hearing the concerning sounds of fabric stretching and eventually a deep breathy moan Troy blushes and calls his boyfriend’s name, “Jon?”

Immediately cogent, the flashbacks of a life he hasn’t lived cease and Jon rockets up in his chair, slamming into his taut seatbelt, shooting his helmet into the windshield. “Fuck!” Going flying it thankfully bounces off safely before landing in Troy’s lap as he squints in irritation at his boyfriend. Without pause he stretches and yawns like a foghorn, his hands bumping against the low roof of Troy’s car as they rise higher than his thin arms should allow, “Yeah I could eat. You gonna cook?” Troy tilts his head at the question, both of them obviously knowing that Jon is the cook between the two. 

He pauses for a few seconds waiting for his boyfriend to address this in any form. Saying he doesn’t want to cook, that it’s a joke, anything at all. But after realizing how matter-of-fact Jon was Troy realizes that something is up. Biding his time he goes with something less than confrontational, “Did you want to grab something to eat?” Jon looks over at him in excitement, eyes flitting between his boyfriend and the hat in his lap, “Oooh Yeah! Fuck I’m craving some burgers babe!” 

Troy almost swerves as Jon says this, his boyfriend has been a vegetarian as long as the pair have dated, before even. He again waits for Jon to state this is an odd joke that simply hasn’t landed but the seconds slowly pass and judging by the dumb almost drooling expression on boyfriend’s face it’s clear that Jon is being nothing but genuine. Still driving he glances over to inspect his boyfriend closer and finally begins to pick away at his appearance. He balks at the bizarre haircut, sure that Jon did not have it this morning, nor could he picture a world where he boyfriend would deign to get it as it inches even shorter still. Trailing down to look at his body he sees the seatbelt straining to hold him down, he hears Jon grumble as it almost seems to cut in even tighter. Suddenly muscle that has never graced the chest of his boyfriend begins to rise underneath the belt.

Acting first out of concern Troy asks him, “Babe, I think your seatbelt is a little tight?” Jon guffaws in response, agreeing before undoing it and letting it slam into the window, “huhu you’re so right babe! So are we gonna stop at Micky D’s or what?” Seeing his boyfriend scratch at his pubes and refraining from returning his seatbelt Troy, ever a superstitious type, begins to suspect something sinister and otherworldly occuring and the root of it is more than clear. Clenching his own jaw as he sees Jon’s dumb smile above a jawline not nearly as petite as it should be, he rolls down his own window and prepares for the only recourse he can think of. 

When Jon checks his phone looking for the nearest fast food restaurant, Troy acts. Grabbing the helmet and launching it out the window. Unbuckled Jon drops his phone and launches himself onto his boyfriend, “What the fuck!” The helmet shoots back and crashes against the highway as Troy swerves with the weight of his boyfriend on his lap, heavier than Troy knows him to be. He ignores the harsh litany of swears being shot at him as Jon ambles back to his own seat and stares at the highway behind them. Each insult in his diatribe at Troy sounds crueler than the one before it, darker and almost deeper before he turns back and sulks in his chair. Arms clenched as anger begins to seep into every muscle in his form.

“Can you put your seatbelt back on?” Jon scoffs and ignores him, “Why did you do that?” Troy puffs his cheeks as he tries to think of a reasonable explanation for his actions, knowing that his boyfriend is generally against his superstitions, and certainly not knowing just how consumed his boyfriend had been by the helmet now dented in the dirt behind them. Eyes hidden by a brow higher and deeper than the pretty boy's face should have. Jon barely listens to his boyfriend’s justifications, finding absolutely nothing of note to justify such wanton destruction of something so meaningful, so tantamount to his own being. Troy continues to try and offer meaning, unaware that the damage has already been done in more ways than one.

The rest of the ride home is silent and brief. The boyfriends opt to fend for themselves for dinner. Hiding away from ire he simply can’t bring himself to understand, Troy goes to make himself a sandwich later that night and finds the kitchen in absolute shambles. The floor is littered with packaging from every piece of junk the two men had in the house, he balks as he tries to imagine his usually meek and pompous chef of a boyfriend stomaching the mess that lies at his feet. Almost a dozen egg shells lie tossed into the sink alongside tofacon that was clearly spit out and discarded after a single bite. 

