Purgatory

I'm reposting some recent dumb-and-jocked stories but don't have all. Please also have a look at the archive compiled by @imsrtman!

It’s such a shame you don’t have a whole part for dumb&jocked! He left tumblr I think and I can’t find his stories anywhere

You can find most of the stories on this site. As for the missing parts, you may find them on my blog.

dumb-and-jocked-archive.blogspot.com

dumb-and-jocked archive

An archive of most of the content from dumb-and-jocked's Tumblr blog.

Modulated

--- Original author: realhankmccoy ---

“I ain’t no motherfuckin’ redneck, you assholes! Don’t you fucking get it? I’ll never be ok with you being here and disrespecting our gay spaces!” I had shrieked and screamed, and I was being sassy as fuck. But they had darted me, so it was too late for me already. I had been one of the hottest little twinks in Colombia back then. I had such a tight little body, I was non-binary, and I was supportive of my local drag scene. I was absolutely into resisting these fucking fascists and their goddamn bullshit lifestyles, which I couldn’t stand.

That’s how I thought of it all back then, anyhow.

Man, that dart though, it had done its dirty work. I was writhing on the floor of the club, so I didn’t even get to witness the way it transformed me as I went into spasms. It was almost like having a seizure, but I could feel the muscle growing on me, and I could hear my shrieks and wails shift in pitch as I grew on into this whole new, far more masculine body.

I was getting to be built like a brick shithouse really fucking fast, and was taking on more of a mature look. Everywhere I was getting more muscle. I was splitting the seams of my jeans, and my underwear, and felt my back pressing up and splitting my tight pink t-shirt.

When I finally was able to sit up, I was in a daze. I had rendered my clothes asunder. I had bristles of hair all over my face, and the har on my head had grown longer, too, sort of flopping in my eyes. I was a mess.

And then the headache came. I was clutching the sides of my head and moaning, almost screaming in pain out loud, as my twinkish mind collapsed and got replaced by a growing part of me I didn’t even know existed. That part, my friends, is the motherfucking, take-charge redneck stud I am today.

My friends helped me get out of there, and I was still in transition. It takes a good seventy-two hours at least until you can fully collapse one of those weak-ass brains like the one I had before and until a more dominant, superior personality takes over like the one I was starting to get.

So yeah, like I said, I was a mess, and when my friends got me back to one of their apartments, I was still sporadically ranting about how dare those fascists do this to me, they’d never win, this was fucking awful. But as I heard myself talk, there was a growing part of me that was observing myself and thinking “so what? You sound like a raving lunatic. Look at this body! Damn, boy, just look at that muscle!”

Sleeping on it, man, that twink brain of mine must have collapsed even further. I woke up and I just wanted coffee with a splash of alcohol in it, so that’s what I got. Then I added two splashed. I had already stripped out of my shredded pink t-shirt, and my friends had some loose boxers that fit me, but I was just this naked, muscular stud in awe of his own body and trying to come to terms with who I was now.

I was seeing my friends with new eyes, too. They seemed anxious to me, weak, full of nervous, overly feminine motions, jittery, immature, skittish and mostly just kind of fucking annoying. “Those are your friends,” I’d remind myself. “This isn’t you who’s thinking this.”

But that growing part of me was thinking “This is you. This is all you, stud. You’re so much better than them. They don’t even know you’re thinking this, and if they only knew, they’d probably be terrified.” That thought made me want to laugh out loud, so I did.

“What are you laughing at?” one of them asked.

“Oh, nothing man, nothing,” I said, looking away and scratching my head. “These are your friends,” I told myself again, but I didn’t really seem to believe what I was trying to tell myself that morning. “So what if they’re your fucking friends,” my new mind was saying. “They’re fucking losers, man. Don’t let them drag you down. You ought to just get out of here.”

That morning, I was feeling just hornier and altogether more fucked up than I’d ever been. I was thinking, nah, this can’t be the new me. I’m no motherfucking redneck. I don’t think like them. But already I was feeling excited, having this body, having these different feelings, realising that I didn’t feel like such an evil guy like this, not like I thought I would, anyhow. All I wanted to do at that point in time, I felt like, was get the hell away from these people. I didn’t know to where. I borrowed some shoes and a t-shirt that was so tight it hurt, pleading that I had to get back to my apartment. It felt like the shoes would split, and the shirt was riding up on my belly, as I trotted back to my place.

I didn’t know what I was doing or what I was gonna do. When I got home, I felt thirsty, just wanting to drink a little, feeling like that would make this feel better, even though I told myself no, you have to compose yourself, you have to call people, you have to report this. Just one drink, I thought. It turned into shot after shot, and before I knew it, I was drunk, hard in my boxers, having kicked off the shoes and thrown that tight-ass shirt on the ground as soon.

Then I was beating off, and cumming, and the build-up to that orgasm, man, it flooded my brain with some real redneck juice. I wasn’t thinking of the type of guys I usually did. I was thinking about redneck studs, studs like myself, feeling the drool run down my chin as I beat off. As I came, shooting way up on my pecs, rubbing it in with my hand, I was whispering to myself, almost like a confession that I had yet to voice to anyone, “You hot fucking redneck. Holy fuck, you love this, don’t you. You’re a redneck now. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.”

The desire to live for working out and fucking was already growing in me.

Thoughts were just racing through my head then. I knew I didn’t want to be some lame-ass yuppie or some weak-ass queer, man. I felt this powerful attraction to the redneck scene, the working class scene, the country scene, the military scene, the jock scene, you name it, any scene were men were men instead of the glitter fairy I had been before. I couldn’t quite pin it all down at that point yet, but my thoughts were sure racing.

Can you picture me, getting drunk in my apartment, turned on at my own body and swirling thoughts? And then I started to really know, man. I started to know. There was no going back now. The guy I used to be was a loser. I didn’t want to be him anymore. I was pissed off that I ever even was him.

