Archerprice - Untitled

Roomie Remodelled

Today’s Saturday and I felt like kicking back first thing and enjoying a blowjob so my roommate, Paul did the honours by being my cousin Ritchie for the morning. He certainly played  the role well but that’s because at the moment he doesn’t remember that he’s not really my cousin.

Thanks to the power of my Chronivac, Paul thinks he’s always been Richie - with a few modifications of course.  The real Ritchie is straight as an arrow so naturally he wouldn’t be caught dead sucking my cock. The real Ritchie is also a bit of a prude and doesn’t like to show his sexy, tattooed bod but that’s not a problem since I dialled down his inhibitions, turned him gay and gave him a fetish for jockstraps and sweaty gym gear.

Now not only is Paul behaving like an uninhibited, gay version of Ritchie, he also thinks Saturday morning blowjobs are a regular gig for us.  Man, the feel of his lips and tongue on my pole was unbelievable and it didn’t take long for me to blow my load into his mouth once he got to work.

Watching Ritchie’s sniffing his pits after I returned the favour by sucking him off is getting me horned up again so I think I’ll reset my nuts and have another round.  The security guard at the mall’s got a rocking bod and I bet once I’ve transformed Paul into a clone of him, his lips’ll look great slurping on my cock too.

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!

Ugh, I Hate Bongs.

Switching it up slightly! Here's a more subtle TF as a straight edge busybody finally tries to stick it to his stoner roommate. -Occam

Chris was not going to let his roommate smoke in their apartment anymore. He was tired of the couch smelling like smoke which is reason enough, but beyond that his roommate, Nate, had fully broken two broken two bongs getting ashy water all over the work Chris had left out in the den. Hearing a telltale gurgle coming from the living room could only mean Nate had now brought a third bong into their shared space. Chris felt almost bound to act.

As soon as he opens his bedroom door he feels a wave of thick smoke blow through him, clearly getting the skunky smell he hates so much all over his clothes and bedding. This was something Chris could not let stand. It’s bad enough that he’s doing this in the apartment at all now it’s now going to start seeping into the only place he had left. He sees Nate on the couch taking in a deep breath preparing to lay into him. But? What was he mad about anyway?

Standing there continuing to breathe in smoke from Nate’s session he remembers there was definitely something he needed to do. He was in his room, then he heard his roommate, and now he is in the living room? As he continues to aimlessly circle through these seemingly insignificant events he doesn’t even notice as he stops smelling the weed in the air, before seeing Nate take another massive bong hit on the couch. Seeing him out of his room Nate smiles, breathing another wave of smoke into the room.

“Yo dude! Are you coming to join?” Nate’s eyes are bleary and red as he offers the bong and lighter to his roommate.

That’s what it was, Chris remembers as he sees the bong. He was pissed that his roommate was using a bong! It was, annoying for some reason? I mean it looks a little dirty right? “Didn’t I say no bongs dude?”

“Oh yeah dude! That’s why I rolled you a joint?”

This throws Chris for a loop. What a kind thing to do but he can’t help but feel something amiss going on. The smile briefly fades from Nate as he grows concerned seeing Chris struggle. “Woah everything good dude?”

“Yeah, sorry? My head just feels like it’s pounding,” Chris rubs his face in discomfort feeling his face grow flush and his eyes begin to dry.

“This’ll straighten you right up dude, come on just try a hit.”

Chris, upon being directly asked, puts out a hand for the joint and immediately lights it up like he has done it a thousand times over. He takes a hit like an expert, breathing slowly and naturally as to not cough. Only after doing so and realizing he had no discomfort he starts a coughing fit. Of course, he has been breathing progressively more and more smoke since stepping out of his bedroom, so this fit is almost performative. Something he is doing only because it is something he should be doing, or he thinks he should be doing? He doesn’t usually smoke, right?

This thought quickly flashes out of his head as feels lightheaded, collapsing onto the couch right next to Nate. His body growing leaner as he almost liquefies into the cushions, “See Chris what did I say, one hit and you’re already cured.” His glazed eyes look over to his friend as he takes another hit. He sees his friend’s stubbled face and wonders if he should grow one of his own. Shaving is more effort than it’s worth anyway. He exhales as he too starts to add to the pervasive smoke filling the room.

He scratches at his face as a scraggly beard starts to push out. Pausing to feel as much as he can in his body before taking another hit. Pushing his back against the couch, rubbing his arm down his chest and stomach, Nate watching as his roommate finally lets loose. Chris takes a third hit as Nate sees his hair get greasier as his pubes push out beyond the bounds of his holey underwear.

Chris launches into another coughing fit as, unbeknownst to him, he finishes the joint and starts to burn the filter. Seeing this Nate reacts as quickly as he can, clumsily putting the bong down on the table reaching out to check on Chris, rubbing his roommates back in a way that seem decidedly intimate. “Y’okay dude? Your hits were way too big but ‘s chill ‘s chill. You didn’t want any more did you?”

Sluggishly working through the words Nate just asked him he finds he doesn’t need to search for his own answer. Why wouldn’t he want more? Everything just feels so much better as he stretches, feeling his tendons and muscles expand and contract, “Mmmmm yeah I could do a little more.” Before he remembers that with his joint now impossibly consumed in three hits the only weed ready to smoke is in the bong’s bowl, still vaguely unpleasant to him.

Nate then has a masterful idea. He would shotgun the weed to Chris! Why would he be averse to that? They’re friends right? Chris, numbed beyond reason, is more than happy to give it a try. He’s sure that he's drunk after Nate before right? Or? Have they kissed before? It’s hard to tell, the benders they go on its truly impossible to say.

Chris watches as Nate takes a massive hit of the bong. Water gurgling for full seconds before he reconsiders, one last time feeling unease, he isn’t the to go on benders right? He’s so type a he wouldn’t even think about it. Continuing to question himself as he leans towards Nate, finishing his inhale as he too leans towards Chris. He opens his mouth letting the cloud of smoke leak out of his mouth, lazily gazing into Chris’ eyes expecting him to finish the job.

Seeing this Chris is unable to resist as he stumbles forward pressing his mouth to Nate’s.

Nate falls backwards, once more narrowly placing the bong on the table, as Chris crashes into him. The playful second hand smoking quickly dissolving into an aggressive grinding session as Chris hungrily slobbers over Nate’s neck. Maybe he is this type of person. Nate pulls Chris’ shirt off letting their torsos touch skin to skin as Chris begins dry humping his roommate. The two stoners continue in this regard as their cocks swiftly demand attention as sweatpants are pulled down and the two have at each other outright. Lean arms flailing in the air as they pull on each other's unwashed hair. Faces shove into hairy pits in lieu of smoking any more weed, besides of course the haze still filling the apartment. The pressure quickly mounts as Chris is inches from finishing all over his roommates’ hairy chest before he shifts and his left leg flings into the table knocking over bong number three. “Shit dude!” he cries as he does indeed finish missing Nate’s chest for his face. Coming down from their ecstasy the pair stumble off the couch narrowly avoiding glass shards as they try to clean up Chris’ mess.

