Jock Transformation - Blog Posts

Hey man I don’t know what is happening to me and my best friends. We been working on a science project for our chemistry class at college but something has went very wrong. We accidentally. Got some of the chemicals on us and now we feel very weird and our clothes fell tighter then normal plus I feel to have a closer relationship to my best friend of 15 years bro. So bro I need your help…… help to stop what hap….. uhuhuhuh…. happening to us BRO!

The sirens were activated. The lights flickered, and the colour changed from its usual white to red. The liquid in the test tube you were holding started to give off a thick smoke. The room was quickly filled with vapor, blocking your view.  You and your best friend panicked, screaming in fear. With a jerking motion out of fear, you spilt your test tube on the lab coats of you and your friend. In  panic, the two of you evacuated the laboratory.

You and your best friend has become flatmates when you discovered you were attending the same university. You both were doing a major in chemistry. You were two very bright students who spent most of their time studying and playing TRPGs. You had never been in a gym, and you did not really connect with people who did fitness as a hobby. However, the two of you had both grown jealous of the big burly men who roamed the campus. You combined your knowledge to find a shortcut to a better body. A shortcut to a better life.

Today was a crazy day. You and your best friend, who had been roommates for a year now, arrived home. The weird liquid had stained both of your coats. It had eroded through it, and dyed your skin. You took turns trying to wash it off. But nothing seemed to work. Your friend had been sweating since he got home. His damp clothes did not help masking the strong musky smell. You told him to shower and to go to bed. You planned to shower tomorrow.

The next morning you felt extremely tired. You stretched your arms, which seemed to be harder than usual. It seemed like your body was struggling because of, well, itself! You looked at your arms. They definitely seemed bigger than usual. A thick layer of hair covered your lower arm, as thick muscles adorned your upper arm. You looked down, to be met with two mounts of flesh that weren’t there before. Your chest was covered with a dark pelt of fur. The hair went from your chest all the way to your feet. You touched your new body, feeling the coarse hairs. You touched your belly, feeling a layer of chub on your frame. You were by no means fat, but you weren’t shredded either. Your new hair seemed to work as some sort of isolation material. You were sweating buckets! A strong smell came from your glorified body.

You headed out of your room, looking for a mirror to check out this new you. In the bathroom, you are met with a man you barely recognize as your best friend. The previously blond twink had grown a dark stubble overnight. His body had also grown in size, but not as big as you. He had gained some inches, as well as some muscle. “Bro, what happened to you?” He said. Bro? He never said bro. He wasn’t some weird douche! “Whacha mean man?” You were shocked by what left your mouth! Your voice had dropped 2 octaves being a full and heavy voice. 

All of a sudden the way your friend looked at you changed. As if his train of thought had changed. He looked at you with lust in his eyes. “He bro, you look like you need to blow of some steam. Let me help you.” He got onto his knees, his nose in the thick bush just above your dick. He sniffed your ripe musk, looking up at you as if asking for permission. You could only grin at him, as he put your thick girthy cock in his mouth.

A new bunny in the gym

My roommate Ryan has always been telling me I need to loosen up and stop taking life so seriously. Maybe he's got a point. While I spend all my time in the library studying he spends it at the gym or having fun at the club, and being bisexual he never has a probably finding a fuck.

I finally relented and joined him at the gym. The place was huge. Full of men of different sizes, all with bulging muscles. Though I was straight, not that I had much luck with girls, I could appreciate that all the men here were pretty attractive.

As I didn't know what to do or what to wear at the gym Ryan took me under his wing. Giving me socks, shorts, trainers, t-shirt, baseball cap, and a jockstrap to wear.

I was hesitant at first with the jockstrap, the black material didn't exactly look like it was new. It certainly wasn't something I would usually wear either.

"Don't worry bro, it's what all the guys wear!" Ryan promised.

I thought that I should listen to him considering that this was his domain so I done as I was told.

We started with some squats. Ryan showing me how to do stretch properly and safely use the weights. As I started squatting I felt the huge weights actually become easier and easier each time .

"Your legs are going to be so thick after this!" Ryan called out.

"...and so will that ass" he muttered under his breath.

We moved around the gym using the different machines. Each time they became easier to use really quickly. What I didn't notice was my body changing.

Muscle was quickly building up across my body. Turning me into a meaty gym bunny.

At the same time all those hours spent in the library were slipping away. Which explains why I didn't notice the changes.

It also explains why I didn't notice that all the guys in the gym were all very similar. About half were strong tall beasts with huge muscles. Whereas the rest were smaller, leaner but just as muscly with round bouncing asses.

Our final exercise was a couple of bench presses. I lay on my back with Ryan standing above my head helping me lift.

As he did he lowered his crotch towards my face. Breathing in his sweaty musk I felt everything click in place. My cock harded immediately and I became lost in his trance.

"I see you're changes have finally finished" Ryan said.

Putting the bar into the rack I stopped and looked up at him.

"You weren't living life and I was sick of coming back to the apartment to find you studying and not having fun. So when I found out about this place I had to bring you. Now that you're a muscle bro you can join me and have fun."

I just let the words sink in.

Ryan continued. "The best bit is that now you're just a cock hungry gym bunny. With an ass like that you'll be getting plenty of dick. Most of it mine. You won't even remember being straight."

---

That was four months ago. He was right. Now we go to the gym everyday together. Him a towering hulk of a man and me, a lean twunk with an ass that just begs to be fucked.

And it is fucked, all the time. I quickly grew to love the feeling and now I can't get enough. When Ryan isn't free I sometimes get help from the other guys at the gym. They're always happy to stretch me out after a session.

Life is so much easier now, why did I waste all that time in the library?

_____

First time writing, let me know your thoughts!

Hey dude, I'm just a lil bro looking for a big bro to take care of me in all sorts of ways but all I'm stuck with is my lousy nerd of a roommate. Could you help me out?

FML: Fraternize

My roommate was… chill all things considered. I don’t know, he was just the random guy that I got stuck with when all my bros decided to move into the house and I needed someone to take the lease with. Scruffy, for sure. A bit out of shape. He said he used to play soccer in high school. Cute, but that was about it. Nowadays he was just getting his degree in English. Just a guy. But I didn’t want just another guy.

I tried to be friends with the guy, but he always just blew me and my boys off. He would just say he was too busy studying or playing some video game to come out to the gym with us or hang at the frat. I finally decided I was fed up. I needed my roommate to be more than a rando in my house. I needed a bro. And the fraternity had some resources to make that happen.

They usually keep this kinda stuff for pledges who start stepping out of line, but my buddy slipped me the files that they show to help guys get in line. I don’t remember if I ever saw them myself… what ever. It was a series of videos that promised to turn any guy into a bro in no time flat. So, one night, I put the tapes on when my roommate was home:

“Hey man, I’ve gotta watch these for class, mind if I slip them on?”

“No problem, I’ll just hang out in my bedroom.”

“Actually, it may be something you would like. You should stay. Here, you chill here and I’ll listen while I cook. I’ll make enough to split.”

I turned the first tape on and went to cook up some chicken and rice. In the other room, I heard the video beginning. It wasn’t long before I started hearing my roommate responding to the commands:

You are loyal to your bros.

“I am loyal to my bros.”

When you are around them you feel relaxed.

“When I am around them I feel relaxed”

The gym feels like your second home.

“The gym feels like my second home.”

The frat is life. You are made to be loyal to the frat.

“I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

They kept pushing him in the background while I finished cooking some food. When I walked back into the room, static filled the screen as my roommate stared into space, drool dripping from his mouth. I turned of the TV and he seemed to come to his senses.

“Hey, sup bro? Got the fuel?”

Already he was much better, “Yeah man, chicken and rice.”

“Hell yeah, gotta get a good workout in before getting my homework done.”

We ate quickly and started getting ready for the gym.

“Hey, bro, you think they are still taking new pledges? I’ve been meaning to apply to your frat!”

I was shocked at how quick the progress had been, “Yeah man. I’ll hook you up with my peeps tomorrow.”

“Sweet, let me finish getting ready and we can go.”

Dang those videos were quick. Even the way he carried himself was so different. This is the bro I needed.

The week went on and we kept working out. I hooked my roommate up with the pledge master and he quickly started falling in with the bros. We worked out, partied, did almost everything together now. I gave the rest of the tapes back to my guy who gave them to me. He said he needed them for a few guys who had gotten a little hands-y with some girls at the last party. I was fine to get them back, I didn’t think there would be any more issues with my roommate.

The year flew by until it was time for spring break. I had opted to be my roommate’s big and done all the usual hazing and shit with him. Had to keep him on his A game, I wasn’t going to go east on him. The spring break frat trip was a rite of passage for the incoming pledges. As much as I wanted to go, I had plans to visit California with my partner. We were having a great time, chilling at the beach, shopping through souvenir stores, and hiking parks. But I made sure to get updates about how my roommate was enjoying his week. It was from one of these progress reports that I got word from the pledge master:

Hey, bro. Just letting you know. Your little bro was making some girls uncomfortable at the bar. Can’t have that causing issues for the frat.

Shit man. I’m sorry. Lemme talk to him.

Nah dude, it’s good. We have a protocol for these kinds things. Just letting you know so you aren’t surprised. We’ll make sure he won’t bother any girls again.

Thanks dude. Lemme know if you need anything.

Nah bruh, relax. Enjoy your vacay.

Well as long as they have shit handled. I went back to my vacation and forgot about the whole situation. I would give him crap for it when I got back. The rest of our trip was great. I didn’t hear anything more from my bros so I assumed it all went according to plan. I was eager to get back to my roommate and prep him for full brotherhood when I got back. It wasn’t till I walked into the apartment I knew something was awry:

“Sup, bro, welcome back.”

A deep voice echoed from the balcony. He stepped inside and was greeted by a stranger. His arms were as thick as a football, his legs as thick as tree trunks. The smell of sweat, sex, and stale beer followed him into the room. He had a fresh tattoo on his arm with the number 86 boldly displayed. The stranger walked with swagger up to me, like he owned the place. As he approached, his musk only grew more intense. It wasn’t until I noticed the glasses it all clicked into place:

“Bro… is that you?!?”

“Bruh, who else would it be?”

My roommate stood proudly in front of me. He had been going to the gym steadily but no amount of protein powder could explain the progress he had made in a week. He was also easily 3 inches taller. And the smell. I don’t know how to describe it but he smelled… virile. Like just being around him was starting to get me excited. He certainly had never been like this before.

“Looking good, right? Like the new tat? Year of our chapter’s founding, 1986. After all, I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

That line made it all click together. The tapes. They said they would handle the situation, I didn’t know they would use the tapes.

”Speaking of which, dude. I can’t believe you flaked on the frat and went on a trip with your partner. You’ve got to be loyal to your bros.”

His scent, his words, my mind was swimming in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He stepped towards me, grabbing my head. I was pulled into his pit. I tried to pull back but a hand on the back of my head held me firmly in place. I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to huff the scent of pure frat bro. I was… fading. I couldn’t… resist… my… my… bruhhhhh.

“I think that you should sit through the next set with me bro.”

My mind was blank as he told me to sit down on the couch. Of course, I would do anything for my frat bro. He put on a video and sat behind me.

“They said we could watch this one together.”

The video whirled to life as my roommate held me in place in his lap. A flash of color and a brief intro played. It explained that it was the last in a series of videos for brothers who were trouble makers in the frat. This last one was the most extreme. I felt a wave of guilt, knowing I had betrayed my brothers and the chapter. I wasn’t sure what I did but I knew it must be bad. My behavior had to change.

You will conform to the standard set by the frat, whatever it takes. You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.

“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” we both repeated, in unison.

Good. Since you have proven you can’t be trusted with making good decisions, your brothers have decided to make those for you. You will become the ultimate frat bro.

“I will become the ultimate frat bro.”

Let’s start on the outside. A brother works out daily, at least. Strong muscles make for a strong foundation.

As I repeated the words, they became my reality. I had certainly never been a scrawny guy before, but this was something else. My muscles convulsed all at once, then seemed to shred and burst. My muscles ached as pecs, biceps, abs all were pulled out of my body. I sweat under the effort as legs bloated and toned, bloated and toned. My back stretched out and shoulders mounded on muscle.