I walked barefoot into the bedroom, checking out his stuff in the drawers and on the walls. Almost none of it would even fit me anymore. His feminine attire and the way his shithole apartment was decorated disgusted me. It made me want to punch the wall, even, so I did that and it felt good. I saw the paint crack and the drywall cave in. This new body had power.

I screamed then, a roar of pure rage and exhilaration. I punched the wall again, and it felt so fucking good that soon I was ripping all his shit off the walls and throwing it in a corner, ripping that flouncy shit off the mattress and I didn’t stop, screaming the whole while, until the bedroom at least look bare bones enough to resemble something a man would want to sleep in. I’d be damned if I ever let that loser back into this mind.

There were a few flashes, sure, and man was he a crybaby as he went out, as well as one hell of an angry little prick. Lots of hatred in his heart. I’d just laugh and say, “Fuck you!” sometimes out loud as I felt that twink brain collapse forever.

And now, as far as I’m concerned, he’s gone man. No longer a part of me, thank God.

I was nervous at first, when I started trying to hang out with guys I thought I’d have a lot more in common with that my old friends. Would they accept me? I was pretty desperate for acceptance at that point. I starting hanging out at a diner that I knew a lot of them liked to frequent, classic diner that pre-dated even the 1950s, a real antique. But these sexy ass guys would show up there, and soon we got to talking over waffles and hash browns.

Soon I was telling them I was darted, and they were saying that was hot as fuck, wanting to hear the story. Soon I was telling it to them, my legs in the air, sweat dripping down my bearded chin, as I was getting fucked.

Months after that, I was almost fully integrated into the lifestyle, man, and soon I was the one doing more of the fucking, especially after I got these sweet-ass tattoos all over my right arm. Getting fully into it, the desire to be that all I could be as man, hell, it ran in my veins now. I was going to let those commies know that I was better than them in every single way imaginable, and I wanted to show it off. I still get hard just at the thought of that, demonstrating my own superiority in the most tangible – well, to them, intangible, because I don’t want them even fucking touching me – methods available to me.

Yeah boys, it meant war for me, just like it had when I was a stupid twink, only this time I was playing for the other side, and it was chess instead of checkers.

Of course, there’s a lot more to life than just that for me, namely having hot-ass sex with all sorts of country studs and military men, hell, being part of that whole network of strong and powerful men who worship and respect other guys who’ve worked for it. I feel like I’m serving my country and being a paragon of virtue for it even when my legs are slung over some guy’s bull neck and thick, rounded deltoids as he plows the fuck out of me with his long-ass rod.

I had never gotten fucked this good when I was a twink.

I do real work with myself now, a man’s work. I dress like a man, I eat like a man, and I live my life like a man. I’m fucking proud of it, too. I love who I am now, and relocated to the other side of town, too, where the action’s hotter and I have way more in common with most folks.

I am sure glad I’m a buff stud with a thick-ass chest these days, and I don’t ever go clean-shaven. Been really into guy’s pits lately, and getting them to flex for me so I can lick those. Yeah, shit, I’ve gotta stop, because here I’ve got a raging boner just telling you all about that right now. I swear I’m way more horny than I used to be. At least seventy-five percent of the time now, I’d bet, I’m a top these days.

I don’t really like bottom boys, either. Their mere existence tends to piss me off, to be honest, so when I do fuck them I tend to be an aggressive power top. A lot of the time I don’t even think of it that way, though. I just think of them as so weak that the same rules don’t even apply to them. Different rules, in a way, because they’re a different kind of guy than me. Much more like women, unable to control themselves, you know how they are. I used to be one of them, and I’m so glad I’m not anymore, that’s for fucking sure.

A lot of the time I prefer to just fool around with guys such as myself. I love topping another top, having to wrestle somebody for hours in a strength and dominance competition. Gets the blood flowing. I like somebody who puts up a fight. C’mon, son, do you have any idea how fucking fun that is for me now? To meet up and hook up with another guy who’s just as manly as I am? That’s the stuff I live for now. I’m ready to just fuck my life away with hot ass guys at this point.

So, yeah, I’m a top who loves to wrestle with other tops and see who can dominate. I must be pretty good at it if I swear I’m scoring a seventy-five percent these days, but that’s just because occasionally I throw in some twink losers. Yeah bud, even some of these leftists get thrown a bone by me every now and again. They need us, and I like them to know they need us. They wouldn’t know what to do without us.

One of these days, I might even check with one of my army friends and see if I can come along on a mission so that I can dart one of them myself. I think I’d laugh my ass off when my dart goes in his neck or his shoulder, wherever it his him. Just to see the look on his face, shit boy. That could turn a guy on just by imagining it, so one of these days I’ll have to make it legit.

Fuck if I care about the loser I once used to be or what I’m supposed to be doing with my life. My life is better now and that’s all that matters to me.

Hot-ass guys, man. That’s what I live for.

He looked into mirror, starring intently at his reflection and said it, practically as a whisper “bro”

He shuddered violently, instantly experiencing such an intense wave of nausea he had to hold on to the sink to prevent himself from passing out.

He tried to catch his breath and looked back up at his reflection intently. Nothing seemed to have changed except for maybe his rigid posture and the determination in his eyes. Of course his body was going to resist. He was going against everything he was and thought he wanted to be for so long.