“Maybe no more bongs yeah,” Chris giggles at something he can quite understand as he watches Nate struggle with a broom. His eyes shift from the unground weed on the table and his still unclad roommate as he starts to work himself up once more. Hungrily awaiting what comes next, he prepares for session two.

Can I take seat 17? I think it’s an emergency exit row?

Tattoos sprouting…. feet thickening… that’s right, you’re now Romeo. A stoner, skater bad boy. With a foot smell capable of making you pass out.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Sexuality ; Gay

Status ; top

Musk ; 9/10, all coming from your size 15 feet and your hairy pits.

Butt size ; 5/10, average, but you don’t really need it anyway.

Dick size ; 8/10, 7.5 inches, thick and veiny.

Farts ; 3/10, surprisingly not gassy.

Intelligence ; 5/10, you’re definitely not smart, but not completely dumb either.

Muscles ; 7.5/10

Overall looks ; 9.5/10

If you have any questions about your new amazing body, feel free to ask in PMS!

Getting Comfortable

“Wait! Lemme get a little more comfortable before we hit the road,” Rhett chirped giddily in a high southern accent as he snatched the jeans and t-shirt out of his bag in the backseat. His small, pale, twig-like body flung out of the car in a hurry.

“For fuck sake Rhett, it’s an hour and a half to Nashville, how ‘comfortable’ you need to get?! We’re gonna be late to the show!” Tanner snapped angrily from the driver’s seat in a deep Tennessean accent. He’s been a fan of this particular band for as long as he could remember and wasn’t going to let Rhett fuck it up. He had always been the more alpha of the two of them: more body and facial hair (hell, any body and facial hair), deeper voice, loads of friends and admirers, thicker build. But that didn’t mean Tanner was some good ol’ boy hard ass. His politics emphasized justice, he tried his best to be an ally, and he even fancied himself sexually liberated, not really ascribing to any labels. They’d known each other since they were roughly the same size, but their bond didn’t have trouble lasting through their drastically different physical developments. Tanner and Rhett were inseparable. They’d been friends for years and years, and let’s face it, Rhett always needed someone caring enough but stern enough as Tanner to look after him.

“Just a sec, won’t take long!”

Tanner threw his hands up and leaned back against the headrest, rolling his eyes at Rhett’s delay. He reclined in the seat and rubbed his eyes, not excited to travel an hour and a half, but looking forward to the destination. He just hoped Rhett would hurry up inside.

Tanner lowered his hands and saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Rhett was standing just outside the car door and he had already removed his shirt. He was lowering his shorts quickly, exposing his pale, flat ass and his limp, weak dick.

“RHETT, the fuck?!!” Tanner yelled from the driver’s seat. He brought his voice down, but to a sharp, stinging hiss, “Fuck, man, you tryna get busted for indecent exposure?! Jesus H. Christ, man…”

“Chill chill chill chill chill…” Rhett responded in a carefree, sing-song voice, busying himself with his dressing/undressing and dismissing Tanner’s scolding.

Tanner threw his hands up again and brought him down forcefully on the steering wheel.

“Almost done,” Rhett reassured as he lowered the blue jeans down and stepped into them without any underwear. He wiggled each foot through the sleeves of the fabric and pulled them up. They wore pretty damn high on his waist and seemed several sizes too big for him. “And now…” he buttoned the pants at the waist, but still had to hold up the pants to keep them from falling.

Tanner didn’t want to mentioned how clownish he looked in the jeans as risk of hurting his friend’s feelings, “Good, then put the damn shirt on and get your ass in the—“

“Hhhuurrrrrnnnnnnggggghhh…”

As Rhett grunted, Tanner could see him rise up, gaining several inches in height in seconds, seemingly out of thin air. Tanner’s jaw dropped.

Rhett cocked his head down to see into the car, “Just give me one more minute, bud, I gotta-UUhhhrrrrrnnnnnggghh…”

As Rhett grunted again, Tanner watched as he inexplicably gained more height, several more inches than the last time, shit maybe even a full foot. It was hard for any 23 year old to be 5’4”, which was one of Rhett’s many crosses to bear, but Tanner guessed he could easily be around 6’7” or 6’8”. Fuck, his friend grew well over a foot, in seconds.

Tanner swallowed hard, “Rhett… Man, what’s—“

Tanner couldn’t see Rhett’s head anymore. The jeans at least looked to be the right length on his body, but Tanner saw Rhett hold his still-too-large pants up with his hands gripping the waist of the jeans, “Now, just hold your horses, Tanner, damn, just a couple more—Oh, HHRRRRNNG, Uuuuuuuhhhhh…”

Tanner felt himself chub up as Rhett’s body suddenly started to swell all over as he made his vocalizations. His body filled up well, muscles pressing up against flat, almost emmaciated skin, which deepened to a slightly darker color, as if he was gaining more health, just slightly sun kissed. Tanner could start to see, just barely, the jeans making contact with the shape of his legs for the first time. From Tanner’s vantage, it looked as though Rhett did a modest amount of gym work, maybe 1 or 2 times per week, which Tanner knew for a fact Rhett never did.

“Ah, almost there, like a said, just a couple… more…. HHHhhhhhuuuuuUUURRRNNNGGHH!…”

Tanner was at full mast as Rhett swelled up even more, his modestly muscled body gaining mass at an unbelievable rate, his vocalizations seemingly encouraging his growth. Rhett could let go of the waist of his pants, as his legs slowly filled out the jeans some more, stopping their growth when the jeans were about one size too big. The pants were caught from falling on his ample ass, which had swelled up to an impressive rounded shelf that slightly jutted out from behind him, and exposed the root of his cock and the light blonde whisps of his pubic hair. This time, Tanner could hear bones crack dully from the outside of his car, as Rhett’s body broadened to accommodate his growth. His abdominals and pecs pulsed larger and his waist tapered down to a V, which Tanner always found so sexy on dudes. His skin rid itself of any and all imperfections and deepened even darker in color. Fuck, Rhett developed a proper swimmer’s body in a matter of seconds! How in the hell was this happ—

“One more,” Rhett panted with effort. “One more second, I.. Oh…. I just—aww fuck—I just… gotta… UUUUUUUURRRRRRRNNNGGGGGGGHHHH!!!”

Tanner started absentmindedly, slowly stroking his dick over his shorts as Rhett’s body entered its final stage of growth. Tanner heard the fastest and most pronounced series of bones cracking and shifting as Rhett expanded even more. His skin deepened to a golden, spotless tan. His legs swelled larger and larger, looking like he could effortlessly crush a watermelon between his thighs. It looked like the jeans were painted on his body, hugging every curve. Speaking of curves, his ass swelled even larger, pulling the jeans tight around his impressive glutes. The tightness didn’t help the next developement, as Tanner saw the root of his cock began to pulse and his crotch began to twitch. With each pulse, Tanner saw the root of his cock plump thicker, thicker, thicker, thicker, leaving Rhett with an imposing cock the size of a Red Bull tall boy. His bulge fattened up nicely as well, as Tanner watched Rhett’s balls make large mounds in pants that were already tight as hell. Rhett grabbed onto the waist of the jeans and pulled them up to relieve his wedding tackle of the tightness his ass created, bouncing a little to make sure all his bits were settled in. With his bouncing, Tanner saw his pecs pound hard and thicken into rock hard slabs. His arms, still gripping the waist of his pants, pulsed and bulged and hardened into a set of guns that would rival Captain America’s. Fuck, Tanner had such a weak spot for arms. Finally, his abs cut into sculpted ridges and his waist developed the most mouthwatering set of cum gutters Tanner had ever seen. Rhett was now over a foot taller, and several feet broader than he was just maybe a full minute ago. Just from what Tanner could see from his vantage, Rhett could model anywhere, he’d be scouted in a heartbeat.