Good bro. Now, a brother should be cocky, with a cock to match. All the other fraternities should know how superior we are.

‘Shiiit, no other frat could even come close. We threw the best parties, had the hottest girls and… fuck the hottest guys. With a bod like this, just about no body could resist.’ As those thoughts echoed in my head, there was a sharp pain in my balls as they started to swell. My cock snaked down my shorts, throbbing with newfound power and size. A moan escaped my mouth as my cock swelled thick as a beer can. Anyone would beg for a cock like this.

A frat bro with a cock like that just needs to fuck. Your libido keeps your mind so full that you hardly have time to pass your business classes.

My swollen balls began to churn as my cock came to life. As my mind was thrust into a deep sexual haze, any aspirations I had on my pre-law track were pushed out, draining right to my balls and slowly leaking out my cock. At the same time, I felt my roommate begin to shift behind me. I felt his cock press against the small of my back, throbbing as it was thrust into overdrive. He began slowly humping against my back, and I leaned back against that massive cock. I wanted to help my bro however I could. He wrapped his arms around me and slowly started jacking me off. My mind was in pure bliss as I was kicked into overdrive. His arms felt so warm and strong, and he was pushing all my buttons till I was thrusting into his hands.

The frat is a part of you. You live, breath, and sweat the frat. Everyone who meets you will know exactly what you’re about and submit to you, an alpha bro. You put the reek in Greek.

My mind processed for a second until the smell hit me from behind and I understood. My hormones shifted as sweat poured out. It was hard work being a fraternity brother, and everyone would know that. I worked overtime as the smell of straight frat filled my nostrils. The apartment changed in response, filled with leftover beers, used tank tops, and soaked underwear. Anyone who entered would fall into an immediate haze, the smell of bros clouding their mind. My mind was… so… slow. Just… needed… FUCK.

You will keep it simple, keep it stupid.

“I will keep it simple, keep it stupid.”

My head felt like it was filled with fluff. No thoughts, just instinct.

You will listen to your pledge master, follow all he says.

“I will listen to my pledge master, follow all he says.”

It was so much easier to just trust my bros. Whatever they said went.

You will live for and serve your bros, live for and serve the frat.

“I will live for and serve my bros and the frat.”

I would do anything for my bros. Gotta keep ‘em happy.

The frat is life.

“The frat is life.”

My roommate’s cock was still rock hard behind me. His grip was edging me as moaned for release. I could dedicate my life to men like him.

Thank you for your cooperation. There will be no further issues. Now cum.

And I did. Ropes shot across the floor as all the changes were set in stone. I was just another frat dude, struggling through Business classes and fucking through the night.

And with that the video ended. It took a sec for me to regain my senses. I slowly refocused my eyes and… fuck bruh my head is pounding. Musta partied too hard last night. Shit, I was drooling all over myself, lol. I mean, I’m hot but not that hot. And fuck, I made a mess. Bro, what happened? It’s already late, I’ve got to get ready to go out tonight.

I was going to throw on a polo and some shorts when my roommate put a hand on my shoulder. This man must’ve got a double dose of whatever I got. Bro, he was on another fucking level. He pulled me in tight, cupped my ass in his hands, held my chin, and slid his tongue in my mouth. All at once, my world shifted as the fraternity’s motto rang in my head, I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood. An aching in my balls told me that I wasn’t going to make it out tonight. I had my frat bro… no, my big bro right here. And he will take care of his little bro. He pulled down his sweatpants and a thick rod popped out from the waistband. He gently guided me to his cock, the true source of his musk. Our scents mingled as my thoughts were consumed by sex. The salty taste of pre coated my tongue as the tip slid down the back of my throat. My mind faded as the smell of the frat filled my nostrils. I was lost in bliss as my bro started pumping, pumping down my throat. Gone was the nerdy roommate I had:

There was nothing left but frat bro.

Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!

Confidence

Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.

When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".

No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.

He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.

Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.

The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.

Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.

Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.

Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.

He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.

"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.

"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"

Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."

The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"

Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.

"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."

"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".

"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."

Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.

"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"

Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.

"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."

Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".

Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"

Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.

A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.

"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."

A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."

Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"

With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.

Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?

A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.

Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?

He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.

When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.

The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?

Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?

Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.

An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.

When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.

"Hello, Nathan!"

"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.

"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.

"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.

"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"

"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.

"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.

"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."

"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"

Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.

After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"

Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"

The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.

Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.

"Damn, it's that late already?"

"What is it?", asked Nathan.

"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"

Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.

"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."

Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.

"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"

Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.

"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.

"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"

"Sure!"

Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.

"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.

Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.

When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.

Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.

Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.

Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.

Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.

Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.

He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.

Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.

His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.

Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.

Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.

The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.

During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.

Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.

After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"

Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.

So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."

Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"

Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"

The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.

Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.

There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"

"I would love that!"

They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.

When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.

As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.

Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!

When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.

Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.

After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!

His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.

None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.

Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.

The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.

Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.

At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.

They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.

The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.

"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.

"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."

"You're not driving, are you?"

"Na, I'm here on foot."

Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."

There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.

"Sounds great!"

A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.

"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."

"Oh. Thanks."

Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."

"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.

"Yeah. Fits better, you know."

"I guess so. I like it a lot!"

"I like your style, too."

"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.

"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."

"Why, thank you!"

The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.

Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.

They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.

"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."

When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.

"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."

While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.

"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."

Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.

"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"

"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"

Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"

"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"

Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."

Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"

They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.

Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.

Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."

Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.

"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.

Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.

With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.

The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.

"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.

When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.

"You really are a big boy, huh?"

"Damn right I am."

"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"

"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."

"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."

Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.

"You're ready?"

"Do it, big guy."

Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.

"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.

The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.

Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.

"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"

"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"

Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.

"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"

Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.

The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.

A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.

I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!

Revenge: Jock Bro Style

"Whoa broski! WTF r u doin bro?!" The deep voice of one of the jocks echoed in the hallway.

"BROCK ANDERSON! You shut your mouth and move out the way, NOW!" Colin Foster, head of the English club of the neighboring college, shouted back. He had just come back from a tiring activity about writing some kind of novel, when he had the misfortune of bumping right into Brock Anderson: apparently the school's most feared and revered football players, hanging out with his small group of friends. He was just trying to visit an old friend of his, a fellow English teacher just a few floors up.

"Huhuh, sorry duude..." Brock responded, his deep bass voice resonating in Colin's ears. This irritated Colin more, as in the moment he felt as though he was being disrespected. They didn't even call him sir for crying out loud, he though to himself, as he felt his fury rise. "You absolute DIMWITS! I am at my wits end trying to just get through the day and burly asses decided to just block my way JUST TO TALK?!" Colin hurled more and more insults. He didn't even know why he was this angry at something so insignificant, but the day's stresses got the better of him.

Pushing his way through the jocks, he was about to walk the other direction when Brock shouted. "HEY! You do not get to talk about us like that!" he spoke loudly and firmly, pointing his fingers in Colin's direction. Brock's friends stayed quiet behind him, the one beside him mockingly scrunching his "angry" face. Colin was taken aback by Brock's sudden proficiency in English, but he simply tutted, turned around, and walked briskly away from the jocks. Brock placed his hands down, and calmly walked away from his friends, opening his phone and dialing some number he found on the net. "I'd like to purchase one of your little games..."

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Night came, as Colin begrudgingly sat on his desk chair and turned on his laptop. It was time to grade yet another set of papers made by some of his students. It was nearing midnight when he finally yawned, placing his hands on his tired face. "God I'm turning 45 just round the corner...." he mumbled to himself. He thought back to the incident that happened earlier that day, and closed his eyes. He knew shouldn't have been that angry, and yet he still hated them. His type, the damn jocks. "Dumb lumbering pieces of meat", he thought to himself.

Just then, a notification popped up. Opening it, he saw something which made his stomach drop.

"...Brock?" He mumbled to himself. Rolling his eyes at the horrible typography and spelling, he begrudgingly nodded understandingly. Looking at the bottom, he saw a link to this "present". "Jockify. Some kinda' new workout app maybe? Could use a few of those." Colin chuckled to himself. He was known to be quite skinny. Clicking it, a file downloaded on his computer. After unzipping it, he clicked on the app and it began loading. As it did, something caught his eye. The appearance of the pop-up seemed...old. REALLY old. Windows XP old. "Jesus, is this a virus..." he groaned, tapping his fingers on his desk. Finally, the pop-up loaded.

Colin gasped in shock as he flung himself backwards to his chair's backrest. First, what the hell was this "bro'd" thing and why the fuck did Brock send this. Second, this did NOT look like a typical Windows XP pop-up, or really any pop-up for that matter. Everything seemed wrong, and Colin sighed exhaustedly. "Goddammit Brock." he mumbled angrily. But as his cursor went over to close it, the cursor went haywire. Try as he might, he couldn't close the pop-up. He even tried the last resort, turning the laptop off and then on again. The pop-up was still there. He wanted to put this off for tomorrow, but he still had some papers left to go over. Slapping himself across the face, he pushed forward and clicked the underlined link below.

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*click*

When it appeared, Colin immediately tried to close it. But he felt something tingling on his legs, arms, hands, neck-- it was everywhere. He immediately tried to scratch these parts, when the tingling turned into pain. His legs ballooned with lean muscle as he felt his pants shift. As the pants suddenly shredded themselves he felt his bulge vibrate and pulsate as his cock erupted forth from his groin. The pain sent Colin stand up immediately and went limping to the bathroom as he surveyed it. Standing fully erect and having grazed a table leg so hard it sent waves of orgasmic pleasure down his whole body, Colin looked down.

(Colin's cock)

"J-jesus fuck..." Colin whispered in overwhelming pleasure as his cock stood tall. Placing his hand next to it, he figured it was maybe a full 10 inches long. But the changes were only beginning. As he tried to limp back with his cock swinging between his legs, he fell onto the ground as more and more muscle rippled through his body. He felt his spine elongate and stretch, as did his bones, tendons, and everything in between. With a few ghastly pops and cracks, he groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure, grasping his cock with one hand trying to contain himself. As his clothes shredded themselves, they seemed to have disappeared into thin air entirely. Colin was scared. And overwhelmingly horny.

(Colin's body)

After a few pained breaths, he slowly stood up, now a towering giant of 6 foot 10 inches. He walked over slowly back to the laptop, huffing carefully as he grasped his cock, which was now a full 12-inch long hunk of meat. "...g-gOD..." Colin mumbled, clutching at his throat in surprise at the deeper voice he now had. He wanted this nightmare to end, and desperately tried to close the pop-up. But instead, the cursor moved itself towards the link.

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*click*

"SHIT! Oh god...p-please, no moOO-" Colin was barely able to complete his pleas of mercy when his feet burst through his socks. The pain was more tolerable this time, as he clenched his jaws the entire time his feet grew larger. What was then a US size 14 had grown into hunks of size 21 meat. "Meat. Meat. Meat.", the word swirled around in Colin's head, staring at his feet while laying down, still naked, on the floor. Pushed on by the caption in the pop-up, he slowly placed his nose near his feet and took a sniff. They smelled like old socks, much to his chagrin. At least it didn't smell that bad.

Taking a few deep breaths, he went back to the laptop and placed his hands on the mouse. If Brock wanted to play dirty, he would at least try to not go down without a fight. He wanted to see what was at the end of this stupid "game".

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*click*

As the pop-up appeared, a foul stench suddenly greeted his nose. Looking down, he saw that over his naked muscled bod were some new clothes. They all stunk. Keeling his head over to his armpits, he felt the warm sweat greet his face, as the stench of....manliness...pierced his nostrils. "...manliness?" Colin grumbled to hismelf. Why the hell did he describe it like that? Then he turned to his feet, new socks draped over them. Carefully removing the socks revealed the insides to be horrendously stained brown with what seemed to be weeks worth of sweat and dirt. Tossing them aside in the pile, he was about to take a whiff when it hit him. "Pile?" No, he was better than that. He always placed his socks in the washing machine but...there was a pile. He had a pile. And somehow, he knew there was a pile. A pile of dirtied, smelly socks.

He looked back at his feet and took a long whiff.