Troy puts off his dinner to clean the mess made by his boyfriend. He knows it’s unlike Jon to leave a mess like this, or, he racks his brain to remember just how neat his boyfriend is supposed to be and struggles to really come to a conclusion. Soon enough he is completely overcome with a headache, one that grows with intensity as he tries to remember aspects of Jon. Though usually the human mind is skilled at holding contradictions Troy is struck with a migraine as two paradoxical images of his boyfriend come to mind.

The former the one he swears to be true. He remembers him at university, always going out of his way to speak up in class. Eager to go above and beyond. Showy but never too ostentatious. Anyone would describe him as kind and caring. Nothing like the man who jumped on top of him while he was driving. The Jon he knows would never go this long without checking in, especially after they had such a spat as they did. Nor would he leave half eaten tofu on the counter. Ugh but such is the sticking point, would he? He certainly has now. Troy scours his memory once more for another instance of indecency. His mind latches onto something, it is just like when they first moved in together! Right after Jonny finished his tour. What? Troy clenches at his head as it feels like a metaphysical ice pick just stabbed into his mind.

He screams and even more distress arrives after Jonny doesn’t even come to check on him. Troy hasn’t the prescience to care all too much at the moment as he feels but seconds away from passing out altogether. He barely gets up to his feet before stumbling down the hall to their bedroom. The room is filled with a musk that Troy doesn’t even have the prescience to notice. Seeing the man on his bed his vision blurs as the massive body is juxtaposed in his memory. Arms that hadn’t enough muscle to lift a cinder block fade before the powerful biceps in front of him. He moans as aftershocks of his migraine arrive before he collapses onto the bed, unconsciousness swiftly arriving as he feels the massive arms immediately encompass him.

He awakens completely entrapped in biceps that are larger than his own legs. Jonny’s new arms hold him tight to his sweat covered chest as Troy struggles to even have mobility to take a deep breath. “J- Jonny!” He chokes out before squirming around in Jonny’s iron grip, finding it easier than it should be as his torso is slicked by the inhuman amount of sweat drenching him. Troy tries to push off foolishly as his hands find no purchase. Changing strategies he instead slips out underneath as Jonny starts to stir, his face coming awfully close to a soaking wet package far larger than it should be. He sees tattoos stained across his boyfriend’s body. Ones that he wouldn’t in a thousand years imagine his boyfriend getting. Though as he does indeed imagine he finds he clearly remembers Jonny telling him about his plans to get each and every one.

Jonny awakens with a loud yawn, stretching as his whole form lengthens to its final height. Legs truly as thick as tree trucks hang off his bed while his arms raise high above their headboard before moving elsewhere to scratch the dense bushes in his pits and pubes. Troy pointedly looks away from the morning wood bobbing in the air between them as he desperately awaits for some sense of normalcy to return to his life. Finishing his morning ritual of feeling himself up and scratching at every itch that arises Jonny speaks up, his voice a harsh and raspy baritone that forces all, especially Troy, to pay attention, “Mornin’ babe. Yo can you make me some food while I get a morning pump on?” 

Troy is torn between nodding enthusiastically and fleeing for help, causing him to stand motionlessly in place. His mind is made up as Jonny stands suddenly a foot taller than him and reaches to pull him close once more, forcing his head into his sweaty pecs, inches from the forest of already musty pit hair. Troy struggles not to sharply inhale as Jonny grabs his hair and forces him to make eye contact, he smirks before releasing his boyfriend and heading off to their office, slapping him on the ass before beginning whatever work he sees fit.

This has never been their morning routine but Troy sets out like it is the only reason for his existence. He finds a fridge beyond stocked with everything such a massive trooper could desire. Swiftly preparing a meat filled breakfast Troy has barely any time to himself to even begin to question what has gone on, and when he does so his paranoia and discomfort is replaced with a desire to do nothing but obey his boyfriend. After all, is it not his place to please him? He is the man of their house. This is how it has always been.

Troy loads up a large plate to bring directly to his boyfriend, only pausing to tidy up his own appearance. He pulls an apron, one once monogrammed with a J, tight to highlight his slight curves as he knocks on their office door. He is washed with a rush of musk and sweat as if he were walking into a rainforest. Where there were once desks and bookshelves there are reams of free weights and other gym equipment, Troy’s head twitches before he has no problem at all, the room obviously is as it always has been. As it always will be, he blushes as he sees Jonny hard at work, his arms already far larger than when he woke up to them around his waist this morning.