“Woooo!!!” Rhett yelled out enthusiastically to the sky and the (thankfully) empty parking lot as he bucked his hips, flexed his abs, and pumped his guns.

Tanner realized he hadn’t taken a breath for several seconds and inhaled deeply, feeling like he was a hair trigger away from busting all over himself and his car.

He swallowed hard, “Uh, Rhett—“

“I know, I know, Tanner,” Rhett answered in his still-high Tennessean accent, his head still obscured by the limits of Tanner’s viability from inside his car, thanks to Rhett’s massive gain in height. He started slipping on the blue shirt, which moments ago would’ve been way too big on his body, “‘Put on the goddamn shirt and get in the car,’ ya don’t hafta repeat yourself.” He pulled the shirt down from over his head.

“No, dude, it’s—“

Tanner was interrupted by another dull series of cracks, as if bones were breaking and shifting under bags of cloth, hearing Rhett grunt slightly, and seeing Rhett’s new godly pecs and his thick neck twitch. Finally, Rhett let out a hard, wet cough, cleared his throat, and Tanner watched his upper body pivot as he spit away from the car, hearing a heavy, wet slap against the pavement.

At last, Rhett swung one foot in and lowered himself into Tanner’s passenger seat. His face was sharper, more angular, and just downright more sexy and handsome. His hair was thicker, his skin was flawless. Everything, literally all things about this new creature that lowered himself into Tanner’s car bared all resemblance to the Rhett Tanner had always know, except if you took Rhett’s fuckability meter and cranked it up to 1000 and ripped out the dial. He was a fucking hunk, in literally every sense of the word.

Rhett pulled his sleeve back as he entered, knowing it would send Tanner over the edge.

“Alright, let’s move, cowboy,” Rhett said, grinning perfect teeth at Tanner, his voice an impossibly deep bass laced with a thick southern drawl.

“Rhett—!” Tanner moaned and gripped on hard to the steering wheel, cut off by his cock exploding inside his pants, without touching it at all. He moaned louder than he ever had in an orgasm, and veins popped in his arms while gripping the steering wheel as he bucked his hips, his cock still erupting thick volleys of cum.

Rhett, still grinning and chuckling while Tanner voided his balls. He was loving the impact he was having on his friend that he had always seen as a hell of a stud, and decided to give Tanner’s ‘no-hands’ ejaculation the parting shot it deserved. He took his strong hand, turned Tanner’s head towards him, and covered his mouth with his lucious, pillowy lips, shoving his new wider, thicker, longer tongue down Tanner’s throat. Tanner moaned into Rhett’s mouth as one last powerful shot burst out of his cock head.

Tanner was still gripping the steering wheel, heaving panting breaths, “Rhett, buddy, what the hell happened to you?”

“What, ya don’ like it?” Rhett asked with a feigned insultedness. He grinned and flexed his arm a bit more for Tanner’s pleasure.

“Nahnahnahnah, s’not like that at all, but like…. FUCK, man, you got a fuckin’ god bod! You’re a goddamn stud, man! How?!”

“Appreciate it, brother,” Rhett responded in his new, deep, drawling bass with a small blush and settled into his seat. He leaned his head against the seat and rolled his head to look back at Tanner with his hyponitizing green eyes, “You know that woodsy, spiritual shit you’re always giving me guff over?”

Tanner thought for a second, then cocked his head and narrowed his eyes in disbelief at Rhett. Rhett beared his pearly teeth and then spread his arms out, as if presenting his new body.

“No. Fuckin’. Shit.”

“‘Fraid so, my guy,” Rhett responded proudly. “Tried out this ritual last night. Didn’t have a lotta confidence in it, but figured what the hell. Hadta soak these britches and the shirt in this oily solution and let it dry, but once it did,” he displayed his body again as Tanner forced out a few disbelieving chuckles. “Took a helluva lotta self-control to not lose myself in hours and hours of self pleasure…”

“Shit, man, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. Why didn’t you?” Tanner asked admirably with a small laugh, picturing the image of Rhett writhing around on his floor all night, busting nut after nut, worshiping himself. Fuck.

Rhett lowered his head and went somber for a second, “‘Cus once I bust one lookin’ like this, all this,” he punctuated his words by gesturing up and down his new bod with his hand, “is here to stay.” he smirked at Tanner.

Tanner started chubbing up again, and chuckled, “Well, shit, brother, what’s the hold up?!”

Rhett’s smirk dropped and he looked dead in Tanner’s eyes, “Well, ‘cus I wanna do it with you, man.” Rhett started unbuttoning his jeans.

Tanner’s cock flooded with blood, “… Rhett, dude, I—“ Rhett lowered his zipper, “I don’t—“ Rhett pulled out his thick, uncut trouser snake and let it flop against his torso, and son of a bitch it was even bigger than Tanner imagined, “… uh, fuck, know what—“ Rhett spat into his hand and stroked as his cock thickened even more (if that were possible) and pointed straight up, his cock head beginning to peek through his foreskin, “—what to say, I…”

“Just suck it, dude, you know you want to.”

Tanner’s breath heavied. Should he? He looked at the cock. He’d never seen a boy’s dick look so goddamn inviting. He licked his lips. This was really happening.

“Fuck it.”

Tanner threw himself over the driver/passenger divider and eagerly took Rhett’s cock into his mouth and started bobbing his head and sucking with animal intensity. He reached his hand up to Rhett’s new, sculpted tits and squeezed, greedily groping his impressive rack.

“Yeah, man, get yourself a handfula that.”

Tanner gave a blowjob that would put to shame any bj he’d received in his own life, and Tanner was no slouch. Rhett grit his teeth and groaned with ecstasy, his powerful hand running through and gripping his friend’s thick, dark hair. He grinded his hips against his best friend’s face and ran his other hand and meaty arm down Tanner’s back caressing him, reaching under his shorts to squeeze his ass and play with his hole with his new, thick fingers.

“Awww, FUCK, bro, yeah keep suckin’, I gotta little surprise churnin’ in these fuckin’ sacks just for you, my man, awww fuuuckk yeah keep suckin’…”

Tanner obediently sucked, very eager to please his friend. Rhett speeded his grinding against Tanner’s face, his lower abs pressing into the side of Tanner’s head. Tanner could feel Rhett’s mushroom tip swell in the back of his throat, fuck he’s about to nut.

Tanner started to pull off Rhett’s dick, but Rhett forced his head back down, “Aww no man, you gotta take this, gotta little something special, get fuckin’ ready, I’m gonna-gonna-HHHHUUUURRRRNNNGGG!!”