The putrid smell knocked him out, as he fell back on the floor with his head spinning. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click* As he woke up, he found himself sitting in front of the laptop, his hands already placed atop the mouse. He had clicked without knowing it. Colin looked around himself, as he noticed he was no longer in his shoddy apartment. He was now in some dingy room, the walls covered with posters of men, medals, awards, trophies, and the floor covered with piles of dirty unwashed clothing. His chair had turned into some dirty couch, as the desk had turned into a coffee table. His nose wrinkled at the horrible smell that was now everywhere. He closed his eyes in mild panic. "I-It's a'ight Colin. J-just get to the e-end."

After a few breaths, he opened them.

Colin's face warped into that of horror. "D-Dumb?!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he suddenly felt a crushing headache as he leaned forward, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Slowly, the rest of hid body tightened up, as his age went down, stopping to reveal he had now regressed back into a 25-year old stud. Slowly but surely, his neurons began to either disintegrate or reorganize. All of that sophisticated schooling slowly slipped away, as he also began to lose memories he had even gone to them to begin with. With the loss of his intelligence, drool began to pool in his mouth, before seeping out in a small fine stream of saliva. What was once a proud IQ of 120 was struck down to a mind-numbing 50. Just enough to let him follow simple instructions and live comfortably. "...huhuh bro.....s-stop b-brooo...." he groaned, chuckling mindlessly at himself as he placed his sweaty feet on the desk with a loud thump as he stretched his legs. But inside, there was still a piece of him that wanted to fight back. Memories that he used to be a greater, smarter person. Someone who had the brains to deal with all kinds of bullshit. He wanted to turn back into that person.

Colin moved on, clicking the pop-up again.

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*click*

"...th-the End....b-broOOo?" Colin mumbled in a jock-like inflection. Inside, he panicked. He still remembered he used to have the ability to read this without difficulty, but as he started to read the pop-up he found himself struggling to piece together what the alphabet even meant to sound like. "I.....w-wAnna g-gO.....b-back broOo...." Colin mumbled desperately. Even though he was in a new world of bliss, he wanted to turn back. He had learned his les--.wait...lesson for doing what again?

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*click*

Colin stared dumbfounded at the equation. A simple equation. He remembered it was simple, but he somehow couldn't find the answer. The text on screen was almost illegible, as his brain filled in the gaps with a few words he knew.

Colin leaned forward in fear. "...bro....I d-don't...k-knOw.....huhu...f-fUck dude...i d-dOn't wAnna b-be a BRO....like...BRO....". Wracking his mind for any semblance of even a number to place, he gave up. The pain of trying to think was too much, as the last bits of his intelligence seeped out from his mouth...and cock.

He typed nonsense. It was all he knew.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

"huhu...f-fuUUCK BRO" Colin winced at the screen. There was Brock's face, proudly showing a middle finger. His body convulsed with pleasure as more cum slowly but surely seeped down into his shorts. And now he was at the end. With nowhere else to turn, Colin clicked the pop-up as it closed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click*

Immediately, his mind went blank. Colin...who the fuck was Colin again? Cum continued flowing out his throbbing cock, as another dull feeling washed over his brain. C... Co... Col... Colt... Colt shook his head as he looked down at the laptop. There on the screen was Brock's face, plastered with the words "FUK U DUDE".

"huhuh...b-brock dude...wanna s-smell m-my...f-feet bro..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was now two years later, and a lot has changed for the two jocks. For one, Brock had finally passed his third year of college after many many attempts at the exam. Knocking at the door of his new apartment, Brock opened the door.

"Guess what bro...I got an A+!" Brock flexed in Colt's face, cockily chuckling to himself as the he went back to his room.

Colt could only mumble incoherently, slouching his hulking body over as his eyes went everywhere but Brock. Brock smiled. After finding Colt in his dingy room following the conversion, he managed to sneak him into the school, becoming his own personal pet jock. After crafting elaborate fake emails saying "Colin" had quit his job and moved to Canada, "Colin" slowly faded from the public's memory.

After moving out from the school dorms, he found a new apartment nearby and rented a large enough room. With Colt in tow, he now had time to let him roam out to the different gyms across town whenever he was in class or out working. This had the added perk of keeping him both docile and bulking him up a little more. He had the mind of an animal now anyways, and he knew exactly when and where to find his coach when the time comes.

As Colt sat down on what was now a small couch to him and grabbing a bottle of beer, Brock slapped him across the face, making Colt grunt and drool all over himself.

"That's right dumbass. I'm on top now. No one even knows who you are anymore." Brock said, stuffing Colt's mouth with his fingers, puppeteering his head side to side before taking them out. Colt only chuckled as he placed the bottle back in his mouth. "...t-top...b-brooo...huhuhuh..."

"And who's a good dumb jock bro now hmm?"

"M-me...d-dumb....jOck...brooo huhuh..."

The university was clearly scraping the bottom of the barrel when they paired you up with your jock of a roommate. The residence hall questionnaire could only have been entirely ignored when dorm assignments rolled in and the housing department created the ultimate odd couple.

You were there to study, take notes, get a degree, and learn how to live on your own without your parents there to cook and clean. Your roommate on the other hand was there to meet bros, build muscle, and attending to the incessant needs of his cock with whatever convenient vagina he could find at that moment. And all this took president over any kind of cleaning or tidying or laundry—it didn't take long for his sweaty clothes from his routine workouts to establish a sustained odor. At the same time, you also managed to develop a raging crush on your inflexibly straight roomie.

It didn't take long for his habits and your habits to cause friction and even less time for you to get to the end of your rope. Getting out wasn't going to be an option, not this year with the dorms at capacity and no other willing swappers in their system. In your desperation to get out or try to change any aspect of the situation, you find yourself reaching out to me.

My solution is a potion that promises to make the necessary changes to guarantee he becomes the perfect roommate for you, so long as you both drink it.

Slipping it in his protein shake proved to be quite simple. Once he was off to the gym for the evening with his spiked supplement, you took the other vial in your hand, regarded the liquid for a moment, and downed it.

...

You wait for a moment, expecting... well what should you be expecting...

After a few seconds of nothing, you wonder what you really just drank. Magic wasn't real, and despite what you'd heard about me from... whatever source, you realize how foolish you were thinking a little—mountain dew maybe?—would change anything with your disgusting roommate.

Man, his musky work-out smell is really strong. You always think it's the worst it's been and then the b.o. manages to intensify. Instead, you make a feeble attempt to distance yourself from the stench by crossing to your side of the room, except it proves to be inescapable.

Ugh, you look down and see a shirt on the ground on your side of the room. He's really taking over everything now. You go to pick it up... but realize it's one of your shirts... and... it smells. Do you need more deodorant? Did you forget to put the shirt in the hamper?— Is he wearing your clothes?... Did that thought turn you on a bit?

Wait a second. Are you smelling the shirt? You were smelling the shirt. You didn't even realize it but you while you were lost in thought, you had brought the garment with his rank aroma to your nose and taken a nice deep breath... maybe a couple—you couldn't remember...

And again... it smells kinda nice... except... you realize the shirt was his. It was a lycra compression shirt, and you didn't own any lycra... why did you think it was your shirt? You didn't go to the gym, work out; you don't have any muscle like he does so it make sense because if it was yours, you'd—

You catch a view of yourself. Each side of the room had a closet for every resident, and these closets had large, fully-mirrored sliding doors. If you had muscle, you probably would own lycra clothing, you probably would check yourself out in your closet mirror like he did, you probably would flex your muscles, like...

Like this... and this...

Even though you didn't work out, you saw some shadow of definition. You felt your modest weenie chub up as your biceps bulged even just slightly. And if you fleeeeeeeexed again... you might be able to smell your own musk wafting outward from your exposed arm pits. If you strike this pose... it could exaggerate the taper of your midsection from your shoulders narrowing to your waist. If you wanted to see that v-shape even better, you could take off your shirt... let it hit the floor... add to the pile of your other sweaty rank gym clothes. If you contracted like... this, you could cause your pecs to bulge and your arms to come into clearer definition, almost like they were not just bulging with muscle, but actually swelling, growing larger. This is what muscular people must feel like—your were turning yourself on more and more making your dick grow harder and harder seeming to thicken in your underwear until it bulges obviously in your black joggers.

And if you did have a bigger dick and bigger balls you'd have more testosterone, a sharper jaw, body hair. Hair that would highlight your abs and dust your pecs and give you thicker muskier bushes under your arms. But if you did have a bigger dick, you would probably be soooo horny. You would probably be so dumb. if you were swole, you'd just need to lift and flex... and if you were horny, you'd just need a steady stream of cock and ass to tend to your own big thick dick...

you flex again... and again... and again...

if you were a nerd, you'd probably hate living with a dumb bro like you, but you got paired with the perfect roommate who just wants to flex and fuck. just like you.

The door opens and your roommate enters. You turn towards him, mid-flex. The stench of your combined musk hits him like a drug and you see his bulge swell visibly in this fuckbro gym shorts. Somehow the college had paired you with another gay bro who was always down to offer a hand or a hole any time of day or night—and you were just as willing to return the favor.

"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"

Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.

"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.

"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."

Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.

"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"

"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.

I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.

"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"

Max's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"

Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.

I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.

"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."

I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."

"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."

I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.

"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."

The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.

"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.

I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.

"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."

I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.

"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"

I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.

"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.

"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"

"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."

Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.

"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."

"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"

Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.

"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"

"I can't..."

"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."

Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.

"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."

"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.

"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.

"Please, stop..."

"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."

"Wait, no, what are you doing?"

"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.

"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."

I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.

"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.

"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."

"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"

"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."

"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."

I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.

The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.

"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.

"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."

Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.

"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"

"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."

"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.

My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.

"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."

Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.

"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."

My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.

"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.

"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."

"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"

"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."

"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.

"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."

"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."

"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."

"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."

I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.

"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."

"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"

The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.

"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.

"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.

"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.

My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.

"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."

"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.

I was so turned on.

"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.

"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."

"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."

"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.

I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.

"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.

My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.

"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.

"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."

"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.

My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.

"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."

I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.

With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."

"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.

I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.

"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.

"I love you, dude." Max giggled.

"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."

"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."

"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.

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.

Batter Up!

Back to it! Here's another nerd to jock TF, a bookish nerd learns to enjoy baseball the hard way! Hope you enjoy! -Occam

America’s game eh? Jeremy was never all that into any kind of sport, but baseball was a particularly dull one. At least your footballs and basketballs have man-on-man contact right? He briefly scans the field to find anything, anyone perhaps, of interest. The briefest of inspections shows these athletes are some real man’s man types that Jeremy turns his nose up at. His attention turns back to the book sitting in his lap and he loses himself in a world not consumed by a nine-inning snooze-fest.

He hears the loud smash of a bat beaming a ball. As one should expect at the game, not like the batters should miss that often right? Given they’ve nothing else going on up there they should just hit every pitch right? He smugly thinks to himself, taking no time to inspect the field at all. Foolish as even a glance up would bring his attention to the rapidly approaching predicament. His friend who dragged him to the game shouts “Jere!” and the bored bookworm looks up with just enough time to see a baseball torpedoing towards him. His grimaces, starting one last one last snide remark to his friend “Aren’t they supposed to-” before being nailed in the head and losing consciousness.

He awakens elsewhere, though clearly still in the stadium. His head is absolutely pounding with a headache greater than he thought possible. His mind starts to hobble together yet another criticism of the game before a stabbing migraine beats him to the punch. His whole body clenches in response to the pain. Strain and soreness seep through his limbs and core as he tries to sit up. Jeremy then notices his right hand squeezing something with such strength it is almost alien to him. Dragging his arm up with more effort than it should take he finds his hand grasping the baseball that laid him flat, a small bloodstain dotted across the stitching.

His attention doesn’t rest too long on the blood-stained ball clenched in his hand however. This concussion must be messing with his perception or something as his hand looks wrong. Jeremy closes his eyes and shakes his head, trying to will his vision back to normality, dropping the baseball in his lap as he inspects his hands next to each other. This makes it beyond apparent that something truly bizarre must be happening to his psyche. His right hand looks like a, well, baseball mitt compared to the thin fingers of his left. Its wingspan large enough to easily palm a basketball, his eye twitches as his mind tries to reconcile his apparently massive hand. Rationality fighting against the current reality as his eyes trail down to see something similar happening to his arm.