But that was about to change. His best friend went though it, the guy he had a crush on most of his life but dared not say it… now he was something completely different, something they used to despite. He felt a flicker of it inside him already, ready to grow. He gripped the sink harder this time and said it again… “bro”

It was easier and more obvious this time as he kept his eyes locked on his reflection. Same wave of nausea, but the body shiver was accompanied by something more, a new wave of golden color to his skin, a clearing of his complexion, dissolving of a layer of fat. He watched as he gained a few inches in height and waist rose to sink level. He already looked so much better. But he had to commit. No turning back now. “bro”

Less nausea more pleasure this time as everything about him became larger. The facial changes were even more dramatic compared to the subtle differences before- jawline, full lips, thin eyebrows and growing full curly head of hair. Noticing the changes was accompanied by a new rush and swell in confidence not just muscle. This wasn’t a feeling he was used to when seeing himself naked, but here he was hot and beautiful and the high just made his head numb with bliss and pleasure. This was it. He was becoming one. A “bro”

Now his voice sounded deeper. Still gripping the sink he see his arms flex and pump with new muscle. Everything about him screamed gym rat, jock, no- look at that ass swell- fuckboy. Yeah. That was more like it. His waist was well above the sink now, just hiding the monster member growing below. Fuck it felt good. The empty head made so much sense now with all the urges and hunger pumping through his veins. Hell yeah. No goin back. He wanted to flex, he wanted to lift, he wanted to fuck. But first. Looking into the mirror. Thirsting at everything he was becoming. He smirked and said… “bro”

A day at the beach

--- Originally posted by unknown on 2009-02-09 ---

--- Note: Kyogre (Pokémon) TF ---

The sun was setting in the sky as a lone man sat at the side of the beach. He stared into the water, the surface sparkling as the dying rays of the sun touched its surface. As he sat there, he had no idea of what was going to happen.

While he was deep in his thoughts, a lone creature was swimming underwater. It was heading towards the beach, slowly and silently.

Still looking at the beach, the boy checked the time on his watch, getting close to 6pm. "I think I should make my move..." He said to himself as he got up from the ground.

In that exact moment, the creature swam towards the surface, and jumped out of the water.

As the boy turned away, he felt the cold water splash against his body. "What was that?"

The creature landed on the beach, and raised its head to look at the human in front of it. The creature was a female Kyogre, a water legendary creature from a well known videogame. But unlike the game, she was more anthropomorphic looking, with strong muscled legs and arms, a more humanoid looking head, and, surprisingly, a pair of perfect sized cup-d breasts.

"Holy...." The human looked on at the creature in awe.

She stepped closer to him: Every step she took was a pure expression of elegance, and her skin shining in the sun was more than enough to qualify her as a true beauty.

He looked on at the creature, still in awe. "H..hello there"

She was now right in front of him. She was indeed taller than him. She smiled at the human, and put her hand on his face. The hand felt very cold. "What's your name little one?"

The human gulped. "Peter. And yours?"

"Alice...nice to meet you Pete" she said, as she shook hands with him.

He shook her hand, his human hand easily dwarfed by the size of her hands, large white digits holding it tightly. "That 's a nice name for someone like you"

She went down on her knee, so that she could look at him in the eyes. "You've never seen someone like me before, right?"

"Well, to be honest, no. I've only seen creatures like you in their more natural forms" Peter explained. "So seeing one like this is quite a surprise"

She smiled at him. "Mind if I sit down with you a for a while?"

"I wouldn't mind at all. In fact I'm honoured to be in the presence of someone like yourself" He smiled warmly to her

She sat down next to him. "Such a nice guy" she said, as she wrapped her left arm around him.

He blushed a little bit as he returned the gesture, wrapping his right arm around her. But due to the size of her, his hand was instead near one of her large breasts rather than her shoulder She didn't seem to mind.

She sighed, and started rubbing her hand on his back. Peter felt something weird happening as she did so...it felt like cold water running down his back. He squirmed a little as his back was rubbed, the females thick digits feeling soft and rubbery against his flesh

She kept doing so. He didn't notice that the skin on his back was slowly turning into a rubber-like skin, just like hers. Also, his shirt was vanishing, as if someone was pouring acid on it.

After a few seconds, he suddenly noticed that his shirt had almost disappeared, and he leapt up "What the heck?!"

"Hey, relax...I'm just making you more...comfortable" she said, as she stood up.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, still half shocked.

She put a hand on his chest, and the shirt completely vanished, while more of his skin turned rubbery...white on his chest, and blue on his back, just like Alice's.

"What 's wrong with my body?" He asked, feeling it

"I'm just giving you a more...interesting body" she said, as she stepped behind him, and wrapped her arms around him. "Think about it: Taller, stronger, cooler...everything you desire"

"Really?" He said as he relaxed into the morphs hug

She giggled. "Yeah...now relax" she said, while rubbing her hands on his legs, making his pants disappear, changing his skin more and more.

He relaxed a little, squirming again as he felt the cold wind blow against his now naked form

She kept massaging him. With his skin now fully transformed, new changes started to occur. His body started to get bigger, muscles swelling and giving him more strength.

He let out a few soft groans as his body enlarged, watching as his chest grew more defined, several rows of muscle bulging under the skin. "Woah..."

"Better, uh?" She asked, backing off a little so that he could examine his new muscled body.

"Oh yeah" He chuckled as he flexed his new muscles playfully

"A tail, hands and feet, and the head...and you'll be a perfect creature, just like me" she said, giggling.

Peter turned and smiled at the morph, noticing that the two were now eye level.

"Shall we continue?" she asked, stepping closer to him.

He just nodded eagerly as a response. She took his hands in hers. His hands quickly got bigger and larger, with massive fingers, probably good for swimming. She did the same with his feet, quickly turning them into massive swimming tools.

He looked on at them with a grin. "Let's be honest here for a moment. You aren't just giving this to me out of the blue, I know there's a hidden incentive"

She stepped behind him, and...she literally pulled a tail out of his tailbone. She admired the new tail for a little before answering him. "Yeah...I was wondering...if you could...you know...stay with me, once I'm done with...this?"

"Stay with you in what way" Peter smirked

"As...well...mates?" she asked, blushing a little.

"Mates?" He chuckled for a moment. "That can be arranged I guess..."

"Really? Really? Oh...thanks!" she said, as she jumped and hugged him.