He feels his cock stir as he sees Jonny’s pulse with every lift of the weight. The army green of his clothing highlighting every bulging muscle as he continues to exercise it towards perfection. Troy bites his lip as he imagines the things that could be done with that cock, memories of himself topping swiftly erasing as Jonny is so obviously the top it would require a rewrite of reality for it to not be the case. Hanging on the wall is an old helmet that Troy would have sworn he threw against the pavement at 60 miles per hour. His psyche immediately chastises him for the thought, how could he have done that! He knows how much Jonny loves that helmet!

Troy quickly goes to leave the food on a bench out of use before retreating from the room, not waiting for his boyfriend to say thanks. He skips making his own breakfast to instead tidy the kitchen and their living room, somehow already soiled with dirty laundry. He smells his boyfriend coming before he sees him, a trail of post-workout sweat steaming off in his wake as he goes to sit on the couch. Immediately staining it before discarding clothes onto the only recently tidied floor. He turns on the television before patting on his meaty thigh.

His boyfriend, knowing what this means, immediately rushes over to make his acquaintance. Doe eyes inspecting every bulging muscle and pulsing vein across his body. Jonny’s cock clearly begs for post-workout release as the two sit on the couch together. Troy gets to the floor and begins to pull at his boyfriend’s underwear when he hears the massive man click his tongue, “You know babe I’ve been thinking.” Already on the floor Troy waits patiently, his face inches away from the throbbing cock, “You ever wanted to enlist?”

Images of powerful army bodies dance through Troy’s mind. His small figure out of place among them certainly, but with each passing day he could fit in more. Be more. He imagines himself becoming far more than he is, running drills, pumping iron, commanding lesser men. The idea sends butterflies in his stomach as he pictures himself finally being on top, alongside Jonny. It’s barely enough for him to bear as whimpers on the floor in front of his boyfriend. Jonny just smirks and reclines, “Gotta start somewhere.” planning to go grab his favorite helmet off the wall as soon as the pair are done here. There’s always room for more men in the corps, and wouldn’t it be nice to get head from someone else who's fucking huge.

I can't remember what made me follow you, but I am really glad I did ! I especially love your musk related story, BO is such a turn on for me, I'm into stinky men and you describe them so well...

Thanks, bro. I love imagining guys getting sweaty and stinky, dripping musky sweat and leaving smelly sweatprints on everything they touch. Sucking on their cheesy cocks and musky toes…

Dude, when was the last time you showered? The last time it rained? It’s been weeks! And every day, you spend hours sweating in the gym and hiking in the summer heat. No wonder I can smell you the moment you come in the door, considering how much you sweat just sitting down.

Not that it’s a bad thing. Show off those hairy armpits for me, bro. Mmm, smells so tangy and good. Give yourself a good sniff. You can just feel the musky stench dissolving what remains of your brain. Take off those sweat-stained socks and let me lick those big bro feet.

Bro.

BRO!

Bro…

Huhuhu, bruh, you, like, totally came in your boxer briefs, just from sniffing your musky bod! We should, huhu, go and find some lame nerds you can dumb down and musk up with your greasy unwashed musclebod. Like the bros reading this! See that, bros? You can smell my bro’s musky feet right through the computer screen, huhuhu. Let the stench get you all musky and dumb, just like us. Then we can all get even sweatier together, bros!

If this got you horny, consider putting some spare change in my Ko-fi cup so I can write even more hot stories.

Drip.

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

Drip

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip. Drip. Drip….

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

Drip.

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

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

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

Drip.

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

Drip. Drip.

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

Drip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Drip.

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

He didn't care.

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

Drip.

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

The taste was incredible.

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

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

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

Drip.

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

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Drip.

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

Master

It had only been a week since the last time I had seen him, so why is my normally scrawny dorm mate and best bro standing in front of me… changed?