Each twist and turn of his hand sends a cascade of twitches down his arm, this he’s used to. His thin arms always broadcast the slightest movements of his hitherto delicate hands, what is beyond odd is that with each movement of his new mitt his forearm is beginning to grow. He feels his chest begin to tighten with anxiety as he watches tight muscle begin to course down his thin bony forearm. Seemingly trying to catch up with the monstrous hand on its far end. Somehow scarier than his arm beginning to bloat with strength is the idea that is beginning to creep on the edges of his mind that this is all normal. Spent all that time at the gym for it right?

Jeremy slams his eyes shut and struggles to take deep breaths, leaving him unaware as the growth quickly spreads further up his arm into his bicep. For the best that he doesn’t notice it, for all his cynical whining at the sport he does quite admire the player’s massive arms. Should he see his beginning to develop such cannons he may have given in to whatever this episode is outright. Instead he shifts his shoulder as a unique tightness arises with the ongoing growth of his bicep, veins pulsing larger down his right arm as his shoulder puts on mass to be able support the increasingly meaty arm. Muscle twitching across his arm as his bicep peaks ever higher.

His eyes still closed, Jeremy goes to rub his face, reminding himself that this must be some kind of delusion or hallucination from his concussion. Instead he finds more changes occurring away from his vision. His face feels rougher. Both his petite left hand and massive right feel a face far more worn and scratchy than the pale inside kid one he knows he has. His brows knit together in fear as he feels what can only be stubble dragging at his palms. The tips of his fingers feel said brows grow thicker and darker as they aim to ever cast a shadow over his eyes. He finally opens them and contemplates if he should find a mirror or not which is when a new horror alights. As his left hand touched his face, sidling up to that alien mit, it too has begun to change.

Calluses peek out on his fingers that his mind without hesitation assigns to holding a bat. He clenches his jaw, feeling pressure as it grows wider underneath the itchy stubble. He watches as his small hand balloons to match its monstrous pair, his headache returning as he cries out in his mind that this isn’t right. Something deep in the pit of his stomach disagrees, glad that he’s finally got the hands of a man. He gulps and finds it is suddenly difficult to swallow. Bringing a meaty palm to his neck he finds impossible warmth as an Adam's apple quickly pushes out, bobbing larger as Jeremy realizes that if there is a battle to be fought, that he is already losing.

The life he has lived has not primed Jeremy with any way to respond to this impossible new reality besides freezing up. His mind is caught between impulses to flee and to fly, his body can only react by beginning to hyperventilate. Heavy panicked breaths swiftly fill his chest as new impulses begin to grace his consciousness. Each uncontrollable inhale fills his torso with air, lungs growing as they are more than happy to expand beyond constraint. On top of his bony chest pecs begin to creep into existence, expanding quickly to match the still growing shoulders behind them. Memories of practices he can’t quite dispute begin to rise as his chest grows heavy with muscular weight. The shirt he threw on is quickly strained as muscle he could never dreamed to exercise begins to surge larger. An image of a man that is not him, that cannot be him sears itself into his mind.

Lost is a sea of memories of batting practices and uneventful hours upon hours of waiting in the outfield Jeremy begins to find familiarity if not affection towards the sport. He shakes his head through his stupor as strategies and concepts of the hitherto mind-numbing game begin to arise. Scraping together just enough of himself to slow his breathing and regain himself he looks down to see a body that has been painstakingly sculpted for the sport, America’s game. 

His shirt is totally ripped across every seam as a deliberate tear appears down the front, buttons dotting down it as a team logo, his team logo, begins to stain across the uniform. His heavier chest presses him into the table as he feels stitching appear in the back O’Hara, 11. Names that are almost more meaningful to him than Jeremy at this point. His coaches always call him by his last name anyway right? The mantra that this is a dream is the only thing holding his fragile mind together. Suddenly there is a burgeoning presence in his crotch and he sees a baseball lying squarely on his cock as it gets the message and quickly begins to force itself larger.

O’Hara bites his lip as blush begins to sneak through his still tanning face. The impossible fear of becoming something so contradictory to himself begins to pale with the mounting lust and desire for release rising from his ballooning crotch. He feels his balls quickly fill his briefs and his cock swiftly spills out of them down his pants leg. He cannot bring himself towards any reaction but rubbing his legs to try and distract himself, feeling the fabric of his shorts rapidly change and roughen. Growing elastic as his thighs begin to demand far more space than they could ever offer. He moans as a cup suddenly appears in his underpants, forcing his cock in an awkward position and hugging his still growing balls tight, of course for their own protection.

His mind hazy from lust and delirious as new hormones assail his waning mind a teammate comes to mind, yelling at him to get with it. Shit is he supposed to be on the field right now? He scratches at his head as his hair grows dark and dirty with dried sweat. His patch of pit hair expands as it releases his B.O. into the open air, heighting his erection even more. O’Hara goes to stand only to find his calves and feet cannot nearly support his monumental upper body.

He scowls down at them wondering how the fuck he ever let himself skip leg day to such a degree, he’s a fucking athlete right? An eye twitches and he is unable to begin to dispute the idea, flexing his pecs as he feels his calves begin to agree with him, quickly bloating with muscle. He screams in pain as they cramp to surge larger with the greatest haste yet. The pain breaks through to an immensely pleasurable soreness as they pound to the size of a titan’s legs. They  immediately fill his polyester pants, putting on size enough to ever show through, making it clear that O’Hara is more than a gem to his team. His team. Jeremy clutches his head again in one last attempt to recover. 

He opens his mouth to cry for help, only producing a deep moan as his feet expand, his no-show socks rocketing up his massive calves as his size seven shoes burst apart. Rubber and cloth fall to the floor as his toes shove through the front of them, his feet widening enough to be mistaken as flippers. His pupils shrink as he watches his hairy feet outgrow his new socks before the holes are stitched together by thicker cotton. His hands jump to his face in despair as a sob catches in his throat. His body pulses with the effort and expands yet again in every direction. Palms grow wider on his face and his mouth lulls open, he hears his pants stretch as his legs lengthen and grow heavier. His uniform tears as his shoulders grow wide with power enough to hit homers every time he’s at bat. 

His eyes twitch with effort one last time as he falls back into unconsciousness, the thought that this will be the last time he lets a ball hit him accompanies him as he crests into sleep. His conscious mind cannot dispute the new life that overcomes him in his dreams. Years of exerting himself to be the best at a sport which demands give and take. Exercising muscle in isolation to ensure optimization that could allow him to outperform in every regard. Sending pitches careening farther than his eyes can follow and sprinting to first base at speeds that the human eye would say is inhuman. He smirks in his rest as the cool air wicks the sweat off his ever-steaming body.

Suddenly Jeremy O’Hara awakens. Weird, he would’ve sworn he was in the middle of a game? His eyes glaze over becoming as dull as they are to be evermore, his slow one-track mind struggling to understand why he’s in a clinic. He springs up and makes for the door with a haste that he has never been able to muster before. Scratching at his crotch he throws on the size 15 cleats and wanders out into the stadium, not questioning why he’s not wearing a top. The music from the field blares in the busy hallway as he stumbles towards the dugout, smirking at the hordes of fans gawking at him. His massive hand struggling to cover the even larger bulge in his crotch as it pulses with their clearly lustful gazes. 

He hears his manager shout for him to get back to the team as he wanders around cluelessly. Forcing his way through the crowd he grabs O’Hara and berates him for his brainlessness, “I fuckin’ swear kid if you weren’t the goddamned best player I’d ever seen, fuck it the league’s ever seen, you’d not be worth the trouble.” O’Hara only caught part of that and from what he understood it was a complement. Hearing the game in play and seeing the green of the field O’Hara’s mind is suddenly preoccupied only with the game. Once more or for the first time it matters not. His coach watches as his bulge pulses in his pants and berates him to think with his real head before pushing him into the dugout.

O’Hara watches his teammates run across the field catching balls and strategizing the best place to throw them in turn. Chin upraised he just readies himself to join them on the field and show them what a real player looks like. Gritting his teeth as his opponents run the bases before the inning ends. His body vibrates with energy and an impossible eagerness to enter the playing field. He was going to show them what this sport is really about. What the best can really do. Hearing his walk-on music beginning to blare into the stadium he leaves the dugout to see a crowd larger than he can understand, feeling the vibration of their cheers in his chest as it bulges with even more power. He smirks as he prepares to perform, pointing his bat to the stadium, sure he’s got another home run ball soon to make its way to his fans.

No Such Thing As A Free Ride

One would do well to exercise caution when hitchhiking, don't want to end up going somewhere untoward. Hitchhiker to Bro muscle growth and personality change!

In other news I've been reblogging my favorite stories at my side blog if that's interesting to anyone! Feel free to send feedback or questions there if you have them!

Occam's Revue

As ever, Enjoy! -Occam

Jace always says that he bikes to work for environmental reasons, but in reality it’s just to save some cash. Cars are expensive after all and if he ever needs a ride somewhere it’s never too hard for him to get one, usually without even needing to use an app or anything. Case in point, not five minutes after losing a tire on his bike and beginning the dauntless task of signaling to cars he already has a bite. It’s not his first time hitchhiking, usually he gets a ride sooner than he expects but this was almost bizarrely fast. 

Pulling up just in front of Jace, coming to a stop in the shoulder, is a massive truck. He grimaces at the bumper stickers for a local infamously bro-y gym but decides to not turn his nose up and tosses his bike in the empty truck bed. Beggars should not look at gift horses and what not he grumbles to himself as he makes for the side door. Before getting in he takes note of the certainly illegal tint on the windows, the only thing visible through the blackness is a massive figure in the driver’s seat. He starts to reconsider before seeing a glint where the man’s eyes must be as a voice commands, “Get in.” He is overcome with darkness as the world goes black.

Jace feels his body buckled in and in motion before any of his other senses return. He hears gusts of wind soaring through a window, deciding he must be in the truck apparently speeding down the road. His eyes open blearily and he looks around the cabin, confirming his bike is in the back before inspecting the driver. Jace blushes as he sees a massive shirtless man with his eyes on the road. He watches as the veins in his arm bulge, tendons straining with every small movement of the wheel. Jace takes in every powerful line of the man before he squints, the edges of his memory slowly returning, what exactly just happened. He opens his mouth to speak but only a creaky groan comes from his dry throat.

This is enough to draw the driver’s attention, “Woah bro you up now? You totally conked out as soon as ya hopped in. Didn’t even have a chance to introduce myself, ‘S Chase!” He sends up the automatic windows before sticking out a hand for Jace to shake. He hesitates seeing a hand that would certainly more than encompass the whole of his own, grimacing as he concludes it surely can’t be clean. Nevertheless he meets it with a gulp and chokes out a, “Th- thanks for the ride Chase, I’m Jace.” Chase guffaws at their rhyming names as he continues speeding down the highway.

Jace then wonders where they’re driving to, Jace surely wouldn’t buckle up without knowing where they were going? But surely they didn't work something out if they’ve only just introduced themselves? He’s pretty sure they’re going in the direction of his home as he tries to dig deep in his memory, trying to understand what led him to get in this car. Before recollection can begin outright, with the windows now rolled up, Jace is absolutely overwhelmed as an oppressive body odor begins to fill the cabin of the truck. Any coherent thought in his mind vacates as he is assaulted by what must be this man’s abhorrent musk. He rachets his arm up to cover his nose and Chase turns and tilts his head, “Everything alright bro?”

Jace scowls as he looks back at the driver, it seems almost supernatural how horrid it suddenly smells in the car. He scans Chase’s figure looking for obvious sweat stains before balking as he sees the man completely dry despite each ongoing breath feeling like it is more musk than air. Putting two and two together Chase sniffs the air before guffawing once more, “Yooo bro, huhuh, you’re absolutely rank.” The idea is so ludicrous he doesn’t even think to consider it as a possibility. His arm rockets away from his nose as he opens his mouth to insult the meathead. He doesn’t get a chance to do so, feeling the telltale yet unfamiliar sensation of his arm sliding against the sweat still pouring out his armpits, his mind goes absolutely blank and his face burns crimson in embarrassment.