He smiled and hugged her back, nuzzling her face softly

As they did so, he felt the final changes taking place. His face slowly pushed out, forming a small muzzle. His eyes growth a little bigger, and turned a deep blue. His ears growth longer and pointed, while his hairs fell off. It was almost a 100% morph.

"Grrrgg..." He gritted his teeth together as they elongated into sharp fangs

She gave him a quick kiss. "It's okay...it's almost over now"

He looked at her, blushing for a moment as he was kissed, and then returned the kiss"

As they kissed, his brain got a quick reorganisation...new instincts replacing the old ones, and a n immense knowledge being inserted in his memory. His body truly became his own in that moment.

He smiled a bit wider as he leant into the kiss, looking deep into her eyes. It was done...he was a Kyogre, just like her.

She broke the kiss, and stepped back. "So...wanna go swimming now?" she said, as she walked towards the water, looking more beautiful than ever.

"I don't think I could resist that" He grinned, rubbing a hand softly against her lower back

She giggled, and jumped straight into the water. She quickly dived underwater, and just floated near the bottom.

He dived in too, quickly catching up to the morph. "This is easier than it looks!" He grinned, putting his altered limbs to good use

"I gave you the body, and also the knowledge...you are a natural born swimmer now" she said, as she took him by the hand, and guided into the deep waters.

He just chuckled, looking at her whilst he was guided further into the sea After a while, they reached a small underwater cave close to the reef.

She sighed. "Welcome home"

"This is where you live? Looks cosy" Peter said

She swam inside the cave, and just lay down inside a giant Clam. "It's not the best thing you can find...but it's what I call home"

"Well I think it's kinda cute" He smiled to her

"And you know what's even better?" she said, smiling in a very seducing way.

"What's that?" He smirked

She pulled him inside the clam, and she hugged him very tight. "Take a guess"

Roommate Needed Six

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

After a few cold days to remind us it was October, the sun decided to come out one last time. It seemed that everyone on campus was making the most of the nice weather. Many were wearing shorts , probably for the last time and schoolwork was the last thing on everyone's mind. As I walked back from class, I noticed a group of five guys playing basketball at the public court. A muscular blonde with red and white shorts went for a long shot. The ball bounced of the rim towards the sidewalk and road. I stopped the ball from rolling into the street and picked up.

"Thanks man," said the blonde as he trotted towards me, sweat glistening down on his shirtless chest.

"Hey Luke," called one of his teammates. "Ask him if he wants to join in. Three on three."

"That's okay," I said as I offered him the ball. "I haven't played in years."

"You sure," said Luke as he grabbed the ball. He looked me straight in the eye and added, "I mean, it's such a nice day and all."

At that moment something stirred inside me. These guys seemed nice enough. None of my friends played any sports and I had always liked basketball in high school.

"What the heck," I answered, following Luke back to the court.

"All right! Thanks dude!" said one of the guys. "I'm Dave. You gonna go shirts or skins?"

"Shirts ... for now," I responded, feeling a little bit awkward. These guys were clearly gym buffs and I was far from it. Everyone on the team introduced themselves. I would be on the shirts team with Dave and Chris, against Joey, Luke, and Sean. We were evenly matched, except I was clearly the smallest guy.

The game began slowly, but as soon as I was given the ball, I felt a new sense of confidence in me. I dribbled past Sean and sunk a short jump shot. When I landed I felt stronger and faster.

"Nice shot," said Dave.

After a few more minutes of playing, I was starting to get into a groove, like I was in perfect form physically. Our team was beginning to pull ahead.

"Water break," said Joey.

The sweat had begun to run down my shirt, so I pulled it off. Underneath, I was surprised to see that I had no tan lines. I never went shirtless, so I was very pale, but today, I had a perfect tan. My body has also grown larger and thicker. My chest was thick with muscle and my abs were well defined. I used my shirt to wipe down the sweat.

"Alright, so how about you go over to skins, because we'd kill them otherwise. Just trade with Luke," said Dave.

"Cool by me, bro," I said, giving him a high five, surprised for three reasons. 1) I never used the word "bro" or gave high fives, 2) I hardly knew these people, and 3) I was completely relaxed being part of this team, like I had played with them for months.

We played for another hour, trading teams and just messing around. I had a couple nice dunks, since I was the tallest and biggest player. We gave each other high fives, fist bumps, and made crude jokes. By the end of the game, they had all taken to calling me Brett. Which as far as I could remember was my name. When we left the court to walk home, I had completely forgotten my life before basketball and these bros of mine.

Swimming Confidence

--- Originally posted by ZacharyEverlust@DA on 2014-12-01 ---

"Has anyone told you that you've got the looks of a Swimmer?"

No, of course not. If I had to be placed next to one, especially a confident swimmer who's capable of surviving Hoenn's large body of water, I'd probably look more of a Rich Boy who prefers to travel on expensive cruise ships than swimming across the ocean.

"No"

Almost instantaneously I selected No, while it's really flattering that the game codes designed me to get a hunky, lean-muscular avatar by default, I prefer staying true to myself .Possibly selecting something like an Ace trainer seeing as I've played Pokémon since I was seven, or even a ninja boy, I always liked samurai swords.

"Has anyone told you that you've got the looks of a Swimmer?"

Huh? Strange, didn't I just pressed "No"? Could've slipped and press the B button as usual, but shouldn't that stop the message from reappearing again? Must be some sort of glitch in Rustburo City.

"No"

Carefully selecting the correct option this time, with a push of the A-button, I'm surely to be given an option of choosing another trainer class am I right? Or at least allow me to leave this conversation, Pokémon centre, and go look for another NPC to choose a different trainer class for my avatar.

"Has anyone told you that you've got the looks of a Swimmer?"