Rhett groaned deeply, his head tilted back and veins protruding out of his thick neck as he unloaded a massive cum dump into Tanner’s throat and mouth. Tanner’s eyes watered as he felt hot, fresh jizz fire down his throat and fill up his mouth until his cheeks were bulging. Rhett took deep, heaving breaths, his huge chest rising and falling, wet sweat darkening his shirt around his neck and under his pits, his face glistened in the light and beads dripped from his hair. Then, like an electric jolt, he felt a cool, fizzing pulse flow through his body. Something changed. He was new. He let out a shuddering, emotional moan. This was Rhett now, he mused. Rhett with the ‘god bod.’

Rhett realized just then, in his euphoric bliss, that he was still holding Tanner’s face against his spent crotch.

“Whoops, sorry there, buddy. But I need you to listen real careful, y’understand?” Tanner furrowed his brow and grunted, Rhett still lodged deep inside his mouth/throat and his seed sloshing around his mouth. Something was off, though… Rhett’s spooge tasted strangely sweet like fruit, and fresh like pine needles, and he could feel it swirl hot and bright, like stardust. “I needja to drink all that baby batter down for me, think ya can do it?” Tanner nodded enthusiastically. “Awright, aww fuck man you ain’t gonna regret this!”

Rhett moaned as he felt the muscles in Tanner’s throat contract and release again and again as Tanner swallowed and swallowed. It took him 4 separate swallows to get all that fuckin jizz down, but the taste made it more than easy. He lifted off Rhett’s cock with a wet *sluuuurrpPOP* and Rhett shivered.

Tanner wiped his lips and chin and crashed back into his driver’s seat, “Jesus H. Christ, Rhett, you are somethin’ else,” Rhett just shrugged and flexed. “So whadya reckon happens now?”

“Well,” Rhett began as he zipped up and buttoned his pants again. “We do have a show to get to.”

Tanner paused then laughed dumbly, “Damn, that completely jumped my mind,” *guuurrgle* Tanner felt his stomach turn. “Then after that?”

“Well, man,” Rhett stared off, “I’m thinkin’ stay in Nashville.”

“Stay??” *guuuuuuurrrrrrrgle* Tanner felt and heard something turn in his stomach. What the fuck?

“Yeah, bro, stay! New me, new city, ya know?” Tanner’s stomach gave off another heavy, loud gurgle. Rhett continued, “Maybe try my hand at music. Always did love singin’.”

“Well you got the voice and the body for music now, that’s for goddamn sure!” the two laughed but Tanner felt another massive turn in his stomach, this one making him shake in his seat. Rhett stared at him greedily, biting his lip. Tanner gave out a nervous chuckle, “Say Rhett, why were you so insistent on me drinkin’ you down?”

Rhett grinned, “Well, ‘cus I want you to stay there with me, babe.”

“Wh—“ Tanner began but was stopped by another gurgling started, only this time, it didn’t stop. With his eyes wide, Tanner, already a modestly swole, tall-ish individual, began to swell steadily. It started in his neck, as it swelled and hardened, widening to a thickness similar to his thighs in his present state. “*grrrrrrgle* Shit, Rhett, what’s you do to me?” He made concerned eyes at Rhett, but Rhett just leaned back watching him, smirking and nodding at him slowly. Tanner returned with a grin, albeit a slightly nervous grin. “Awww, fuckkkkk *ggurrrrrgggg*

Tanner next felt his shoulders and back broaden, causing the threads in his flannel to snap and the seams to tear. Tanner was always keen on wearing tight clothes, but as his shoulders, arms, pecs, and abs began to slowly inflate like he was a giant balloon, a symphony of rips and tears sounded through the car as his swelling skin peeked through dozens of holes in his flannel. Rhett squeezed his own pecs and teased his nipples with his thumbs, taking in open-mouthed breaths of air, never taking an eye off his swelling new lover. As his stomach kept turning, Tanner turned a renewed confident eye to Rhett and smiled slyly. His stretching and growing hands grabbed onto the front of his flannel, and with bulging new arm muscles, he yanked sharply with a feral grunt as the flannel exploded off him in shreds, he yanked both of the sleeves off too to free his massive arms. All that was left was one of Tanner’s loose tanks he always wore under his clothing, his skin retaining the sexy dusting of hair all over him. He tossed the torn fabric over to Rhett, who brought it to his face and inhaled deeply, rubbing his crotch and moaning, still not taking an eye off Tanner, who was swelling so large he started to seem too wide for his seat. Tanner leaned back and lifted his hands behind his head to grip the headrest, his broad triceps bulging over his hairy pits. He braced himself for the next part he could feel coming.

“MMMMMmmmrrrrrfffffff….” Tanner bucked his hips and flexed his ass as he felt it round and firm up under him, lifting him a bit higher off the seat. His thighs thudded into sinewy tree trunks and he clenched his teeth at his calves lengthened and hardened, giving him about 4 more inches in height. His new massive ass and his tree trunk thighs compounded to make his gym shorts appear like way-too-tight boxer briefs. With its tightness, opaque, white jizz rose to the surface and pooled from Tanner’s ejaculation earlier. With his shorts as tight as they were, Rhett had a perfect view for the next part. “OOOOOoooooooohhhhh…” Tanner winced and moaned, closing his eyes, as Rhett saw Tanner’s cock and balls swell and fatten and bulge and rise and thicken against the taut fabric of his gym shorts. His junk now formed three massive lumps that pressed hard against the front of the shorts.

Finally, Tanner let out satisfied groans as he felt his jawbone sharpen and point. He felt the movement across his mouth as his lips involuntarily puckered, giving him a great set of fuckable lips. He again retained the sexy dusting of hair on his face as before, but he felt the hair on top of his head straighten but thicken, giving him a naturally styled, quaff.

He turned and looked at Rhett, who was slack-jawed and sweaty in the passenger’s seat staring at him, Rhett’s thick rod, hard and long, pressed against the fabric of the jeans. Tanner was proud to be the one to make this blonde model hunk bone up.

Tanner smacked his lips, “Well, fuck, Rhett, I’d say you got some pretty potent cream.”

“Hhhaaaaaaaaaa…” Rhett moaned with a deep as hell bass and a slack-jawed grin as his jeans darkened with spurting wet spots from the tip of the bulge his cock made.

“Shit, man, you had s’more of that hulk-out juice and you ain’t gonna share? Gimme some,” Tanner goofily reached a finger across and scooped some of Rhett’s jizz that he seeped through the jeans, grazing Rhett’s still-hard cock and making him shudder, and brought it to his lips, sucking his finger.

“‘Fraid not, brother, that’s all me,” Rhett said panting, grabbing some napkins out of the glove box and wiping himself off. “Plus I think we’re both gonna be cummin’ like hydrants, my guess is that our regeneration cycles have sped up like 1000%.” Rhett tugged at his crotch as though relieving his overworked balls. He paused before his next thought, “I neglected to mention that the ritual gives your last nut has these ‘special properties’ or whatever. I’d assume most guys just slurp up their own spooge, ya know, give ‘emselves a boost on toppa what they’re already gettin’… Sorry I spooked ya… wanted it to be a surprise.” Rhett scratched the back of his head and blushed.

“Woodsy, spiritual shit…” Tanner mused admiringly.