Rufus had always been an… interesting kind of guy. Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s just… he’s always been a little different from the rest of us bros. Can’t hate him though, known that guy since Elementary School. He’s a brother to me. He’s always been shy, quieter than the other bros in our group so was no surprise to me when he came out as gay. Of course I had no problem with it, just cause I’m a straight jock doesn’t mean i’m an asshole! Anyways, it didn’t change anything between us and we respected each other’s boundaries since he was my best friend. But the dude in front of me right now, that’s not my bro.

“Dudeeee Spring Break was so sick! It was totally life changing man, when I went on that trip with my fam I found this little plant and dude ever since I touched it I just feel brand new, you feel?” Rufus rambled on, saying this as he relaxed back against the dorm wall, revealing his bushy pits.

Instantly this smell hit my nose, catching me by surprise. Usually Rufus was this clean freak who made sure he smelled like roses and babies and shit, even making sure I washed up properly. He hated stink! “Rufus-“

“Nahhh man just call me Roof, that names sooo uptight!” he briefly interrupted.

“Alright Roof…” I paused, adjusting to the name, “I mean you do look brand new, and you’re acting well brand new too? Haven’t you seen yourself?”

A confused look spread across his face, “Aw thanks bro! I’m happy you finally brought up the ‘stache — I’ve been growin’ it out! And I think maybe I’m just more chill cuz of spring break, still pretty relaxed now y’know?”

Now I was the one confused. “Bro do you really not notice anything different about yourself?”

My best friend seemed concerned for me now, “You trippin’ bro? I mean I’m the same old Roof as always?”

This was driving me nuts. One, my best friend, who is normally a scrawny, nerdy guy looks like if you took him and turned him into huge dumb muscular oaf. Two, he stinks, which Rufus never does. And three, he doesn’t notice anything different?”

“Hey man,” The man who says he’s Rufus but ISN’T Rufus slowly said, “You seem a little stressed. Maybe you just gotta chill out, like me…” I looked up a smile slowly start to creep across his dumb face and suddenly, the entire room felt… damp.

In the sense of both wet and humid… and also kind of heavy. Almost like… my brain was slowing down… growing kinda tired… it was so hot in here… and it smells so bad… so fucking stinky. Pushing through this… trying to open up… window…

As I sluggishly made my way over to the dorm room window and reached to open it, Roof spoke commandingly, “Nah man leave it closed.”

I stopped in my tracks. My body wasn’t moving anymore. I was frozen. A wave of panic and anxiety washed over me, what the hell was going on??

I was able to move my eyes, glancing over to Roof as terror filled my mind. “Don’t worry, you’re okay bro. Just come on over here” he beckoned with his a motion of his hand.

Suddenly all the worry in my mind vanished and I felt perfectly fine, other than the odor in the room. I held in my breath as I made my way over to Roof the smell becoming more and more pungent as I drew closer. I stopped in front of him, looking him in the eye I noticed there was an aura of confidence in them I didn’t recognize.

“You don’t like the smell bro? C’mon just try it. Breathe in it for a second,” Roof urged, scratching his wiry pit hair, causing more odor to escape from the bush.

My tensed muscle instantly relaxed, following his suggestion. I closed my eyes and began to breathe in the putrid odor his body was emanating. It smelled like cheese, eggs, sweat, farts, and protein — everything the locker room does after a long practice. Weirdly enough, I could pick up on some hidden notes, a taste of spice and the tropics. Even weirder, I started to like it. I could feel sweat drip from my brow, the room getting much stuffier and hotter. I began to take in deeper breaths, the mix of Roof’s stink and oxygen clouding my mind as I tried to keep myself from passing out.

“That’s it bro… keep breathing it in. Keep breathing me in.”

I opened my eyes to find my body had slumped to the ground, muscles weak and on my knees in front of Roof. The weight of the air around us kept me on the ground, I could barely muster the strength to get up or even move. He was looking down at me with a face full of pride and a sense of dominance. I felt… content.

He ripped off his sweat soaked wifebeater, tearing through it easily with his muscles. Tossing the shreds ti the side, he began to flex his bicep right above my face and suddenly another wave of must hit me. This time however it was stronger, even more mind-fucking, like inhaling him straight from the source. Droplets of his salty sweat began to fall on my face, one by one, and all feelings of disgust went out the window. Without command, I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and stuck my tongue out to catch them. I heard Roof let out a dumb chuckle from above as he watched with content. I could feel my dick hardening in my shorts. I didn’t care. I didn’t care how gay this was, how stupid and weak I look on my knees, all I cared about was this.