Looks like I was right, I did press the "No" option, but it rejected my selection. I suspect something weird is going on, but I hope it's just something in the programming. Maybe I am required to press "Yes" before I'm given the option of selecting another trainer class, maybe they'll say something along the lines of "But don't you think you look like another trainer class?" And give me other options...or at least allow me to exit out of this conversation.

"Yes"

... ... ...

Nothing's happeni-

"Good, initiating Pixilation"

What? Pixilation huH? A morph of light shined brightly into my eyes, blinding me into total Flare Blitz. The Light spreads down my torso, into my knees....my feet and---.

The bright light totally engulfs me, shining brightly as it....Where am I? I noticed that I was transported to a different area than my room, not even sure how this was even possible in the 21st century.

There was sand all around me, beach chairs and umbrellas decorating the entire area. Probably a beach...no, it's definitely a beach, the one near Slateport city. Sailors and tubers hanging out in the distance with their respective trainer classes, remaining perfectly still or walking around out of the blue away from one another at given time-intervals as if they're programmed to do so.

I could clearly see a pixelated version of me in front of the blue ocean, looks like Brendan's not going to be the only player in Pokémon Omega Ruby...but if I'm not there controlling him, and if he's the only one that can be controlled on the DS. What's my role? Wait, why am I even thinking about being here, I got to get out of here.

I began to mo-crap, what's this? The light surrounded me once more, similar to the time back in my room. I doubt it's going to be broadcasted over the PokeNav...or the Nintendo DS screen, I don't know why but I'm feeling like I'm really insignificant all of a sudden, as though I'm just a member of a clique, a stereotype, a trainer class-

A trainer class....No...

The light began shifting, focusing more down than up as though it's coordinated to do so, yet still paralysing my entire body. It began to...grow? My feet, my legs, they're growing! I feel a surge of static coursing through my veins, electrocuting me like the water Pokémon I am? Water Pokémon? I didn't choose Mudkip so-

The static began to flow up my upper torso, with the strange light following its movements. I can feel as though my upper torso is developing as though testosterone is being pumped directly onto it. My pecs? I have pecs? My pecs kept inflating more and more like a qwilfish, filling up with pure muscle as it swells, and pushes out, showing it's might on my shirt.

Abs were probably no exception, though they're hidden underneath my shirt, I can feel my belly being pumped into nothingness, leaving only a solid definition. Legs, feet, arms and my neck were no exception as rage consumes them, blowing through puberty and into my mid-twenties, allowing them to be supplied with good, bulging muscle, not showing much though since I'm wearing thick clothing.

The electrifying, yet soothing sensation, as though it's massaging my developing body, continued to pulsate over my head. Remaining youthful, yet more matured and had this... glow to it, as though I'm enjoying life doing what I do, healthily and happily. The glow resonates as my skin slowly turns darker, brown? No, olive. A deep, dark olive resonates throughout my entire body, as though its pulling me through and---

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!

My brand new designer T-Shirt and jacket tore right open, unable to withstand the growing and developing muscles of my new structure. Ripping up my jeans and sneakers as every piece of clothing fades leaving only a pair of...boxers? No, swim shorts, black swim shorts with an indifferent blue stripes on the sides, similar to the ones of my peers...

"MENTAL TRAINER TYPE CODES, SWIMMER♂, PROCESSING COMPLETE"

Peers? Hitting the waves with others of my kind...Yes...I'm beginning to remember, I'm a Swimmer♂, a man who's risen up from a tuber, got buff, and now hangs out with my bros with my awesome water Pokémon, who needs boring old land Pokémon when you can get all the tentaCOOL you need at sea.

I feel so...free now...no clothes...no nothing....exposing my huge muscles as I get to hit the high wa-Muscles? Muscles? Hey! HEYYYYYYYY...check out my chizzled ABS! BOOM! I stood proudly in front of the clean ocean sea, my new reflection portraying my confident musculature.

Man, with this body, lean and shit, I could totally surf through the seas faster than a buisel! Whatever that is, we have wailmers in Hoenn Dude. Just looking at this rich, seawater just makes me...no...I can't resist it...

I gotta swim...I GOTTA SWIM! SPLASH!

I swam through the mighty ocean, past the small islands located side by side, were pretty familiar with them after me and the men had a swim off days ago...if I could remember. Men gotta stay tough when the female swimmers can easily match their endurance out at sea, don't try this at home unless you're a tuber kids.

Black messy hair shortening, trimming down to a hairstyle more suited for the waves, and a new colour to match with my bronzed skin tone. Turning short, dark brown and wavy, perfect to remain slick and cool while I surf through the blue lion. Eyes completing my new image, turning, deep and piercing like a sharpedo's crunch, as you know it, the same dark brown colour like my muddy hair. Awesome right? I'm cool and trendy just like the rest of the swimmers, it's as though we're coded that way.

Black material pixelating on my new stylish head, spreading, stretching, expanding by the seconds. Completely trapping my new sweet-ass hair underneath the new swimmers cap formatting to protect it from the ocean's splashy mysteries, kinda ironic since I'm protecting my hair from getting wet despite it being adapted for the waves, gotta stay in trend though.Final touches to my change began to take place, though I was always like this, wasn't I?

Black goggles popped right-by over my nose, covering my Seadra-shaped eyes with the lenses, allowing me to admire the sweet waterbed while still being able to swim on the surface. A half poke ball-like design imprinted on the swimmer's cap around my forehead area, light blue like a tentacool. My mouth being transformed into a confident grin, knowing that my swim skills are un-matched with water Pokémon by my side.

"PIXELATING COMPLETE, TIME TO STIMULATE PROGRAMME ORDERS"

I began to freeze for a sec...Striking a pose...and, turn around, swim, turn around, swim. The cycle repeats a new, what's going on? Am I being controlled?