Chase, never scared of a little bro stink, pats him on the scrawny shoulder and laughs loudly, deliberately grating Jace might think were he able to form thoughts over the blood rushing through his head. “Must’ve been outside a while huh bro.” Jace’s eye twitches as the jock calling him bro cuts through his paralysis, he goes to sniff his pits to see just how bad the damage is, only to find it sickly alluring to him. He feels something catch in his chest, feeling almost giddy at getting off to his own pit stink. Deep laughter just as Chase has done a handful of times nearly escapes Jace, as instinctual and unconscious as a sneeze or yawn. He holds back hearing Chase ask a question, “Did you still wanna head home or get a session in at the gym first?”

Stupid question. Why would he ever want to go to the gym with some guy he doesn’t even really know, still he responds evasively, if not with kindness, given the inherent charity of the situation, “Oh! No thanks Chase, I’m, uh, a little tired and all.” Almost tackling on a I should shower to the end, the thought goes sour in his mind and he shakes it off. Chase purses his lips and shrugs, “Yeah that checks out ‘lil bro. You’d probably get in the way anyway with that long hair and all.” 

Jace feels insulted before he is torn on whether or not to be taken aback by that, as stated he doesn’t want to go so he should just let it fly. But something in his chest suddenly wants to speak up at the challenge. And what was up with that weird hair thing, he can just tie it up obviously. Jace pulls down the passenger mirror to look at his reflection, to tidy his hair or perhaps put it up to show the dunce how he’s surely able to go with him. No action follows as his reflection appears, seeing the long garish hair trailing down his back he is hit with a feeling of disdain, almost revulsion, at his long gaudy bleached hair. He puts a good deal of effort in each day taking care of his long locs, but all of a sudden, wouldn’t it be better if they were just gone? He’d look way better if his hair was like Chase’s. God he almost just wants to rip it out.

His hands rocket to his scalp and he itches with determination, as if this basal instinct was the only thing that matters to him. His long hair flies around the car no mind paid to its aesthetics or care, with each lash out the strands begin to shrink back into his scalp. Losing its carefully colored bleach and cleanliness as it rapidly sucks in, leaving behind a greasy close-cut that would do well to be hidden under a hat. His head swings back into the seat rest and he stares again at his own reflection, pride or something even more primal rises in his chest as he sees this new masc haircut framing his pretty boy face. Chase’s hand goes to hit him in the back of the head, “Nice haircut bro! You look like a real man now huhuh! You growin’ out some stubble to huh?”

Jace rubs his hair a few seconds longer watching as a few hairs start to poke out of his chin. In no time at all he’s got a messy yet deliberately maintained beard on his chin. He checks his angles in the mirror and fights back against the instinct to smirk at his own reflection. God what’s gotten into him. As if reading his mind Chase quickly interjects to keep him focused on his reflection, “your arms are lookin’ pretty tight too dude. Bet they’d look better without those tattoos though.”

Rather than retorting about his arms being sticks and bones or defending the tattoos that he spent a good deal of time stressing and dreaming over. The first thought that surfaces as his eyes stare into the small mirror is ‘what tattoos?’ His eyes glaze over as he stares at himself, his mouth lulling ajar, just short of drool pooling out as his arms rise to flex. Blotches that must be tattoos on his upper arm rapidly fade as he strains to make muscle rise on his biceps. Definitely not though as he’d never get tats, and distract from his definition? Psh- Muscle pounds out of his arms as the thought occurs to him. Veins pulse as a defined almost baseball sized hunk of meat bulges on his arm, no larger than a baseball. Jace finally gives in and smirks at himself as he is overcome with pride looking at his own reflection. Fuck his arm looks so fucking jacked.

Seeing Jace flex at himself Chase tries his luck again, “Still don’t want to hit the gym with me bruh?” Jace clicks his tongue and replies, “I literally just said no didn’t I br-” only just stopping short of calling Chase bro. Massive arms he may have but he certainly doesn’t have the head of a dullard on his shoulders. His shoulders. Meekly looking at his reflection, he can't help but focus on his small shoulders and chest, aching for more power. Chase brightens as a rare thought bursts into his mind, “Ohhh I get it bro, you’ve already been today haven’t you?”

Jace’s eyes widen as the words pour over him, already been to the gym today? His chest vibrates as muscle begins to form where there was no weight at all to speak of. His nipples rub against his shirt as pecs begin to stretch his tank top tight before straining it to its limits. He grunts as he feels the traps he only just wished for push out of his bony back, the straps over his shoulders cutting into his now expanded shoulders, as the seat belt tightly hugs the chest still pushing out larger. It is not long at all before his shirt rips off altogether, Chase shouts praise for his bro but the gears begin to slow to a crawl in Jace’s mind as he feels the heat radiating off his impossibly growing body.

Like a computer overheating, every process in his mind slows as he struggles not to just shut down in the face of this, this. He cannot waste effort thinking about what horrors are happening to him. He just needs to, ugh stop it. He just- He just needs to flex, doesn't he? His body does so whether that’s what he wanted or not. Vibrating with power and strain as whatever resistance remains in his mind begins to trickle away as he feels a pressure grow in his crotch. Jace feels his thighs strain his pants and he kicks off his shoes before they burst entirely, revealing his incredibly holey socks and loosing his inhuman foot odor into the car. No chance to react as his core rapidly tightens, abs pounding and putting on weight as from head to toe he hardens and grows tight with power.

He burps loudly, tasting something unfamiliar and chalky. It is immediately followed up by a laugh rather than the shame that something inside him desperately fights to assign it. It is met with a side-eye from the driver before he too bursts out laughing, “Brooo I thought you said you didn’t wanna get pumped with me! Why’d you have pre then?” Jace blushes as he looks down at his crotch, seeing his cock pump larger than it ever has before, though he tilts his head in confusion as he doesn’t see a pre-stain, yet at least. Jace turns to look at Chase in sheepish confusion before the man responds, “Huhuh, pre-workout you doofus, stop thinking with your balls for a sec bruh, hah!”

Jace smiles to himself, pleased that Chase found him funny even if it was at his expense. Why would he be with his bro if he wasn’t going to the gym, he did drink pre-workout like his bro said? Jace feels himself start to get a headache as he strains to think, Chase’s eyes fill with pity before darkening with a hunger as he pats Jace on the back, “ay chill chill bro, you don’t need to come if you don’t want to.” Jace’s eyes burn and his nose flares as he grunts. He does want to go to the gym, now. He needs to more than anything. His mind is filled to bursting with the desire to spend time pumping iron with his bro at the gym. Chase smirks as he watches the fire leave his passenger’s eyes and they glaze over. Clearly no original thoughts will be flashing through his mind, perhaps no thoughts at all anymore. 

He speaks up and Jace looks over like a dog to his owner, “While we’re on the way Jace, would you mind driving the rest of the way so I can wank one out real quick? You know how I get in there and I don’t want to lose it while I’m lifting bruh, huhuh.” Jace nods eagerly looking for any way to please his bro. He buckles up, tossing his leg over the wheel as Chase hops in the back. Images of his bro doing this before fill Jace's mind, alongside just as many of the two of them jacking off back there together. He shakes his head as he feels his cock start to stir in his pants, inching further down the leg of his shorts. He smirks as he thinks about their workout, and more importantly the fun they are to have together immediately after as he smells Chase’s odor start to mingle with his own. No thoughts are spared on the bike sitting in the back as it shifts to a dirty workout bag, why would he need a bike anyway when he never leaves his bro’s side.

The New Gym Bro

Beau was antsy as he was driving over to the gym, he had just gotten over a bad cold and finally felt good enough to return to the gym. You see the gym Beau goes to has something special about it, it is where he gets to see his gym crush. Upon entered the gym Beau realized something was off, the cute little twunk that worked at the front desk was now a buff jock with a porn stache, looking at himself in his reflection and flexing his arms. “Uhhhh hi do you know where the membership card scanner is?” Beau asked politely, “Huhuhuh oh broooooo” the hunky receptionist moronically spoke “ We don’t do uhhh memberships anymore broooo! New uhhhhh management brooo, everyone is welcome nowwww” The receptionist flexed his arms again. “Oh ummm okay thank you!” Beau cheerfully said, walking past the front desk towards the locker room, that’s when he smelled it. Wafting through the air was the smell of sweat and B.O., very normal for a gym but today it was something else, something strong, something potent and offensive to a normal nose. Beau being grossed out just simply groaned to himself and thought to himself, “I guess letting anyone in brought in more unhygienic teens”. Upon entering the locker room it was quite empty but he saw two guys round a row of lockers and start coming towards him, both pretty hunky, with porn staches and mullets. One had his arm draped over the other’s shoulders as they approached and the other looked dazed, almost like he had been drugged, as the two guys passed Beau smelled the most rancid smell ever pouring out of the guys and polluting the air. Beau covered his nose with the collar of his shirt and the not dazed looking guy said as they passed “What? Huhuh cant handle the smell of real men brochacho? That’ll change soon enough huhuhuh!”. Paying little mind to the weird comment, Beau went to a locker and got changed and went back out to the gym.

After working out for a little over an hour and a half, he was getting fed up by the manly stench filling the entire building, getting off of the treadmill, Beau grabbed his stuff and began walking back towards the locker room. That’s when it happened, Beau heard from behind “Yo bro! Wait up” and then felt a sweaty hand slam down on his shoulder, “What is it?!” Beau said a little annoyed that he just got slapped on the shoulder with a sweat drenched palm. Turning around, Beau’s brain went haywire, standing in front of him was his gym crush, and he was talking to him! “Huhuhuh brooo I uhhhhhhh couldn’t help but see you were leavin’!” His crush said. It took Beau a second to realize whi this guy was, it was his gym crush! But he looked so different, he was beefier and he resembled the receptionist and the two guys in the locker room more than he resembled himself from two weeks ago. “Oh yea I was about to head home” Beau responded, “Do you think I can like uhhhh huhuhuh interest you in doing a set with me homie?”, wanting to take his crush up on the offer but knowing he too drained to do it without embarrassing himself Beau politely declined. “Awww man” Beau’s crush said dejectedly, “I really wanted to do something with you! Uhhhh do you think I could maybe take you out to dinner then?”. Shocked that his crush wanted to wine and dine him Beau couldn’t muster a response for a second, but then he just nodded and shyly said “I’d like that, I would like that a lot”, his crush grinned and joyfully and boisterously responded “ALRIGHT! THATS AWESOME I'M SO HYPED BROOO! Oh my name is Maverick by the way let me give you my number homie”. Upon getting his number Beau made his way to the locker room absolutely giddy and unable to stop thinking about his (hopefully) soon to be boyfriend. Beau got changed and was about to close the locker when he heard from an approaching familiar voice, “Oh one last thing before I can take you out on the town!”. Beau turned around and was face to face with Maverick, maybe it was because the space they were in before was bigger or because the gym already had a cacophony of foul stench hanging in the air but Beau suddenly just noticed how rank Maverick smelled, especially since Maverick just raised his arm above his head. Maverick released a puff of stench from his unwashed armpit right into Beau’s face, coughing, Beau covered his nose and mouth, “Nuh uh uh brooo” Maverick proclaimed, “Let the stink help you let it helped me”. Not understanding what Maverick was talking about Beau just wanted to leave and no longer take Maverick up on the date offer, but suddenly he watched Maverick’s hand slink to the back of his head and Beau then felt as Maverick violently and suddenly pulled him into Maverick’s reeking pit. Catching a big whiff on accident Beau felt as taking a hit straight from the source made him feel fuzzy everywhere. As he slowly lost control of his body Beau heard Maverick utter, “Not much to change with you broooo huhuh, makes my job easier, normally having to transform the nerds and weaklings takes so long!”