As the foreign liquid fell into my mouth, my eyes shot open with disgust. The taste was sweet, putrid, salty, like spoiled juice left in a dumpster out in the rain and yet so addicting. The couple droplets I had tasted acted as an energy shot as I jumped up off my knees and brought my tongue straight into his hairy armpits. Grabbing his onto his flexed bicep for support, I raked my tongue across the bushy coils and wet skin, taking in every rancid flavor and droplet. Taking a deep breath in of his stink, the smell was heavenly now. I couldn’t live without it. A warm feeling began to fill my stomach as I lapped up more of his sweat while my mind became completely fogged as I huffed his musk. I could feel my rock hard boner was straining against my shorts, begging to be let go.

“Good boy,” Roof whispered into my ear. Almost like a trigger word for some sleeper agent, I slumped back onto my knees as my mind went blank and my eyes glossed over.

It was some dream state. Indescribable. Pure bliss. I couldn’t hear or see anything, just blurbs and slight movements. I picked up on bits of what Roof was saying. I could hear him pacing around me in the small dorm room. “Finally … waited all these years … in love with you … but you … straight … can’t handle … anymore … now you’re mine.”

With those final words my eyes fluttered open. I was on my knees on the floor of my dorm room. I looked up and there he was. Master was standing in front of me.

“Who’s a good boy?” He smirked as he began pulling his sweatpants down — he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

His pubes created a blanket of dark grass from which his cock sprouted from and balls hung. I stared at it intently, like a dog eyeing a meat stick hungrily. It was thick and girthy, like an uncut sausage hanging downwards and from the scent I was picking up, I could tell I was going to find a treasure trove of cheese if I rolled back the skin. His balls were perfect, filled with my master’s seed. I had one purpose, please him.

I wrapped my lips around his manhood and began to go to town, bobbing my head up and down. I rolled back the skin to reveal his perfect head and I assumed correctly. I looked up at my Master with happiness as he smirked, placing his hands in my hair as he guided me down the shaft. I swirled my tongue as I went down, picking up all the cheesy goodness and tasting every flavor imaginable. With ease I made it down to his pubes, his 10 inches in my throat — Master trained me well. I sniffed his musky carpet before my master’s hands pushed me back to the tip of his cock. Rinse and repeat, each with a different level of feverish desire. Master bobbed me up and down his dick, using me as nothing more than a toy. I didn’t care. I loved it. I could feel his tangy pre-cum as it started to lubricate the inside of my mouth, preparing for the arrival of his seed. I rolled my eyes back from pure pleasure of his taste. Back - forth - back - forth, he continuously thrust into my mouth and down my throat, gripping my hair like handles. I felt nothing more than ecstasy when he treated me this way. Finally I could feel his cock twitch in my mouth, and he slowed his pace allowing me to catch my breath and regain some autonomy in the situation. I wrapped both my hands around his shaft, the girth akin to a coke can, and placed my lips on his tip and began to suck again. Almost as if beckoning the seed to spout from the hole, my master’s hot moans escaped his mouth, telling me I should go on. With one final pop, his seed exploded into my mouth, filling me with the highest honor of being his slave.

He continuously pumped into my mouth groaning loudly as he did so, it had to have been seven or eight times until he finally had run out. Similar to his sweat, I could feel this warm sensation as his seed slipped down my throat as I swallowed his load. Suddenly I felt my form begin to change. I jutted my ass backwards, feeling it expand and balloon with the perfect amount of muscle and fat to keep my Master satisfied. I flexed my thighs as they grew meatier while my hips widened to bear Master’s children. Sweat dripped between my cheeks and into my crack, tickling and stimulating my asshole, beginning what would soon be my life long yearning for cock to fill my hole. I was becoming perfectly sculpted to my Master’s desires, and I was so happy.

My head throbbed with pain as memories and intelligence, anything I knew about myself for the past 20 years of my life was dissolved into my balls. I could feel my erection becoming harder and harder and my balls churning until I blew my load, all over the dorm floor. Almost instantly after, the dick I once used to conquest women turned into a pathetic excuse for a manhood. The sensation in my body dissipated and my muscles relaxed, cementing my physique and rendering my dick at an almost unusable state. That’s okay, I won’t need it.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Bad boy… look at what you did to my floor.” I heard Master’s voice scolding me from above.