"INITIATING, Swimmer♂Oliver"

Oliver? Oliver? That's my name? But my name is---, ugh, can't remember. No wait, it was always Oliver right? Crap, I don't know why but I think a machine is doing this. I don't much time surfing around Mauvile city though, no swimmer ever has, electric shocks are dangerous for our water Pokémon...so why do I feel as though I'm infected with one, and everydude's completely infected by one.

Pokeballs, one and two, appeared in the hidden compartment of my swim shorts, I reached for them, as though I'm prepared for battle with my tentacools, man I don't care what any ace trainer says about having two of the same Pokémon and type on your team, I love water Pokémon, they're what I battle with.

But Hey! At least I'm still human! And I've got an awesome bod to cruise through these gnarly waves man! I ain't going to lose to some stupid program--

"!"

Trainer spotted...crap...can't resist...must...gotta...

"I'm as cool as the waves go!"

Body to Brag

--- Originally posted by unknown before 2018-08-22 ---

So you want a body you can brag about, well since you been so nice and kind and you have helped me along this journey I can.

All I just need is you to put these on. Ohh, there to big for you.

I am sure you will grow into them.

You're feeling hot?

Why don't you just jump into the blue sea and cool off?

Wow, nice jump man.

Are you still feeling good? No? How?

All a sudden you feel great pain in the chest and feel great muscle grow, you feel six punches in your belly, you uncover a sweet six-pack.

You feel more muscle growth in your arms and legs, as you get stronger.

You feel that tension between your arms and your moans as they grow bigger and deeper.

Your legs get straight as all the muscle gets into a balance.

Heat goes to your face as you feel a rash and the more you started you felt a small beard form.

You soon feel you get longer and your nose straight and your eyes widened to show you beautiful eye color as it changes from green to black and soon that red hair becomes a beautiful brown shiny hair.

You begin to moan as your small ass gets bigger for fucking people with, your dick gets bigger and so do your balls, as you cum all over them.

You begin to moan, as your mind becomes clear and you're dumber, as it gets cleared with sexy guys.

Well if you are feeling good, you look good instead.

Well, get out of that water if you feeling good? No, why?

Who are you starting at? Him? Wow!

Why don't you get a piece of him?

You can brag to him about your body, but I think you're too dumb to understand me.

Well just go gets some ass because I think he is starting at you too and I think he needs help down there man.

And maybe after that, you can tell me the details.

Well, I don't think you need that Brian to brag, even though you can't because you're too dumb to understand me and you can just let your body do the work.

Oops sorry man I that I used too many words.

Don't stand around to get him.

Primal Instincts: Men are Dogs

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

Gwen could smell the cigarette smoke wafting from one of the apartment windows as she jogged along the street. She always hated this part of the walk because there was usually someone sitting outside on their apartment balcony and she felt "watched." Gwen was in her mid-twenties, just out of college, but single. She worked downtown at a bank and wore fashionable work clothes, but today on her run she wore simple athletic gear. She had an attractive body, lean and fit, and she hoped to keep it that way. It was on this street in particular that she could feel people "watch" her as she ran and it was unsettling. Today, her cell-phone rang, which threw off her running music, so she stopped to check her phone and get the music going again.

When she stopped, she could smell the cigarette smoke even stronger and felt eyes watching her from above. She glanced up and saw a thirty-something guy leaning over the railing and looking at her. She broke eye contact and paced a few steps, but still felt watched. He heard the man clear his throat and spit.

"Lookin' fine, girl! Don' stop now! Keep on'a runnin' " said the guy with a laugh.

She ignored him and tried to get her phone to start her running mix again. While she fussed with her phone, her water bottle slipped and fell onto the sidewalk. She could feel the man's pervert eyes watching her as she reached down to pick it up.

The man let out a loud whistle, "Nice ass! Come by later and I'll help you keep it in shape!"

She had been cat-called before, but this guy was starting to cross a line. Earlier that week, a friend had told her to download an app called "Men Are Dogs." It was supposedly some way to report incidents of guys acting like jerks or "dogs" so other girls could look them up and feel safer. Her friend had thought it was funny to see what kind of guys made it into the database, but Gwen never thought she would actually have to use it.

In a second, she grabbed her phone, opened up the app, and turned to the guy in the balcony.

"You want a picture! I'll give you more than a picture," he shouted as he grabbed his crotch and gestured vulgarly.

This was the first time she actually had a chance to look at this creep of a guy. He was wearing torn jeans and a white sleeveless t-shirt. He was a broad shouldered guy with a big build, but had a beer gut and flabby arms. He looked pretty strong, but not really in shape. His light blonde hair was cropped tight, almost shaved and he had a tattoo on his shoulder. He threw his cigarette in the bushes and licked his lips and thrust towards her again, laughing.

Her phone snapped a picture and within a few seconds the message read "Strike Three," which must have meant this guy had been reported by two other users. The next screen said "Teach this dog a lesson? Yes or No." She wasn't sure what this actually meant, but the guy was being a real dickhead, so she chose "yes."

The screen buffered with the message "Dog in Training," which had a picture of a muscular man wearing a dog collar and panting stupidly. She looked up and saw the man on the balcony look like he was choking and fall to his knees. She ran closer, hoping it wasn't all some stupid act. He was pawing at something at his neck, which Gwen realized was a leather collar. He made a few choking sounds and then looked at her and stuck his tongue out stupidly. Suddenly, his body started to shape shift into a compact, muscular dog. She saw a leash attached to the collar and the dog pleaded softly and looked up at her.

Her phone vibrated and she read the message, "Say hello to Kurt." She grabbed the leash, not sure what do with this man that she had watched transform into a dog. She was happy that he had stopped harassing her, but thought this was maybe an extreme reaction. The phone continued by asking "Bring Home or Bring to Pound?" She chose "bring home," but just wanted to get out of there before anyone one noticed. Kurt trotted in front on his leash while she finished her run.

As soon as she got home, she texted Amanda, the friend that had shown her the phone app. "No way!" was Amanda's reaction, "send a pic." Gwen snapped a picture of Kurt and sent it. "I'm coming over," Amanda replied.