Trying to push back and resist, Beau was doing well and probably would’ve eventually escaped his funky prison if it wasn't for the fact that Maverick’s man-stink was essentially brainwashing Beau’s brain into liking the stink and craving more of it. Beau, against his own will, stopped struggling for his freedom and submitted himself completely to Maverick’s B.O. That's when it started, unlike other people Maverick had transformed, Beau was already quite the perfect specimen of masculinity, the only issue was that he didn’t follow the gym’s new dress code or follow the gym’s strict rules on fragrances. Maverick was going to help Beau fall in line. Beau felt his feet grow a bit, becoming cramped in his sneakers and then worse than that they got itchy, really itchy, at first it seemed like a random thing but then the itch kept growing and growing, refusing to stop. As his feet grew bigger and increasingly itchy, Beau felt his armpits do the same. Reaching into his left pit with his left hand, Beau forced his hand into his newly minted jungle of foul-smelling hair, just like a dumb ape. He felt his crotch get really itchy as well, with his left hand still in his own fetid armpit, Beau sent his right hand down to quell the itch in his pants. By the time he started scratching his crotch, he felt a forest of pubes coming in, a thick, curly, forest that reeked of sweat and cum. No matter how much he scratched Beau couldn’t stop the itchy feeling even a little bit, moving his beefy right hand down from his bush and onto his shaft, he began to slowly play with his fuckstick. Maverick watched jovially as he saw Beau reach the point of no return, once a man starts jerking it he is too far gone in the transformation to be saved…or so Maverick thought.

Suddenly as he was touching himself, Beau pushed away from Maverick, freeing himself from the pit reeking of decay. “Huhuhuh woah no one has resisted me this far into their transformation bro! You are something else!” Maverick cockily said. Beau, still affected by the pit funk clouding his brain, was unable to respond. “Well, it looks like I’ve been bested bro! You win!” Maverick said in the same cocky tone. Beau, now regaining more control as the fog wore off, retorted with “You…are…such a…freak!”, “That might be true,” said Maverick, “But do me a favor…smell your fingers”, Beau, trying to resist the influence that Maverick and his stink still had over him hid his fingers away in a clenched fist but, as he lost the battle of will, Beau unclenched his left hand, brought it underneath his nose, and took a big whiff. Feeling the malodorous scent of his own armpit rushing through his head, Beau returned his free will and walked back to Maverick, “Huhuhuh you are so weak bro! Welcome back to manhood tho!” Maverick announced as he watched Beau’s head slump down. Leading him to a full length mirror, Maverick made Beau look at himself and said to him “Look at you, tried to fight your destiny and now you are even weaker than before, how stupid. I hope you know that for your insolence, i'm gonna make you the stinkiest, dumbest, most incompetent gym bro I have ever made. You are gonna smell so nauseating and vile that you are gonna run off all of your friends and lovers, and you are gonna be so idiotic that you are gonna need someone to watch over you and keep you safe and happy. But don't worry, I love your stink and I don't mind watching over you, especially once I strip you down.” Maverick watched as Beau’s shorts grew a mountain in them as he heard what he was about to finally become. “Good boy,” Maverick said as he groped Beau’s meat stick.

Grabbing the back of his head for a second time, Maverick took Beau’s head and stuck it right back into his stinking pit. Beau’s transformation, beginning where it left off, started to force a mustache out of his top lip. A torrent of thick, dark hair pushed out of his upper lip creating a porn stache perfect for a 70’s porn star. Being so close to the Maverick’s musty pit, Beau’s new stache became tainted, stinking to high heaven with Maverick’s pit funk, constantly dumbing Beau down as he will now always be forced to huff the funky stench. Beau returned his hand back to his long fuckstick as he began to play with it again, just in time for his brain to melt into the cum churning in his big smelly balls. As Beau huffed more and more of Maverick’s armpit, his mind began to fade, more and more of his memories dissipated and dissolved, not even being replaced, just leaving an empty space in his mind as to keep him as dumb and empty as possible and the same thing began to happen to his intellect, leaving Beau with the intelligence of a 9th grader but leaving all the knowledge Beau has on how to pleasure a man fully intact.

Beau, completely transformed, began to feel his balls grow too full to comfortably hang normally, he knew he was about to abdicate his seed. Gaining more and more pressure, Beau couldn’t keep it from happening, all at once he shot out the biggest load he ever had right into his shorts. As a huge wet spot appeared, Maverick finally released Beau from his funky armpit, not like the locker room smelled much better at that point. Maverick kissed Beau and said “I'm so glad to find the perfect new gym partner and a perfect new boyfriend all in one tight package, especially one that smells as putrid as you!”, flexing his arms, Beau sniffed both is pits and guffawed like the big oaf he just became.

Adjusting To His New Reality

There’s just something so incredibly erotic yet wrong to be licking and tasting his jock neighbor’s armpits, Finneas thought to himself. Not that he had any plans of ever stopping the worship of his new body. His asshole of a neighbor had not only been a huge pain in his ass since his wealthy parents moved in next door, but also quickly become the object of his desires.

Now, the Chronivac had completely erased his old body and life from existence, and quickly transferred all that belonged to the former jock to him. His accumulated wealth, his perfect fit body… even his dank messy room…

Gone were the posters of video games and music groups, replaced by pictures of body builders, cars, and busty blonde women. His music instruments, his closet, now being fully replaced by work out equipment and work out clothes instead.

Surprisingly yet fortunately though, only his room had been affected. Stepping outside showed his normal house, and downstairs his parents were still as kind and humble as before, even though their pockets were now overflown with cash.

And as he would later find out, everyone now recognized him as Finneas, the rich jock. Part of the school orchestra, but also a main player in the school’s football team. Loved, respected, and lusted by literally everyone.

For now though, he just wanted to play with himself. Feel, smell, and taste what his new perfect body had to offer. Maybe he’d even invite the hot straight QB over to help him worship his body. After all, with the Chronivac in his hand… anything was possible…

No Such Thing As A Free Ride

One would do well to exercise caution when hitchhiking, don't want to end up going somewhere untoward. Hitchhiker to Bro muscle growth and personality change!

In other news I've been reblogging my favorite stories at my side blog if that's interesting to anyone! Feel free to send feedback or questions there if you have them!

Occam's Revue

As ever, Enjoy! -Occam

Jace always says that he bikes to work for environmental reasons, but in reality it’s just to save some cash. Cars are expensive after all and if he ever needs a ride somewhere it’s never too hard for him to get one, usually without even needing to use an app or anything. Case in point, not five minutes after losing a tire on his bike and beginning the dauntless task of signaling to cars he already has a bite. It’s not his first time hitchhiking, usually he gets a ride sooner than he expects but this was almost bizarrely fast. 

Pulling up just in front of Jace, coming to a stop in the shoulder, is a massive truck. He grimaces at the bumper stickers for a local infamously bro-y gym but decides to not turn his nose up and tosses his bike in the empty truck bed. Beggars should not look at gift horses and what not he grumbles to himself as he makes for the side door. Before getting in he takes note of the certainly illegal tint on the windows, the only thing visible through the blackness is a massive figure in the driver’s seat. He starts to reconsider before seeing a glint where the man’s eyes must be as a voice commands, “Get in.” He is overcome with darkness as the world goes black.

Jace feels his body buckled in and in motion before any of his other senses return. He hears gusts of wind soaring through a window, deciding he must be in the truck apparently speeding down the road. His eyes open blearily and he looks around the cabin, confirming his bike is in the back before inspecting the driver. Jace blushes as he sees a massive shirtless man with his eyes on the road. He watches as the veins in his arm bulge, tendons straining with every small movement of the wheel. Jace takes in every powerful line of the man before he squints, the edges of his memory slowly returning, what exactly just happened. He opens his mouth to speak but only a creaky groan comes from his dry throat.

This is enough to draw the driver’s attention, “Woah bro you up now? You totally conked out as soon as ya hopped in. Didn’t even have a chance to introduce myself, ‘S Chase!” He sends up the automatic windows before sticking out a hand for Jace to shake. He hesitates seeing a hand that would certainly more than encompass the whole of his own, grimacing as he concludes it surely can’t be clean. Nevertheless he meets it with a gulp and chokes out a, “Th- thanks for the ride Chase, I’m Jace.” Chase guffaws at their rhyming names as he continues speeding down the highway.

Jace then wonders where they’re driving to, Jace surely wouldn’t buckle up without knowing where they were going? But surely they didn't work something out if they’ve only just introduced themselves? He’s pretty sure they’re going in the direction of his home as he tries to dig deep in his memory, trying to understand what led him to get in this car. Before recollection can begin outright, with the windows now rolled up, Jace is absolutely overwhelmed as an oppressive body odor begins to fill the cabin of the truck. Any coherent thought in his mind vacates as he is assaulted by what must be this man’s abhorrent musk. He rachets his arm up to cover his nose and Chase turns and tilts his head, “Everything alright bro?”

Jace scowls as he looks back at the driver, it seems almost supernatural how horrid it suddenly smells in the car. He scans Chase’s figure looking for obvious sweat stains before balking as he sees the man completely dry despite each ongoing breath feeling like it is more musk than air. Putting two and two together Chase sniffs the air before guffawing once more, “Yooo bro, huhuh, you’re absolutely rank.” The idea is so ludicrous he doesn’t even think to consider it as a possibility. His arm rockets away from his nose as he opens his mouth to insult the meathead. He doesn’t get a chance to do so, feeling the telltale yet unfamiliar sensation of his arm sliding against the sweat still pouring out his armpits, his mind goes absolutely blank and his face burns crimson in embarrassment.

Chase, never scared of a little bro stink, pats him on the scrawny shoulder and laughs loudly, deliberately grating Jace might think were he able to form thoughts over the blood rushing through his head. “Must’ve been outside a while huh bro.” Jace’s eye twitches as the jock calling him bro cuts through his paralysis, he goes to sniff his pits to see just how bad the damage is, only to find it sickly alluring to him. He feels something catch in his chest, feeling almost giddy at getting off to his own pit stink. Deep laughter just as Chase has done a handful of times nearly escapes Jace, as instinctual and unconscious as a sneeze or yawn. He holds back hearing Chase ask a question, “Did you still wanna head home or get a session in at the gym first?”

Stupid question. Why would he ever want to go to the gym with some guy he doesn’t even really know, still he responds evasively, if not with kindness, given the inherent charity of the situation, “Oh! No thanks Chase, I’m, uh, a little tired and all.” Almost tackling on a I should shower to the end, the thought goes sour in his mind and he shakes it off. Chase purses his lips and shrugs, “Yeah that checks out ‘lil bro. You’d probably get in the way anyway with that long hair and all.” 

Jace feels insulted before he is torn on whether or not to be taken aback by that, as stated he doesn’t want to go so he should just let it fly. But something in his chest suddenly wants to speak up at the challenge. And what was up with that weird hair thing, he can just tie it up obviously. Jace pulls down the passenger mirror to look at his reflection, to tidy his hair or perhaps put it up to show the dunce how he’s surely able to go with him. No action follows as his reflection appears, seeing the long garish hair trailing down his back he is hit with a feeling of disdain, almost revulsion, at his long gaudy bleached hair. He puts a good deal of effort in each day taking care of his long locs, but all of a sudden, wouldn’t it be better if they were just gone? He’d look way better if his hair was like Chase’s. God he almost just wants to rip it out.

His hands rocket to his scalp and he itches with determination, as if this basal instinct was the only thing that matters to him. His long hair flies around the car no mind paid to its aesthetics or care, with each lash out the strands begin to shrink back into his scalp. Losing its carefully colored bleach and cleanliness as it rapidly sucks in, leaving behind a greasy close-cut that would do well to be hidden under a hat. His head swings back into the seat rest and he stares again at his own reflection, pride or something even more primal rises in his chest as he sees this new masc haircut framing his pretty boy face. Chase’s hand goes to hit him in the back of the head, “Nice haircut bro! You look like a real man now huhuh! You growin’ out some stubble to huh?”

Jace rubs his hair a few seconds longer watching as a few hairs start to poke out of his chin. In no time at all he’s got a messy yet deliberately maintained beard on his chin. He checks his angles in the mirror and fights back against the instinct to smirk at his own reflection. God what’s gotten into him. As if reading his mind Chase quickly interjects to keep him focused on his reflection, “your arms are lookin’ pretty tight too dude. Bet they’d look better without those tattoos though.”

Rather than retorting about his arms being sticks and bones or defending the tattoos that he spent a good deal of time stressing and dreaming over. The first thought that surfaces as his eyes stare into the small mirror is ‘what tattoos?’ His eyes glaze over as he stares at himself, his mouth lulling ajar, just short of drool pooling out as his arms rise to flex. Blotches that must be tattoos on his upper arm rapidly fade as he strains to make muscle rise on his biceps. Definitely not though as he’d never get tats, and distract from his definition? Psh- Muscle pounds out of his arms as the thought occurs to him. Veins pulse as a defined almost baseball sized hunk of meat bulges on his arm, no larger than a baseball. Jace finally gives in and smirks at himself as he is overcome with pride looking at his own reflection. Fuck his arm looks so fucking jacked.