I hung my head low with embarrassment as I got on all fours and groveled at his smelly feet, “I’m so sorry Master, please forgive me.”

As I looked back up, I could see as Master Roof grabbed his cock and jerked it, and suddenly he was back at full mast. I licked my lips with both hunger and happiness, looks like he was in a good mood today.

He smirked when he saw the lust in my eyes, “Let’s see how many loads it’ll take to get you pregnant.”

Biker Breath

Zane was riding home from work on his bicycle when he passed a pile of stuff sitting on the curb with a sign attached saying “For Free”. Zane stopped to inspect what all was left out on the street and saw a super nice looking biker helmet, carefully picking it up he noticed some scratches and dings on the helmet but besides that it was still in perfect working condition. While he was examining it Zane noticed the rancid scent emanating out of the helmet. Holding his nose, Zane began to put the helmet back onto the curb when he heard a voice in his head that wasn’t his, it was a deeper, more masculine voice demanding him to put the helmet on. Wanting to resist, Zane set the helmet down and turned his back to it and the other stuff on the curb when the voice again demanded “Put on the helmet”, Zane was overcome with the need to put the helmet on. As he lifted the helmet up over his head Zane pleaded with the voice “Please…No…It reeks”. Feeling the voice command him to lower the helmet on his head, Zane’s mind and body obediently obeyed as he lost control of both. Upon lowering the helmet onto his head Zane could smell the reeking stench of the helmet. It reeked of sweat and B.O., the previous owner had obviously never even attempted to clean it.

Regaining consciousness and control of his body, Zane tried to take the helmet off, but quickly he heard the voice command “Breath in deep wimp” Zane once again obediently followed orders and took in a deep whiff of the helmet’s noxious stench. Zane would have normally been disgusted but he wasn’t, in fact he loved the rancid stench of sweat trapped in the helmet. Zane heard another command echo through his head, “Get on your puny bike loser”. Zane sat on his metal bicycle and began to pedal away. With every pedal, he bike became more akin to what a real man would ride. It slowly transformed into a fast and slick motorcycle.

Zane revved the bike instinctually and he felt his dick shoot to life at the same time, it was weird, Zane never was interested in motorcycles but his body was aching for more. Zane’s puny body was sitting atop a nice expensive motorcycle now but his body and face were still that of a wimpy nerd. That was soon to change, the voice started describing what a biker boy should be like. “Biker boys are unhygienic beasts who never wear deodorant, shower once a week, and never brush their teeth, all of that is for weak pussies” Zane could suddenly remember why the helmet smelled so bad, it was HIS stench that was infused into the helmet. Zane breathed in another deep whiff of the stink HE cultivated and let out a pleasurable sigh, breathing out a torrent of funky smelling breath, Zane added to the stench and made himself more loopy. Feeling his weak body get light and tingly Zane kept riding his newly minted motorcycle, he stopped at a red light and looked over at the car next to him, “Had I always had such big muscles?” Zane thought to himself as he saw his reflection in the car’s window. “No…can’t be I…” he took a breath in and inhaled more of his noxious B.O. and bad breath, “…I have always been this buff duhhh” Zane pulled off and sped home away from the stop light. Arriving home his brother was getting out of his car in the driveway, pulling up was surprised when he saw the man on the motorcycle, he looked like a stranger to him. “Hey man I think you got the wrong address” Zane’s brother told the now insanely ripped Zane, “Whatchu mean bro this my crashpad!” Zane said loudly. “Nah my brother lives here with me and my dad not you” Zanes brother remarked. Zane got off his bike and walked up to his little bro, “Heeeeeeeeeeey man chillax…no need to get your pantiessssss in a bunch” Zane drew out certain syllables on words so that he could breathe out his nasty breath that smelled like he had just eaten garlic, and fish, and hadn’t brushed his teeth in weeks. Zane’s brother’s eyes glazed over upon smelling his older brother’s stale and stinky breath, “Oh hey bro welcome home” Zane reached an arm around his brother’s shoulder and they walked to the house together. “Yeaaaaaaahhh you love your big bro’s stinking breath dont cha lil man” Zane laughed and purposely let out a blast of his funky breath into his brother’s face, “Yea…bro I- I love how…stinky…your breath i- is…I wish I was m-more like you”His brother said mindlessly as if in a trance. “Well in that case lil bro I wanna take you on a ride tonight okay? You can wear my helmet I jusssssst got it” Zane breathed out more of his rank breath while he spoke. “Yea…uhh like…totally bro…” His lil bro responded not knowing that the ride would seal his fate just how his brother’s was.