--

"Oh my god!" Amanda squealed when Gwen explained what had happened. "He's so cute," she said as she pet Kurt on the back while he panted and barked.

"Well, he was saying all this stupid shit, and I just thought I'd take a picture and leave ... but it turned him into this dog ... and now I don't know how to turn him back!" Gwen stammered. "I don't want a dog!"

"But Gwen, look at him," Amanda said as she continued to pet Kurt's head.

"I don't want a dog! Especially one that was some sicko guy from the street!"

Gwen's phone suddenly vibrated again and she pulled up the app. She saw a picture of Kurt before he was a dog and the words "Teach your dog a new trick? Yes or No."

"What should I do," Gwen said in frustration. Amanda grabbed the phone and chose "yes." Kurt whimpered a little and then rolled over on his back. In a few minutes, his dog body had transformed back into the original Kurt, but he stayed motionless on the floor. Thankfully, his clothes had reappeared so they didn't have to see a nude guy "appear" on the living room floor.

"Woah," said Amanda. "So you're not kidding!"

"Of course not!" shouted Gwen. "This is him!"

"Give a command," prompted the phone and Amanda selected "Roll over." Kurt obediently rolled onto his belly. "Stand up," and Kurt stood up. "Try your own," read the phone. "Take off your shirt and flex," shouted Amanda. "Amanda! Stop it!" Gwen tried to say, but Kurt obeyed by taking off his white t-shirt and flexed his muscles. While Amanda gawked about controlling Kurt, Gwen saw her pile of unfolded laundry and had an idea for a command. "Kurt, fold my laundry." Dutifully, he walked over and started folding clothes. "Nice one," Amanda replied. "You've got a live-in butler!"

While Kurt folded clothes, the phone popped up another message. "See grooming options." Amanda and Gwen fiddled with the sliding bars, one for muscle, hair, height, etc., but they couldn't decide so they selected "Suggested grooming." They watched Kurt transform again, this time into a muscular young man with ripped abs, a tight ass with a thin waist. Long legs and arms with lean muscle, broad shoulders and sucked in stomach. His hairy belly and back were smooth, like he was properly groomed. Even his smile and eyes looked more attractive.

"Good lord!" said Amanda. "Take off your pants, Kurt!" and he obeyed. "No, like in a strip show!" Kurt walked over to her and started grinding while slowly unbuttoning his jeans. He had on a pair of tight underwear which showed his massive cock. But Gwen choose, "Kennel" on the app and Kurt stopped, curled up on the living room floor and within a minute was back to dog form.

"Oh come on!" said Amanda. "It was just getting fun."

"It's late, Amanda," said Gwen. "And I have to work. Plus, I just want to go to bed and figure out what to do about this in the morning."

"Fine," said Amanda as she headed towards the door. "But invite me over so I can play with your 'dog' once and awhile."

"Haha," replied Gwen drolly.

--

At 6:00 AM, Gwen heard scratching at her door. "What the?" she said as she staggered. She opened the door and saw Kurt scratching his paws to get her attention.

"Do you have to go outside," she asked and she knew the answer was yes. She grabbed the leash and walked him outside to take a piss on the lawn. She changed into her running gear and thought maybe she could take Kurt running with her.

After the run she started getting ready for work and took a quick shower. She stepped out wearing only her towel and screamed when she saw a man standing in the kitchen. But she realized it was only Kurt, who was busy cooking breakfast. He was wearing only his underwear and was the muscular version of himself from last night.

"What are you doing?" asked Gwen, as if talking to a pet. She was startled when he answered, "Making breakfast for you."

"Wait, you can talk?"

"Of course I can talk!"

The whole time since taking Kurt home, she hadn't heard him speak a word. Also, she noticed that even though she was only wrapped in a towel, Kurt was making perfect eye contact with her, not looking at her body or barely covered breasts, just right into her eyes. She felt a little sad for him, but also a sort of "puppy love" at how cute he was making breakfast for her. She finished changing, ate breakfast, and headed towards the door.

"Kurt, I'll be back around 5. Just don't mess anything them and keep clean, okay. Make yourself lunch."

"Have a good day, Gwen," Kurt answered with excitement as she closed and locked the door.

--

When Gwen opened the door to her house she didn't know what to expect. Would Kurt still be there? Would he be a dog-dog or a man-dog? Would he have run away? Would she keep him? What about Kurt's friends and family?

"Kurt, I'm home," Gwen called out. She heard the shower turn off and Kurt ran towards her, this time completely naked.

"Hi Gwen!" he said enthusiastically. She saw that Kurt's massive cock was swaying, half-erect. "Wanna get some exercise?" said Gwen.

"Yes, of course!" answered Kurt, who loved running. He ran to get the leash and held it out to her.

"Not that type of exercise," said Gwen as she led him towards the bedroom. "You're going to fuck me until I tell you to stop, okay!"

"Okay," he said, hopping up on the bed.

"And you're not going to talk until I tell you," she said. Kurt nodded.

"And go slow. You need to be more man and less dog right now," she added as she dropped her work skirt to the ground and pulled off her blouse.

After there love-making -- the best Gwen had ever had! -- Gwen had a notification on her phone. "Training Complete. All Men Are Dogs!"

She looked over at the muscular man-dog lying in bed next to her, looked at his smooth chest, thin waist, and tight ass, and put down the phone, fully determined to adopt this stray and keep him well-trained.

Ball Practice

--- Originally posted on 2018-08-13 by time-to-transform ---

I saw you checking us out at our practices. Can’t blame you, I mean watching a bunch of muscular jocks getting sweaty and tackling one another is pretty fucking hot.

I decided to do you a favor and transform you into the football that we’ll use from now on. Now, instead of watching from a distance, you can be up close to all of the sexiness going on here. I bet you’ll love being gripped tightly by my strong, meaty hands. And just wait until we start sweating even more, the manly odor we produce from all this exercise absolutely reeks.