Seeing Jace flex at himself Chase tries his luck again, “Still don’t want to hit the gym with me bruh?” Jace clicks his tongue and replies, “I literally just said no didn’t I br-” only just stopping short of calling Chase bro. Massive arms he may have but he certainly doesn’t have the head of a dullard on his shoulders. His shoulders. Meekly looking at his reflection, he can't help but focus on his small shoulders and chest, aching for more power. Chase brightens as a rare thought bursts into his mind, “Ohhh I get it bro, you’ve already been today haven’t you?”

Jace’s eyes widen as the words pour over him, already been to the gym today? His chest vibrates as muscle begins to form where there was no weight at all to speak of. His nipples rub against his shirt as pecs begin to stretch his tank top tight before straining it to its limits. He grunts as he feels the traps he only just wished for push out of his bony back, the straps over his shoulders cutting into his now expanded shoulders, as the seat belt tightly hugs the chest still pushing out larger. It is not long at all before his shirt rips off altogether, Chase shouts praise for his bro but the gears begin to slow to a crawl in Jace’s mind as he feels the heat radiating off his impossibly growing body.

Like a computer overheating, every process in his mind slows as he struggles not to just shut down in the face of this, this. He cannot waste effort thinking about what horrors are happening to him. He just needs to, ugh stop it. He just- He just needs to flex, doesn't he? His body does so whether that’s what he wanted or not. Vibrating with power and strain as whatever resistance remains in his mind begins to trickle away as he feels a pressure grow in his crotch. Jace feels his thighs strain his pants and he kicks off his shoes before they burst entirely, revealing his incredibly holey socks and loosing his inhuman foot odor into the car. No chance to react as his core rapidly tightens, abs pounding and putting on weight as from head to toe he hardens and grows tight with power.

He burps loudly, tasting something unfamiliar and chalky. It is immediately followed up by a laugh rather than the shame that something inside him desperately fights to assign it. It is met with a side-eye from the driver before he too bursts out laughing, “Brooo I thought you said you didn’t wanna get pumped with me! Why’d you have pre then?” Jace blushes as he looks down at his crotch, seeing his cock pump larger than it ever has before, though he tilts his head in confusion as he doesn’t see a pre-stain, yet at least. Jace turns to look at Chase in sheepish confusion before the man responds, “Huhuh, pre-workout you doofus, stop thinking with your balls for a sec bruh, hah!”

Jace smiles to himself, pleased that Chase found him funny even if it was at his expense. Why would he be with his bro if he wasn’t going to the gym, he did drink pre-workout like his bro said? Jace feels himself start to get a headache as he strains to think, Chase’s eyes fill with pity before darkening with a hunger as he pats Jace on the back, “ay chill chill bro, you don’t need to come if you don’t want to.” Jace’s eyes burn and his nose flares as he grunts. He does want to go to the gym, now. He needs to more than anything. His mind is filled to bursting with the desire to spend time pumping iron with his bro at the gym. Chase smirks as he watches the fire leave his passenger’s eyes and they glaze over. Clearly no original thoughts will be flashing through his mind, perhaps no thoughts at all anymore. 

He speaks up and Jace looks over like a dog to his owner, “While we’re on the way Jace, would you mind driving the rest of the way so I can wank one out real quick? You know how I get in there and I don’t want to lose it while I’m lifting bruh, huhuh.” Jace nods eagerly looking for any way to please his bro. He buckles up, tossing his leg over the wheel as Chase hops in the back. Images of his bro doing this before fill Jace's mind, alongside just as many of the two of them jacking off back there together. He shakes his head as he feels his cock start to stir in his pants, inching further down the leg of his shorts. He smirks as he thinks about their workout, and more importantly the fun they are to have together immediately after as he smells Chase’s odor start to mingle with his own. No thoughts are spared on the bike sitting in the back as it shifts to a dirty workout bag, why would he need a bike anyway when he never leaves his bro’s side.

Protein Rich

You couldn't believe your eyes. Your stoner roomate Hugh had been telling you about this new expirimental pre workout he had been taking. He had started working out cause noone wanted to date him. He told you " I look super dorky and I'm not smart, so might as well do something about the thing I can change." The results were.... there... a bit more filled out shirts, his ass had a slight jiggle.

But then, one day, he called you to the living room. As you walked in you noticed his pants around his ankles and immediately turned around. "Yo what the hell man... put your pants on."

"Uhhh... oh yeah ... I will but look, I noticed some small text on the bottom of the jar, and... well look."

You turned back around, seeing him shuffle towards you, his pants still on the floor. He handed you the jar and pointed at where you should read.

"Advised to use with High concentrations of protein." You read out loud. You looked up at your roomie and frowed. "Okay, so what youre gonna eat alot of steak now?"

Hugh grinned and turned to the counter and grabbed a cup of milk he has poured. "Nah I'm just gonna mix it with this."

You rolled your eyes. "Hugh, milk contains calcium, not protein. Its good for your bones, not your muscles."

"Oh... but this isn't milk... well not from a cow at least." He said with a wink, before dumping two scoops of formula in it and stiring it.

"What do you mean?" You asked confused as he started to chug the whole glass in a single go.

Your eye widened as his shirt slowly started to strain against his chest. As the mixture was sliding down his throat, his body was starting to grow in every direction. His once oversized shirt was almost plastered on his massive torso.

The countertop was hiding most of it, but you noticed him slowly getting taller, his shirt riding up his midriff as he raised his arm to finish the drink. You slowly walked around the kitchen to see that his formerly skinny legs were now giant trunks of muscle, with a massive bubble butt to boot.

Hugh slammed the glass back on the counter and let out a massive belch. A cloud of protein powder and... oh was that...

"Cum, I used my own cum. Hassa lotta protein ya know." Hugh smirked and raised his massive arms and flexed. A whaft of sweat and weed spread through the room. As it hit your nostrils you started to feel a bit dizzy, your high functioning braincells coming to a screeching halt. You slowly began to make your way to Hugh and ran a hand down his sculptured chest.

He looked at you with a smile and pulled you up against him. "Ahhh this is what they meant about attraction. I get why they call it Bi-Pro now.' You barely heard him. Your hands had started to feel up his massive physique, squeezing every muscle they could find.

"Hey bro... you wanna look like this too? You wanna feel and smell amazing like me?" You slowly nodded and he grinned. He reached over to the counter and grabbed a spoonfull of formula and pressed it against your lips. "Open up bro, this is all for you"

You opened your mouth and let him pour the dry powder into it. He poured two more in before he closed your mouth and you immediately swallowed. It went down surprisingly easy.

Hugh then picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. "I'm gonna give you the time of your life bro." He carried you into his bedroom, and threw you down on the mattras. He pulled of his tight shirt, and you could finally appreciate his full stature. His massive pecs were dripping with sweat, and casting a shadow on his slim waist due to them pushing out so far. His sculpted abs and hard V-Line were gistening in the sun that came through his window.

Your eyes traveled down to his groin and you saw the largest dick you have ever seen. Now granted your heterosexuality didn't really make it so you had seen many, but his was one of remarkable size. He smiled softly and leaned down to take off your sweatpants to reveal your strained underwear, damp in precum. "Goddamn... it really works. You know, I have always wanted to hit it off with you, but you were so straight, I wouldn't dare ask."

He leaned down even more and put his lips around your dripping bulge. You let out a stifled moan as you felt his mouth nibble on your hard package. Before you could do anything else, he turned you over and turned your tighty whities into a make-shift jockstrap by tearing open the back, revealing your bare ass. He chuckled and groped his rock hard python. It was glistening with pre, which hes scooped up and lathered on his thick index finger. He then started to probe your hole with his lubed up finger, and gently began to enter. You couldn't help but moan and squirm. His singular finger was almost enough to send you over the edge, and the thought of his massive dick entering you, added on to that, creating a vicious cycle of edging you couldn't seem to get out of.

After your hole was sufficiently loosend, Hugh climbed ontop of the bed and pressed his thick member up against your hole. "Im gonna go in now baby, let me know if it hurts."

You nodded, biting down on a pillow. He then promptly plunged his whole length into your ass, making you scream in overwhelming pleasure. His rod hit all the right spots inside of you, and he hadn't even started thrusting yet. As he started doing just that, your whole body started to squirm. You had never bottomed before, but somehow you knew exactly how to make your boyfriend cum. Wait... boyfriend... what...? You wanted to disagree with your weird new thought and memories, but your brain still hadn't restarted, so you just giddily accepted this turn of events and continued riding Hugh's dick.

His rough hands ran across your slim back, sending shivers down your spine, which made your hole flex. You could hear Hugh whisper behind you: "Fuck... im gonna..." and you quickly started to move your ass on the rhythm of his thrusts, speeding up the process even more. Hugh groaned: "Fuck... wait baby ... shit I'm.... I'm gonna cum". As those were exactly the words you were hoping for, you continued milking his dick as you felt his dick twitch inside your hole, which send you over the edge. A few ropes of cum shot on the sheets, and you let out a long moan as your balls were emptied.

"Fuck me... that was so good Hugh" you looked over your shoulder to see Hugh with his eyes shut, biting his lip. "I... I can't...HOLD IT!!!". And with that Hugh's massive balls emptied their huge load into your hole. Rope after rope, thrust after thrust hit your insides, the warm liquid rushing into your stomach.

Hugh just kept shooting, and from the feeling you got you knew he wasn't shooting blanks, but... you didn't feel full. He had been shooting for at least a minute, every release at least on par with the previous one, sometimes even stronger. But your stomach felt as if it had just began getting filled.

Then, you felt a rumbling in your cum filled stomach. You looked down and saw your slightly pudgy stomach suck in. The soft rolls turned into rows of hard cobble, while your eyes widened shortly, before your mind completely accepted this change as well. You turned around on Hughs dick so you could more comfortably look at your changing body, and look your baby in the eyes as it happend. The rumbling traveled to your legs, which quickly went from small twigs to thick skullcrushers. Your feet grew a few sizes to match, and immediately started to eminate a similar stench as the one keeping you in a horny trance. As the rumbling traveled back upwards it passed your still penetrated ass, which quickly doubled in size. Hugh groaned again ass your new massive bubblebutt squished his hard rod even more. The rumbling continued upward, your waist slimming down some more, as your pecs began to drop. They started to hang, while filling up nicely with muslce. You couldn't help but run a hand across your massive tits, which were super sensitive to the touch. You gave them a soft squeeze and a loud moan escaped your lips. Your shoulders started to bulge outwards, fixing your bad posture and giving you a slightly intimidating stature. Your arms grew to proportion, which you admired by flexing your guns at Hugh. Your formerly smooth pits quickly grew saturated with a generous patch of hair, out of which came a familiar stench.

Your neck widened, and your traps started to slightly rise. Your face contorted as the rumbling made its way to your head. Your features began to bubble and shift. The acne practically fell from your face, while your big nose and braced teeth started to shift. Your nose shrunk, but broadened sligtly. Meanwhile your braces started to break off your teeth, revealing a perfect white grin. You parted your now plump lips and a massive thick tongue slithered out. Hugh grinned as he leaned forward, dick still in your ass, and started to make out with you, your tongue quickly asserting dominance in his mouth. Your dark brown eyes shifted to a cold grey. Your brows fixed themselves, thickening somewhat and grooming themselves to perfection. Your hair ruffled itself, a short but slightly messy style, a stark opposite of the usually slicked back style you had. A slight tingle in your arm made you part lips with Hugh , just in time to see your new tattoo take shape. As a final touch your milky white skin got blessed with a sunkissed tan, which fit your new more outgoing personality.

As you two layed there, revealing in the afterglow of another successful fuck session, Hugh climbed off of you, and smirked. "I fucking love you Theo... "

You chuckled. "I know ,mi amor, now hurry , you don't wanna be late for class"

Hugh grinned as he grabbed his tight T-shirt from the floor, the sweat pants that you had just worn , and some flipflops that were next to the bed. He quickly put them all on and grabbed a joint from his desk, which he promptly lit and blew a cloud of musk in your face.