The Drifter

Every now and again, when things just weren’t going your way, a brisk hike through the woods always helped to clear your mind. The rustling leaves, chirping of birds, the gravel trail beneath your shoes... it just seemed to help all the troubles and struggles of the day melt away. Today, however, something was off. You parked your car in the North Lot, and being so eager to decompress you left the lights on. Two hours later, you return to a lemon. The battery was dead, and with no one else in the parking lot, your only option was to run to the South Lot where the ranger station was. Thus, you sighed in exhaustion as you turned around and stumbled the long three mile trek to the South Lot.

The park was massive, and only had one main road for cars to pass from the entrance to the two parking lots. The winding gravel road was not particularly well maintained, and you thought to yourself on more than one occasion that the designer of the park must have had some bad Acid when he had routed it. Hard right turns, steep hills and filled with potholes the size of bowling balls. This was hardly the way you’d have preferred to get to the South Lot, but it was the most direct route and had the potential of a passing motorist saving your afternoon. Yet, a mile and a quarter in, not only had no one passed by you, but the sun was beginning to set beyond the canopy above. Surely a park ranger would have seen your car and gone looking before closing the gates?

Regardless of how long you had been walking, in your mind, you’d gone fifty miles. Just as the tree stump tumbled over on the side of the road looked awfully nice to take a quick nap on, a faint red light in the distance caught your eye. Just around the bend, on the other side of the ridge was a black car, and it was running. Relief! What modicums of energy you could expend, you did as you booked it down the gravel road, nearly tripping over your own feet three times enroute. Finally, the sound of a running motor brought such reassurance as you came up on the car. It was an old muscle car, a 1969 Mustang, not that you knew it. All you knew and cared about was the assistance from whomever the driver was. Walking up to the drivers side window, you sigh and prepare to thank the driver...

Empty. The car was running, windows down, The Weeknd blaring on the radio. You looked around the surrounding area for the owner, met only with empty woods at dusk.

“Hello?!” You cried out, now worried that you had stumbled upon a crime scene or a trap. No response. You turned around to glance at the car again, only to see the drivers side door was now ajar. You knew that you hadn’t opened it. You knew that there was no one inside the car, and after a peek under the car you knew there was no one around. It was an old car, perhaps it just didn’t shut properly? Ignoring the implausibility of that thought, you took a seat on the drivers seat, and tried to think of a plan. The sun was setting, you’re sitting in an abandoned car in the middle of the woods, and you’re still miles away from the ranger.

“Get in...” an ethereal voice whispered out of the radio, superimposed over the uninterrupted music. You turned to the old radio, second guessing your senses, not even realizing you had brought your legs inside of the car. The door slowly shut behind you as you examined the radio. The stick shifted into drive, and the car began to lurch forward. Panic set in, it was a trap of some sort. Kidnapping? You were poor no one would pay... Human Trafficking? Maybe, but this was awfully elaborate for that. A prank? A TV prank show was not out of the realm of possibility...

“Relax...” the voice cooed over the radio again, it’s soothing and velvety tone was certainly comforting. The car drove slowly, winding down the road toward the rangers station and the South Lot. Bruno Mars was now serenading on the radio, music that you were rather indifferent to before and yet in that moment it felt as if you knew every word and every verse. You allowed the music to relax you, to let you breathe.

“Smoke...” You looked down at the ashtray, a still smoking blunt sat waiting next to a metal lighter. It felt second nature to you to bring the blunt to your mouth, the dampness of its previous owners lips could still be tasted as you inhaled your first toke. You blew rings of delicate smoke as if you’d been smoking since you were a teenager. The haze of weed washed over you and you sank back into the seat, enjoying the vibes of the music, the smoke, and the drive.