“Woodsy, spiritual shit.” Rhett confirmed with confident nods.

If that’s the case and it really worked with this kind of success, they’re gonna have to take advantage it way more. Tanner was in love with Rhett, he just realized. Nashville, huh? All he could think about was the drug scene he’d been told about there (well, that and of course the music business. Dude’s popping those little black pills and doing all sorts of things. He couldn’t see why he and Rhett would need them anyways, now that they looked like this. Nah, they would keep each other grounded, they cared for each other too much. He’s never really been one to enjoy the big city, but he was more than happy to give it a shot with his friend. His best friend. And his lover.

Tanner leaned in, “Well, consider me very pleasantly surprised,” he turned Rhett towards him and tenderly kissed him, “and very pleasantly spooked,” he kissed him tenderly again, “and very happy to join you.” Rhett’s eyes lit up and he grinned widely with excitement. “Let’s do this, babe.”

Their tongues interlocked as they exchanged one last big smooch.

“Now, let’s get this show on the road,” Tanner stated as he turned the key in the ignition, starting up the car. “Against all odds, we still got time to catch the show tonight!”

He and Rhett chuckled. Some outlaw country crooner belted deeply from the radio, ‘That’s gonna be Rhett,’ Tanner thought, knowing it to be true in his heart. He drove out of the parking lot and headed to the freeway, rolling the windows. Rhett looked over confused as the cool air passed through the cabin.

“Got to smelling like a Turkish bathhouse sauna in here, if y’know what I mean.” Tanner responded plainly.

The two erupted in laughter. Silence fell over them for a second.

Rhett broke the silence, “Y’want some road head?”

“Fuck, yes, man, thought you’d never ask!” Tanner answered immediately with childlike enthusiasm.

The two started tried to work Tanner’s shorts off of him, but they only budged slightly due to the tightness.

“Ah, fuck it.” Tanner said as he gripped one side of the shorts and tugged sharply, causing it to split wide open, his new, massive cock springing and slapping his lower torso. Rhett grabbed it and brought it into his mouth, immediately going to work with his skillful, large tongue.

Tanner writhed and grunted in pleasure. Shame about the shorts, but he had to buy all new clothes anyways.

Some clothes, a new job (mechanic? He’d always loved fixing cars and getting dirty), a new apartment, develop a new routine, and buy new supplements to maintain their physiques for his new life with his new lover.

FML: Initiate

This is a follow up to FML: Fraternize as selected by you for my 2,500 subscriber special. It took longer than expected and had a few rewrites, but I promised you all this would be the next story released. Hopefully it is worth the wait.

In all my years at this university I had never seen anything like it. Week after week students were seeming to disappear. You expect to see some flux in enrollment as students change schedules and drop classes. But these students weren’t removing themselves from classes. It was as though they were never enrolled at all. Initially within the department we all had our pet theories on the matter. But in a few weeks it was clear where they were going. It isn’t hard to notice a lot more students milling around the business campus, or the sudden discussion within administration of expanding the personal training and physiology tracts. We were all just left wondering why.

I finally hit my breaking point near the end of the semester when one of my more promising students disappeared from my roster. I asked the other pre-law professors and sure enough, they couldn’t find a trace of him ever taking a class in the department. However, I did find one lead. One of my students must have heard me discussing it with the TA’s and said that he was a member of a fraternity on campus. I groaned at the thought of having to trek out there, but I knew it was the quickest way to get some closure. Against my better judgment, I headed to the Eta Psi Rho house.

Every step there filled me with dread. I hate to confess it, but I had once attended this same university, and yes, even tried to join a fraternity. It had been such a long time ago, but I could still remember the cruel ways that my brothers had mocked, berated, and punished pledges. Fraternities we’re nothing but a blight on this campus that produced people like… well people like the man who greeted me out front.

Honestly. Back in our days at least we had the good sense to drag our brothers inside. It’s a shock campus police had not raided the place yet. I knelt down. He reeked of booze and sweat. His snore was almost deafening. Even if his brothers wouldn’t help him, I couldn’t leave him out here. I pestered the young man awake. Groggily, he rose to his feet, stumbling over his feet and his words. Immediately he clapped me on the back, thanking his ‘bro’ for the help. I tried to brush him aside, but his firm grip ushered me inside as he muttered about being late for class. I’m surprised he was still enrolled. Regardless, he helped me get inside and one of his ‘bruhs’ tried pointing me in the right direction where I could find my lost student. I began wandering the halls, looking for any sign of the young man, but they were eerily empty inside. What was I saying, the young men were all in their classes surely. Still, when from down the hall I suddenly heard, “I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” chanted in unison, I was a bit shocked. I walked up to the door and peered in, hoping to get better directions. I was met with a group of young men, glassy eyed, staring deep into a static filled television.

I walked in front of one young man, trying to get his attention. It was like I wasn't there as he stared right through me. It was no use, and the sound and light in the room was giving me a headache. I was about to leave when suddenly, from the TV, a clear command:

Brothers are lean and muscular.

Brothers are lean and muscular, the men all repeated. I nearly jumped out of my skin as the young man before me changed. His skin rippled for a moment, as though a chill went down his spine. Then, he began to swell. It came in bubbles, uneven and tumorous. But each patch began to combine and normalize with those around it until it suddenly stopped and a different man sat before me. At least, that's what I told myself as I bolted from the room.

Lost in the maze of corridors, I was just following the signs to the nearest emergency exit. Something was wrong here. Young men don't just- just GROW. The sign directed me rounded the corner into the laundry room and more pressingly, into a stranger. I started apologizing before I paused. I assumed there had to be a mistake.

The stranger had a familiar air to him. When he had been my student, the young man I knew was clean shaven, a bit shy and reserved in class, but smart as a whip and friendly. The man in front of me was confident. He shot me a smirk as he greeted me, ‘dabbing me up’ and calling me his bro. Up close he was overwhelming. I had known a brother to miss showers but it smelled like he hadn’t rinsed off in a week. The smell of cologne did nothing to hide the alcohol on his breath and the funk emanating from him. And while I could tell he used to be fit this was absurd. He looked chiseled from a magazine cover! The vacant expression was a far cry from the law student I knew. If it weren’t for his face and eyes, I doubt I would have even recognized him.

Regardless of his appearance, I started talking, pleading with him to tell me what was happening. What was happening in this house? Who was responsible for the poor boys in that room? Why did he throw away a bright future for this? But my words never seemed to get through. He pleasantly smiled and nodded, but gave canned answers about ‘brotherhood’. I really should have made for the exit in front of me but I was past the point of logic.

I finally shouted, “I just don’t understand why you would throw your life away for this!”

“This is my life,” he droned, “I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.”

That same mantra as those young men. I took a breath before continuing. God this place was rank. “Listen son, I know about the brotherhood and this fraternity. But you have to see something wrong is going on here. What were those boys doing in that room?"

"Oh the pledgies? Yeah, initiation is next week, got to make sure they stay in line over the finish line, ya know what I'm saying?"

"Someone's got to stop this. I'm going to the Dean, he'll be able to do something. This fraternity can't operate like this!"