"Alright T, I'll see you after class, don't smoke everything we got"

You stifled a laugh. "Wasn't it you who smoked all of our last supply'

You could see Hughs face turn red in the dim light of the room.

"Shaddup.." You let out a bellowing laugh, and you took the joint from between his fingers.

"Vamos, Hugh you're stalling, you're gonna be late"

Hugh smiles and blows you a kiss, before grabbing his back and making his way to the door. "Love you!"

"Te amo!"

You smiled as you took a long drag of the joint, your brain never turning on again in your dimly lit stoner sex den.

_________________________________________

Hugh rubbed his small pouch as he walked to class. He loved a quick fuck session with his boyfriend Theodore, especially before class. It gave him just enough focus to get through, even when buzzed on weed.

As he walked into the lecture hall, his phone buzzed. He saw a snap chat notification from Theo. As soon as he opened it all blood rushed to his dick. There he was. His boyfriends perfectly sculpted, columbian body, perfectly seated for a teasy thirsttrap.

"Fuckk..." Hugh covered his massive bulge as he quickly went to the back, ready for an in class jerk session.

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

================================================

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.

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!

Mexican Flavor

“God, what is that smell?” Paul muttered as he closed the door to his apartment. He’d known his roommate Henry was having some guests over, but he could have never expected to casually stroll into this gas chamber. The whole place reeked of a Mexican restaurant’s bathroom, the kind of restaurant that could leave someone on the toilet for hours. And to make matters worse, it almost seemed like there was a noticeable haze to the room too. Paul didn’t know what could’ve caused the apartment to hold a visible spore cloud. He’d have to find Henry to get to the bottom of this.

Tossing his work loafers and unknotting his tie, Paul hurriedly made his way over to his roommate’s room. He just wanted to get undressed and take a nap after a long day at the firm, still having a party to attend later that night. Henry had mentioned he was going to have some people over from his Dungeons and Dragons club. It wasn’t their usual day of the week, but there was a new guy who wanted to join. Some foreign-exchange student from Mexico or something, who according to Henry did not physically fit in with the rest of the group. Not the racial detail, but the fact that apparently the Mexican student was some jock who completely dwarfed all the nerds. Paul chuckled when Henry had told him that, imagining his roommate’s dramatization.

“Henry?” Paul knocked as he approached the bedroom. Paul didn’t hear a response, but he noticed that the odorous cloud did seem to be seeping out from underneath the door. Sighing, he called out Henry’s name again. When a reply didn’t come back again, Paul lifted the hem of his shirt over his nose and carefully walked in. Henry’s room looked the same as before; same Star Trek posters, same lame figurines from some video game, same tidy room overall. Well, except for the large man who was strewn across Henry’s bed. 

Lying on his stomach was a muscled Latino that Paul assumed had been the source of this stench. He was happily zonked out, snoring loudly. Paul cautiously moved closer, confused as to who this stranger was in Henry’s room. He was much bigger than the white nerd had ever been. This man was at least half a foot taller with every body part noticeably greater. Plumper thighs, heavier pouch, wider feet. The man was covered in workout gear that by the look of it had very recently been used. But when Paul began investigating the Latino’s handsome, caramel face, he was shocked to notice that the man was wearing glasses. Henry’s glasses.

BBRRRPPPTTT!

Inhaling generously, Paul blinked as he reevaluated the situation. Of course Enrique was wearing his glasses; he practically couldn’t see without them. The glasses were ironic really, being the only thing about his Mexican roommate that could be considered “nerdy”. Enrique’s life was built around fitness, besides eating good food and getting laid. When the foreign jock wasn’t working out, he’d be at home slobbing it up or in his bedroom with some stranger. So Paul wasn’t surprised when he came home to the apartment smelling like a Mexican restaurant’s bathroom. Enrique had said he was going for a workout after all with his güeyes, some other Mexican bro-types. 

But after all these years, Paul couldn’t remember Enrique’s funk being this bad, let alone his gas. Enrique had always had pretty bad body odor, something he blamed on his “proper Latino diet” and his frequent visits to the gym. Enrique even tried to convince Paul that there was evidence by how his body smelled, being that there was a little “Mexican flavor” to it. Paul never bought it, but now that he was in a concentrated room full of Enrique’s fart fumes he couldn’t deny there was an element that made the back of his throat and eyes tickle. He didn’t want to, but Paul had to wake Enrique to solve this (literally) visible smelly problem. Begrudgingly, he leaned forward across the larger man’s sleeping body to wake his roommate up.

PPHHRROOOOTTTT!

A pungent cloud of gas escaped Enrique’s wet buttocks, causing the unfortunately-placed Paul to stagger back and away from the bed. His head had been right over the danger-zone. He’d been so close in fact that Paul watched the flatulence push through the tight fabric of Enrique’s running shorts before blasting him in the face. The mass almost had a spore-like quality to it, the condensed fart gliding through Paul’s nostrils and right into his brain. Now on the floor, Paul’s head felt hazy from the direct blow. Still in his work trousers and button-up, he was barely able to hear the sound of a small toot escape his own bottom.

BBRRMMPPP!

“I gotta…I gotta get out of here…” Paul murmured, the awful stench causing him to lose focus. He was in survival mode now, the smell finally getting into his system and tainting him, corrupting him. Unable to stand without falling again, Paul carefully crawled his way across the room. Each step was not only one towards freedom but one away from his pungent roommate. Each step however was also getting more difficult to take. Paul heard a sudden creak in floorboards. He hoped it was his roommate, waking up to save him from this oddly disgusting fate. Instead, it was the door to the bedroom, shutting on its own like a metaphor from some horror movie; closing the coffin lid.

SSSHHHBBBBRRT!

Enrique’s plump cheeks let out another putrid gust of air. Paul rolled on the floor, his body weakening as he became powerless to the gas. His breathing slowed, accepting the stale air into his body. Paul’s eyes slowly shut after, his consciousness escaping. The foul fumes entered his system willingly as he surrendered. Having a lot of ground to cover, the odor coated both Paul’s interior and exterior. The last thing Paul heard was another fart from his own back end, although this time its ring was a little more similar to that of his Mexican roommate’s.

BBRMMPPHH!

Similar to his roommate’s situation, Paul’s body laid on the carpeted ground lifeless. His lungs were no longer functioning to take in oxygen and release carbon dioxide. Instead, their focus has been reoriented into processing more methane and hydrogen sulfide. The rotten components eagerly flooded Paul’s system, creating an almost hibernation-like state to ease into the metamorphosis stage. While the flatulence Paul inhaled from Enrique polluted his body, he released his own gas that disposed of his previous being.

FFRRRAAABBBTT!

The spores slowly multiplied and released from Enrique’s body into Paul’s. As particular areas became more concentrated, the malodorous work became more apparent. Being hit first and the hardest, Paul’s face was the quickest to change. His nose and jaw broadened dramatically, growing wider as his skull realigned itself into something squarer. His cleft pushed back and thickened, allowing for his lips to plump up with a little extra pout. Paul’s eyebrows became bushier while his hair took on a new texture, darkening into a lovely dark brown to match the altered shades of his brow line and barely-there stubble. Finally, his skin tanned into a honey-like color that begged to be tasted.

SSSHHBBRT!

More of Paul’s lifeless figure was coated. The small amount of fat that he had earned in his first years of desk work at the firm melted away, leaving behind supple muscular tissue. The erosion led to biceps, triceps, and quadriceps. Abs upon abs, pec beside pec. His calves were excavated underneath the years of unuse, now dug up to renew their purpose. Veins that had previously been hidden were now apparent, showing the renewed strength in Paul’s body. Once any part of Paul’s body was contaminated, updated, or corrected, the caramel color came sweeping in like a fresh coat of paint. 

The spores continued their work across Paul’s frame. His feet shrunk from their average US Size 10 to a more appropriate MX Size 26. His buttocks plumped up underneath his weight, now vibrating every time a new blast of gas was released. Paul’s pouch swelled larger too, each of his balls the size of ripened, flavorful tomatillos. His cock also grew meatier, girthier, swelling proudly into a thick chorizo sausage. Paul’s clothes also adapted, his office attire disappearing entirely except for his loose boxer shorts. Those shrunk in and stretched across his lower half, encasing the bronzed skin underneath a tight spandex material.

FFRRRBBTTT!

The fumes were now undeniably a fog, crowding all of Enrique’s room after being confined to such a small space. The last of Paul’s body was tainted in a matter of moments. His body hair either completely disappeared or transformed into something darker, coillier, and a heck of a lot smellier. His Adam’s apple shifted slightly upwards while his vocal chords replaced some vowel sounds with others. Even the tiniest details weren’t spared. Anything that could be made more Mexican was.

All this time, the spores from the toxic gasses had been infiltrating Paul’s body too. Memories of family in America, culture in America, life in America were all slowly altered. The red, white and blue became the prickly pear, rattlesnake, and golden eagle. Burgers and fries were erased by enmoladas and posole. Paul’s mom dropping him off at law school became Pablo’s mamá dropping him off at the airport. Paul’s life goals were centered around becoming an incredible lawyer, but Pablo’s life goals were centered around having a good time.

BBRRMMPPP!

-and spreading his Mexican flavor of course. Everyone had to get a whiff of him. He loved his manly, Latino scent. And he knew everyone else would as well. 

Wrapping up their job, the spores gathered the last bits of the previous being and ushered them towards the backdoor. Anything that screamed “American,” “white,” or “Paul” was clustered and pushed out the two new bouncy globes the man would call his mejor activo. With one final thrust, a concluding fart escaped his system, permanently discharging anything left of his former self.

FFBBBRRRMMPPHH!

Pablo’s eyes fluttered open slowly. He groaned, his head feeling cloudy from the hedor that lingered in the air. He loved it. Pablo adored his manly smell and wanted to indulge in it. Fortunately for him, it didn’t seem like su trasero was planning on stopping anytime soon.

“¡Amigo!” Enrique’s voice loomed from up above. Pablo pushed himself up, noticing his very atractivo roommate in the doorway. “You could’ve slept in mi cama,” he continued smoothly.

“I couldn’t make it,” Pablo replied with a cute accented English. “I fell to my knees when I saw your bella Durmiente.”

Enrique smirked and rolled his eyes. He sat on the floor to join his roommate/lover, but Pablo was already up. The two had unintentionally swapped spots. 

“¿Mi bebé varón?” Enrique purred, giving a playful smack to Pablo’s beach balls.  “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got that party tonight, remember? For that law firm.”

“Ah yes,” Enrique replied. “Lover by day, el compañero by night.”

Pablo smirked. “Don’t be too sad. I’ll be back soon.” He then turned in the open doorway, leaving a proper parting gift.

FFFFRRT!

He’s doing this to me. I swear. That dumb jock of a roommate is somehow making me into a bro like him. It started with just waking up with clearer skin, gettin a face that was not as thin and pale. But then I noticed changes to my body. I was waking up not as much the skinny beanpole I was the night before, filling in shirts and jeans that were big before. I thought maybe I was eating better with the meals my roomies been making or some kinda second puberty. But I kept on changing. And I can see my roommate always staring, askin me how I’m feeling, giving me shoulder rub, telling me I feel tense. He’s never been that nice. I’ve caught myself saying bro and dude more and more often and I swear I’m losing interest in book stuff or at least it’s getting harder to concentrate. And look at me. Abs and pecs. My biceps and shoulders are getting massive and they’re probably gonna get even bigger. Fuck I mean who am I kidding I’m looking hot. And it’s not just muscle, it’s cock. I’m getting thicker and longer everyday, and insanely horny. So hard not to just pull it out and see how I’ve grown, flex and smirk- my smile is so damn hot and cocky now. Fuck I’m losing myself aren’t I. But so what if my interests are changin a little. Look at these abs. My roomie has been checking me out, he wants a piece of this, who wouldn’t, and he’s fucking hot. Fuck I want to hold him down, show him what these muscles can do. Press my hard body against his, really show him what kinda dumb jock I can be. Huhu fuck yeah that would be so hot.