If you got turned off simply by looking at us practice, you’re going to be in a horny paradise from now on. Hope you enjoy spending the rest of your life being roughly handled and tightly held by a bunch of sweaty football jocks. You’re welcome.

One Fad Fits All: Lumbersexual

--- Originally posted by TheBurdenBorne before 2018-12-09 ---

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

The mall was packed with holiday shoppers, but of course I was by myself. I had graduated from college a year or so ago, and spent most of my time by myself watching Netflix or working. I needed some new clothes, but always hated shopping. Everything that these stores sold was designed from slimmer men. I wasn't extremely overweight, but had a belly, big thighs, and a broad chest. I looked around and saw the other guys in the mall wearing their skinny jeans or athletic gear, and just knew I would never have the time to slim down to that size or bulk up muscle instead of fat.

"It's just hopeless," I muttered to myself.

I turned the corner and saw a store called "The Eclectic Man," which looked like it sold only men's clothes but in tons of different styles. The store was small and pretty much empty. Rather than the racks of clothes you saw in other stores, with each pants, shirt, or jacket coming in various sizes, this store was more like a thrift store with single pieces of clothes. But instead of all being mixed together, it was arranged by "fashion." In one corner, I saw athletic gear, another had gangster-looking clothing, another western clothes, etc.

"Can I help you find anything," said a voice from behind me. I turned around and saw a girl in her twenties with thick-rimmed glasses and a nose piercing. "Um...not really...just looking."

"Why don't you try this on!" she suggested, trying to be helpful and clearly not picking up the vibe that I wanted to be left alone. "This color would look great on you!" She was holding a red-and-black plaid shirt. Something about her confidence, made me stop. Did she really think that I would be able to wear that shirt? Was she just making a sale? Was she mocking me in her head?

"Um...I'm not sure..."

"What if I told you that you could have it for free, just for trying it on? If you like it, keep it!"

"Well...I guess..."

"Fitting rooms are in the back. I'll grab a few other items and meet you back there."

I took my shirt to the back of the store. Already, I felt stupid about trying it on. I mean, where would I wear this. It was clearly for someone outdoorsy! My form of exercise was playing video games all day -- and it showed too! Would I even fit into this shirt? I stepped into the fitting room and pulled off my hooded sweatshirt. My gut pushed against my t-shirt, reminding me that this would look stupid on me.

"Okay, let's see!" said the voice from outside.

"Jeez, she's pushy," I though to myself" and then said back "Just a second."

"Oh, make sure you put this on underneath. It goes with the shirt!" She tossed a grey muscle shirt over the door of the room. Now I knew she was trying to mock me. There was no way I was putting that on. But instead of resisting, I pulled off my t-shirt and set it next to me on the bench. My pale chubby gut filled the mirror in front of me. "What's the use," I said as I pulled the tight shirt into place. I quickly pulled the red-and-black plaid shirt on as well to hide my body.

"Well? How do you feel," she said. The question seemed odd to me. I felt the same -- I was just wearing some stupid clothes. But I looked in the mirror and it seemed like I had lost maybe 10 pounds. As if she was reading my mind, the girl call out, "You know, plaid is very slimming." I turned to the side and it looked like my gut was completely gone.

"You know, it actually looks pretty good," I said back.

"Great, here's some pants," she said as she slid a pair of tight blue jeans and a belt under the door. I dropped my sweat pants and pulled the jeans over my thighs. They were uncomfortably tight and the button barely held together. "Um...do you have a smaller size?" I called into the room. But I looked in the mirror again and the pants seemed to fit perfectly. Within a minute, I didn't even feel that they were tight. I heard a plop by the door and saw two brown work boots. I laced them up and when I stood felt like I was three inches taller. I looked at myself in the mirror and could barely recognize myself. Gone was the chubby loser that walked into the store. He was replaced with a rugged, muscular, toned outdoorsman.

I stepped out of the room to look for the girl, because she hadn't come back in awhile. I walked out into the store to look for her but she was gone. It felt awkward being in the store clothes, so I went back. But the room where I had stored my wallet and clothes was empty.

"Shit!" I cursed to myself. Before heading back into the store, I caught a glimpse of myself in the three-way mirror. The transformation had continued and now I sported a beard that was bushy but well-trimmed, and combed over hair that was cropped tight on the sides. I unbuttoned the top button on my shirt and noticed some curly hairs poking up from my undershirt.

"There you are," said the girl from behind. "Ooh! I like the new look."

"Yeah," I replied.

"I have the rest of your wardrobe at the register," she said.

"What..." for a second there was a lapse in my memory and I couldn't remember what she was talking about. "Right..." I replied as I followed her.

"Oh, looks like you dropped your wallet," she said as she pointed to the ground.

"Thanks," I replied. "I thought I left it in the dressing room...but..." I opened the wallet and saw my ID. The picture looked the same as the face in the mirror. The weight and height looked about right too for a burly lumberjack.

"And here's your cart," said the girl as be pushed a shopping cart loaded with jeans and flannel. There was at least six or seven sets of clothes, including jackets and accessories. I passed each set of clothes over the counter.

"Oh, those are already yours, sir," she said when I tried to give her a pair of sunglasses I had found in the cart.

"Right, of course," I said as I put the shades on.

She finished bagging up the clothes and handed them to me.

"Do I owe you anything?" I asked.

"Nope! It's your lucky day!" she replied.

I walked out of the store into the mall -- a group of girls looked at me and smiled. Later, a young guy also gave me a look. When I walked outside, I realized it was a little hot, so I unbuttoned my shirt a little and rolled up the sleeves. On my left arm was a tattoo, which I assumed had always been there. I dug around in my pants and found a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I assumed they were mine and lit up outside the mall.