The toothy smile fell, “You’ve got to be loyal to your bros. After all, we are made to be loyal to the frat.” His tone was suddenly flat as he began inching closer. In one swift motion he removed his tank top, flashing all his muscles. In one more, his shorts were on the ground. As he got closer, the heat in the room intensified.

It was getting hard to think, I was feeling so woozy. This bizarre display had gotten far beyond my scope as an educator. I tried to excuse myself, “I think I’d better go, this was a waste of- ” but he was suddenly upon me. I hadn’t realized I had backed myself into a corner.

"Pledge, come here!" and my mind froze.

As much as I wanted to scream and run, I could feel an unnamed power he held over me as his command to stop burrowed into my brain.

"You sound like you were in there for a bit. Let's see how much you got trained. What's a good punishment... ah. Pledge, sniff."

I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to closer to the source of his musk. I tried to resist, but something primal drove my nose in and gave a hesitant huff of pure frat bro. I was loosing any… any restraint… left. I couldn’t… resist… my… my…

He smirked, "Bro, what was that? Come on, Pledge, sniff!"

“Yes bruh.” It slipped so easily out, almost as easily as the drool from my mouth. My face crinkled as I shoved my face in his nasty pit. I couldn’t think about it. I sniffed and while I knew it was gross, it all felt fuzzy and warm in my head.

“Oh, you must have been in with them a while. Dude, we can't have you sharing fraternity secrets. Don't worry though, we may be able to save you yet. Come with me.”

My brain only processed the command as I stumbled after him back through the halls. We turned into a familiar room. I stood, head spinning, as he fiddled with a TV for a second and sat himself down.

“I think that the guys won't mind a double dose. Sit next to me.”

“Yeaaah, surrre thing,” I slurred, stumbling into my seat. His firm arm felt nice around me. He held me firmly as he pressed play on the remote and a VHS tape whirred to life. There was a disorientating strobe of colors that left me a bit dazed before starting up into an intro. I was confused at first what the tape was talking about. I wasn’t here to join the fraternity and learn more about a life of brotherhood. The opposite almost. I tried to stand, but his arm held me firmly in place. I started to protest, but the voice sounded so insistent, and it was so confusing to watch. It reminded me of something, some tape I had seen long ago. It was like slipping back into an old pair of pants, something just fit. Maybe I hear him out? Then, the tone switched.

Welcome to the first day of your new life. You have been selected to become one of the few. One of the elite. You feel honored to have been selected.

“I feel honored to be one of the elite,” every voice in the room rang out in unison.

An old pride rose in my chest. I was selected. I was better. I would be in Eta Psi Rho.

This important decision has been made for you. You must accept our guidance. The frat knows best.

“The frat knows best,” we all repeated.

You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.

“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.” It felt good as it slipped out.

Good. Brothers, step out. We have it from here.

My former student brother released my shoulder, stood quickly and left the room. But I didn’t want to leave anymore. I was to watch the tape.

Let’s start with an attitude adjustment. It is important for bros to be bros. Bros are relaxed and carefree.

“Bros are relaxed and carefree.”

I hadn’t realized how much tension I had been holding in. But as I repeated the words, a wave of relaxation rolled down from my neck, through my shoulders, rippling through my arms and torso, all the way through my legs. I let out a satisfied sigh, leaning back into my seat.

Bros eat, sleep, workout, and hang together. Bros just want to spend time with their bros.

“Bros just want to spend time with their bro.”

All sense of time and obligation suddenly felt swirled in my head. I remembered that I was supposed to go, but it felt so distant. Instead, my mind filled with a schedule of work outs, parties, meals, and frat events. I couldn’t give my lecture tonight, I would miss chapter!

In a few short weeks you will be ready for brotherhood. But first, a reminder. You want to complete your pledge. You want to be a brother.

“I want to complete my pledge. I want to be a brother.”

That almost made sense. I wasn’t a pledge, I was too old. Or, I think I am? But quickly that logic was suppressed by something else. I wanted it. I wanted so badly to be a pledge.

The commands were starting to pick up speed.

A pledge does not think for himself. He follows his brothers’ orders and fits in.

“I follow my brothers’ orders and fit in. ”

Yeah, life is so much easier when I can just listen and follow. Let others make the decisions bro.

A pledge will do anything to become a brother.

“I will do anything to become a brother.”

God it felt so good to have it all sorted out.

Now, it is important to not just act like a brother. You need to look like a brother. Feel your body. Focus on it. Every frat bro's body is a temple. A temple prime for trashing. These next four years are the prime of your life. You will enjoy your college years.

That short phrase rushed through my body. An icy chill ran down my spine that froze me in place. My body felt tight as it slowly rewound itself. I felt young blood pulsing through my body as my muscles swelled, releasing the tension of muscle aches and cranky joints. Skin pulled tight against my muscles as years of work and stress smoothed over my body. Not a wrinkle, not a sag, not a follicle of body hair was left behind as I shed my 50’s for my 20’s. Then, all at once, a wave of testosterone washed over me. It was like puberty all over, as I broke out in a cold sweat that carried that young, masculine funk. My voice cracked and softened as I moaned, my cock was flush with hunger. The brain was in no state to resist as years of history were washed away under twenty-something hormones. Bruh, I could feel my brain unfurl and smooth out a bit too. For the first time in decades, I felt young, dumb, and so full of cum.

Brothers' muscles ache from years pushing it too hard in the gym. It feels good to push your body beyond its limits. Protein powder and energy drinks are the fuel that keep you lit. Bros are swole.

“Bros are swole.”

Any twink-ish hopes I had just developed were quickly dashed against pumping iron. I felt the ice melt as my body twisted under my skin and slowly began to sweat. My stomach began to fill as a familiar chalky taste crept up the back of my throat. Protein. A deep aching filled my body, yet it continued to pulse. The more it hurt, the more I wanted it. I watched as each muscle melted inside of me and reformed out of hardened steel.

Brothers know the power of their masculinity. They are not afraid to show off their bodies. It shows others who is in charge. Let weaker men worship you. Use them for your satisfaction. You will be dominant.

I will be dominant.

I rushed to take off my clothes. They suddenly felt so restricting. I thought back to my bro as he made me sniff his rank pits. The way I just complied to his commands. The gravity of his words. I wanted that. No, I deserved that. My brain filled with a rush of new desires. To walk into a room and see people turn. To be loud, to be seen, to be heard, to be felt. I wanted the thrill of the approach as I singled out the hottest body in the room and commanded them around like my bitch. I wanted to feel their desire flush as I roughly tossed them on my bed and pried my jeans off. I deserved their mouth, open and begging for my perfect cock. I earned their hole, clenched tight as they rode for dear life until I berried my seed deep in them. I claimed the cold wind on my skin, proud of a night of conquest as I stood nude at the window, hitting my vape. I could almost feel it. I could almost... smell it? I had lifted my arms above my head, and a smell rolled off my pits. Fuck, that was the smell he had. The smell of dominance. It was mine now. I took a victorious huff.

Finally, let's ensure you can always find what you need in Eta Psi Rho. Look around you at the bros in this room. You will stay together. You will serve each other. You love your bros.