“Let me in... Take the wheel...” You did as instructed. It felt so right to just fall, to just be, to just be driven. Your hands touched the worn leather steering wheel, and a shock ran up through your fingertips all the way to your toes. Your hands grasped the wheel confidently, and shifted gears effortlessly. Surges of energy hit you in waves, each one slowly washing you into a clean slate. Those woes and worries that had brought you into the woods in the first place seemed so far away now. Just the thought of snipping that life away, beginning anew as someone else. No cares, no worries, just the wide world and open road to wander.

“Just drive...” the voice now echoed inside your head, entirely separate from the radio. Zayn now crooned his sultry tones over the speakers, your personal favorite. He reminded you a bit of who you wanted to be: laid back, unbothered, stoic, effortlessly cool... that attitude of ‘I don’t give a fuck’ just gets under your skin and takes control. In fact, you wanted it to. You wanted that attitude, that vibe, that life inside of you. And as it began to flow into you from your hands gripping the wheel, you welcomed the change.

It started with pinpricks, as if your arms had fallen asleep. Yet, as they moved independently of you, grabbing the blunt, taking a toke, shifting into 2nd... it became a different sensation entirely. It was as if water was flowing into you, the swishing and sloshing of liquid within you, flooding from your fingertips downward. Your palms grew sweaty and calloused, doubling in size as they continued driving the car. Little scars and knicks from bygone bar room scuffles adorned your knuckles, drifting free spirits aren’t always welcomed in roadside haunts- so you had learned to handle yourself early on.

Your forearms were growing as well, the viscous sensation flowed upward into your arms, large biceps began to expand your shirtsleeves until your grey shirt had ripped. Poke and stick tattoos sprawled up your tanning skin, an outlet for your creativity and frustrations when you are bored at your Midwest rest stops or refueling at the lonely desert gas stations. Thick tufts of hair sprouted from your pits as the liquid flowed into your broadening shoulders, the remains of your poor shirt falling in shreds around you. A subtle musk started to emanate from your pits, peppery and sharp... one of your favorite scents.

Your chest expanded, two pierced Nipples perked brightly on your glistening, sticky pecs; the droplets of sweat rolled down to your navel, lean abs popping up as they passed by. You feel your posture adjust as your ass rounded out, two firm globes had you spreading your growing legs wide and leaning back into the worn leather seats.

One hand on the wheel, you grab your swelling bulge. The constraints of your pants and underwear was mounting rapidly, and in just moments you’d unzipped your fly, and released your throbbing uncut 10 incher. You groped your balls, cupping them as the grew and dropped like two golf balls in a sac. Just the slightest touch of your coarse, calloused hand on the sensitive tip of your head gave you an involuntary gasp. Pre flowed out like a faucet slipping under your musky foreskin, making every movement and jolt of the car an incredible barrage of ecstasy.

Your thighs ballooned out, and your calves hardened after years of hard work doing short stints in mechanic shops across the country. A couple hours per week, just enough to fix up the car, and keep going to the next place. Your slick, ripe size 13 feet were never going to be tied down to any one place. The world was your playground. You love your freedom, you love your independence, you love yourself, and you’re ready to roam the roads carefree from now until infinity.

Your face was the last to adjust, your eyes turning into a bright minty green, with a healthy scruffy beard sprouting up from your eternally youthful skin. As the liquid flowed up your throat, your Adam’s apple protruded even further, as the pressure kept mounting. By the time it had rushed into your head, luscious blonde locks curled out of your scalp, and earrings popped out as a final cherry on top.

You turned around, grabbing your bag from the backseat, happy to put on your favorite jeans, cleanest tank top, and well worn and loved leather jacket. Your car pulled up to a halt at the ranger station just as you were pulling on your rank harness boots. Musk, weed, and leather smells poured from the open windows as the ranger walked up to the car.

“Hey there’s an abandoned car in the North Lot. Been there for a few hours.” Your velvety baritone voice instantly charmed the man, and combined with the wafting smells from your Mustang he replied,

“Uh... yeah, yeah. Thank you sir... I’ll take a... a... a look...” the ranger stared at the sexy drifter before him, his pants began to tent. You of course took notice, reaching out for a quick grope. He gasped and moaned at your confident grasp. With one single wink, a sticky spot quickly formed in his pants.

“Ay, hurry up and we can go take a drive, whaddya say?”

I enjoyed writing this. Commissioners, your pieces are coming.