I felt a swell of kinship in my chest. I wanted nothing more than to be a part of the brotherhood. To fucking dominate this school together. But suddenly there was a tension in the air. God, why were my bros so... hot? We had all been factory made to conquer but, something more held us together. There were a few seconds as we all waited for something to happen when, suddenly, the two bros next to me made the first move.

As the room devolved into chaos, the commands kept coming. We recited back diligently between sloppy kisses, deep moans, and grunts as we slid against each other's bodies. We listened but all waited for the command that would get us to cross the finish line.

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.

What happens in the frat house stays in the frat house. No homo, bro.

I spit out the cock in my mouth as I kept railing the bro below me,

"No homo, bro!"

The frat is life.

“The frat is life.”

Perfect. We anticipate your full initiation. Cum.

Moans echoed through the halls as the tape ended.

A while passed before a door slamming shook me awake. An ache passed through me as I reached for the jug of water next to my bed. The buzz of pre-workout shook me awake. I was in my bedroom of the frat house. I was where I belonged. My big stood over my bed.

“Look at me,” my big said. My body turned to him and hit him with my cockiest smile. It felt good to obey my alpha bro.

The new man spoke, “Shit, that tape did a number on you. I don't know if we've ever inducted someone so old. How do you feel?”

“I feel relaxed and carefree, bruh,” I responded.

My bro slapped me upside the head, “Is that how you respond to your pledge master?”

Of course, how could I forget. I was so dumb sometimes, “Sorry. Good, Sir.”

His face lit up with glee, "Never get over that. Let’s see. Pledge, I brought home a twink for after the party tonight. Warm him up for me."

I felt my cock suddenly swell, rigid at attention. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

My pledge master whistled, “Dang, you know how to pick ‘em Skunk. He's no Long Leg, but he's up there. You picked out his pledge name yet?” I didn’t know his pledge name was skunk. But catching a whiff of myself as I scratched my head, guess it ran in the family.

“Well, if he’s going to keep acting like a smart ass, I’m thinking Prof.”

“Pfft, that’s hilarious,” my pledge master turned back to me, “One last question little bro. How do you feel about Eta Psi Rho?”

In an instant, an old mantra filled my mind, “I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” I droned.

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!

Man Of Your Dreams

Wallflower Dylan is gifted a new psychedelic from his friend. Used to watching frat bros from afar he finds the pill seems to affect far more than his mind.

Intended this to be plot light but so it goes! Probably going to take this week off to avail myself to other authors entering my Viral Transformation Challenge! The next story will likely be my own take on the theme so look forward to that next week alongside those from a litany of other stellar TF writers! Until then! -Occam

Dylan was fairly straight-laced, going into his senior year of university he hadn’t strayed much at all from class besides tagging along with his friend from high school to some of the more boisterous frat parties. Said friend Tony was quite more of a wild child, often invited himself because he was the source of some of the more illicit substances to be found at these parties. He’d invite Dylan whenever he’d need a more sober pair of eyes, namely if he was planning on rolling or otherwise getting high on his own supply. Despite his mild manner, Dylan always hopped on the chance, going to ragers was supposed to be part of the whole college deal right? And besides, he didn’t mind the chance to ogle brazen men he would under normal circumstances be fearful of making eye contact with.

Knowing of his friend’s meek disposition, and repressed hunger for the most vulgar of men, when Tony hears of a crazy new psychedelic on the market he has a feeling Dylan might finally let his hair loose. Reviews say the stuff makes reality feel like a waking dream. Anything seems possible and to your body it might as well be. Steamier sources swear that dreaming about sex on the stuff is even better than the real thing. Tony, never concerned about side effects of his material, gets straight to hitting up the usual channels to see what he can get and is able to scrounge up a single pill of the stuff. He wonders if he should try it out himself first before deciding he owes his friend at least first dibs.

Dylan is floored at how quickly he agreed to taking the pill. After initially being standoffish at Tony’s suggestion that he use it to fuck frat bros in his mind, once his friend started explaining what he’s heard Dylan couldn’t pass up the opportunity to really live out his fantasy. He’s not going to outgrow being a wallflower, nor is at all confident that any of the performatively masculine men would fuck him. Staring at the pill the only thing holding him back is Tony’s vapid instructions. ‘Just have a blast dude, fuck your way through those bros hah!’ Dylan’s asking about the side effects falls on deaf ears as Tony just crassly humps the air to try to convince his friend to go out on a limb. Despite his qualms and fears, and the lack of confidence inspired by Tony’s actions, Dylan feels sure that his friend wouldn’t give him something actually potentially dangerous.

Holding tight to that misplaced confidence, as soon as Tony departs Dylan pours himself a glass of water and chokes the pill down. The small tablet leaves a metallic taste in his mouth, quickly hidden by the copious amount of saliva and bile starting to rise in the back of his throat as he immediately feels the urge to vomit. Man of will despite appearances, he keeps it down and just as soon scowls as he thinks about the lack of preparation offered by his friend and prepares to tear into Tony as soon as the trip is over. Standing up he feels the room spinning around and murmurs in shock, “su- surely it’s shouldn- work this… fas-” He stumbles over to his bed and falls face down as he feels his body growing sweaty.

Before his well-practiced anxiety response can rise his mind is flooded with every pleasant hormone it’s able to produce. Every muscle in his body tenses and he feels his cock struggle to force itself erect in the awkward position he’s fallen in. Dylan moans as every sensation sends signals so intense and potent that his mind can barely maintain consciousness. Indeed he finds himself struggling to even hold his eyes open as his eyelids grow weighty. Even perfunctory bodily functions feel erotic as he begins to fade, the burning of cold air in his stretching lungs, the sound of his own heartbeat and the warmth of blood coursing through his veins. Drool immediately pools under his head as he crests into a stuporous induced unconsciousness, far too unprepared for what awaits him in his trip, and the new world he is to encounter afterwards.

Dylan is sitting in a chair across from a man he knows too well and not at all. Face to face with Ben Harrington, president of Beta Delta Alpha, Dylan has to push down the immediate rush of fear. Taking a breath he reminds himself that this is a dream, one that Tony swears he should have pretty lucid control over. As the president stands opposed, leaning on nothing he flexes his arms and the pastel button up Dylan usually sees him clad in changes into a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. He smirks as he pushes sunglasses up his face and speaks in a tone intoxicated, under the influence of nothing but Dylan himself. His raspy voice sends a shiver down the meek man’s spine as he feels himself unable to retreat, “So, uhh, Dylan is it?” 

Approaching enough to touch him, Ben puts an arm over Dylan’s shoulder, exposing his clearly unwashed pit. Dylan takes a deep breath and forces his eyes closed from the burning over-stimulation of this man baring down on him. Still, from the sticky breath blowing across the face it's clear he is continuing to inch even closer, “You want me do you?” Dylan gulps as the man gets even closer, Ben’s lips almost touching his own, “Or do you just want to be me?” This takes Dylan out of it as he steps back away from the imposing man. Eyes opening he tries to manipulate the scene as Tony implied he should be able to. The Ben of his mind tilts his head and tsks, “‘Fraid you’re not the one in charge here after all.”

Ben closes the gap once more and throws his arm around the easily manhandled Dylan pulling his body against his own sweat stained form. He smirks and leans in directly to whisper something into the dreamer’s ear, “and if you do really wanna fuck me, well. You’re gonna have to become something more my type. Yeah?” Dylan blinks in surprise, he’s heard of bad trips and the like but something seems decidedly wrong here. Before he’s able to come to any cogent conclusion the dream Ben reaches down his free hand into Dylan’s pants. His sweaty hand instantly wraps around the smaller man’s balls and squeeze. Dylan hasn’t a chance to scream in shock he feels himself lose control. Of his body, his mind, and the world around him as he begins to fall back.

He’s humping the air as he’s falling into an abyss. He doesn’t feel the fear that this descent should evoke. Usually nightmares that turn this way immediately blast him back to consciousness, instead it fills him with adrenaline that only heightens the delight coursing out from his cock. Sure that he’s now laying face down in a pool of his own semen in the real world, Dylan does what he can to focus on the pleasure as intended. 

The sound of wind tearing past him makes him unable to hear his moaning screams as his clothes are shredded by the searing gale. Rapt in delight, the blaring gusts begin to slow. Air caresses him like a full body hug and suddenly he is deposited onto soft ground. Dylan doesn’t quite repose as his body continues convulsing. Cum begins to sprinkle down on him from the plethora of loads released during his descent and he finally finds wherewithal to paw at his crotch. Grasping at his balls he finds them unmistakably larger, “Wha?” No longer falling, Dylan opens his eyes and seems to be back in reality.

Dylan awakens and blearily rubs his eyes with clearly semen stained hands. “Oh what the, ugh- Am I awake?” His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the lighting of a room that is decidedly not his bedroom. “Can’t be right?” Shaking the mess off his hands without a second thought he stands to his feet with a grunt and feels his cock bobbing, still impossibly rigid. His hands return to this turgid beacon before they almost happenstance fondle his balls. His sluggish mind struggles with how heavy and large they feel, nothing like the ones he has in reality. He smirks as the last words of Ben snake through his mind- “Become something more my type.” Who’d’ve thunk the president was into horndogs.”

Sniffing the air he begins to inspect the room surrounding him. Dirty clothes litter the floor and he finds a pervasive musk filling the air. Something in the back of his mind itches that there should be a can of axe around somewhere to cover it up, which he ignores for a number of reasons. He should be able to will the room to stop stinking. He certainly wouldn't do so with cheap body spray, and for the life of him he can’t bring himself to want to. Each deep breath of the stink he finds himself growing even hornier. Dylan feels his balls churning as he grasps them, he’s already cum a good number of times and yet he still craves release. 

He imagines the firm ass of a frat brother and leans against his dresser he uncontrollably begins to hump once more. Something flickers at the back of his mind yet again and he rips into an open drawer. Throwing clothes onto the pile of dirtied garments already littering the floor, Dylan removes a fleshlight which he proceeds to make exuberant use of. No time for his mind to question why he’s suddenly a top as his cock fills the sex toy more with every grunting thrust. 

Pubes scratch against his thumb as his crotch shifts into one that would instantly render a razor unusable. Likewise hair that has never even had to be controlled on his ass begins to thicken, growing itchy as a true jungle of curls begins to flourish on both sides of his waist. Soon enough his cock grows large enough that the toy is rendered unusable, with a furrowed brow and ungrateful grunt he tosses it to his room leaving it dripping on the floor as he somehow remains just as sexually unfulfilled as when he began, “Fuck I need the real thing…”

The real thing not present Dylan looks down at his cock and gasps as he sees what has become of his package. He doesn’t have a ton of sex but he usually keeps it clean and pretty hairless down there just for his own sake. Beyond the forest of pubes thick enough to get his hand stuck in, he covers his mouth in shock as he sees a veiny cock larger than he’s ever seen on a man with the low hanging massive balls to match. He does his best to focus up on anything besides how horny he is, but as pre continues to trickle from his hardened cock that becomes increasingly difficult. He bites his lip and looks past his throbbing cock at the floor. If he puts it away perhaps it’ll quiet of its own accord.

Dylan doesn’t pay heed to which clothes are clean or dirty as he throws on whatever best could hide his cock from his hands and mind. Nor could he notice just how far cleanliness and decency have fallen as priorities for him as he struggles to fit his package in clearly stained sweatpants. Itching at his waist as his pubes begin creeping up into a treasure trail racing to mee the spreading curls beginning to decorate his chest, his dull awareness finally notices that his whole body has begun changing. His thin arms have clearly put on powerful muscle from his mindless sessions of self-love, veins trailing down them make it difficult for him not to get straight back to masturbating at the thought of his own strength.

Similarly his eyes latch onto a chest that has somehow exploded into pecs without his knowing. Muscle that has never begun to grace his body now jiggles with every movement. He clenches his jaw hard trying to muster willpower not to give into his most basal urges, but as he feels his thighs fill the sweatpants he just threw on he wonders how long he could possibly hold out. His cluttered mind struggles to recall that he is on some kind of psychedelic trip as he fails to remember how long Tony said it would last. Instead swimming through dulling memories the voice of his, er, the frat president speaks up. “Ah god… You’re looking fucking good Big D. How’s your mind hangin’ in there?”

It takes a few moments for the words to sink in before Dylan can reply, “My, unh- mind?” His balls pulse as his eyes dash across the room while he struggles to think. God he’s been struggling to think this whole time. His cock lurches as he’s able to realize that every thought in his mind has been growing increasingly clouded. “Big D?” Dylan can’t help but smirk as his beyond impressive cock strains his sweatpants at being called Big D. He grunts as he tries to shake off the lusty delirium, “Need to chill out. Ugh. Sober up.” He hears the president tsk at him yet again, waiting with bated breath for the mans words his pecs bulge even larger on his chest. “Too late for that bro, just give in. Why have a trip into true unadulterated ecstasy when you can have a lifetime. You can finally be the man of your dreams.” 

As soon as the words of Ben, his president, are spoken in his mind it becomes clear that Big D doesn’t even have the ability to fight back against the ever-present urges that now control his body. He tears off the sweatpants that were barely holding in there as he fully give himself to whatever is calling out for him, the drug, Ben Harrington, whatever. His body bulks beyond measure to become man enough to carry the vulgar package that lies in his crotch. He masturbates into the leg of his sweatpants torn asunder as his torso bulks up, evidence of his endless celebrations as a man of Beta Delta Alpha.

Bestial body hair begins to cover his torso as his beard grows thick and dark. The tangle of hair in his pits thickens and spreads enough that it, nor it’s dominating musk, could ever be hidden. Muscle bulges on his arms large enough to haul kegs and toss out fuckers that get to rowdy at their festivities. Beyond apathetic to manicuring his appearance as he knows he’ll have people lining up at his doorstep regardless of needless things like hygiene or cleanliness he rubs his thick sweat covered thighs and feels how sensitive every inch of his skin has become. 

He smirks as he imagines, recalls rather, how constantly he gets to enjoy the sensual opportunities offered by his new form. He’s got all he needs dangling between his thick thighs and everyone who matters already knows it. The president certainly does. Big D smirks as he thinks of their vacations together on the frat’s dime. He puts his arms behind his head and sniffs his musky pits as he lays in repose, a thick cloud of musky sweat surrounds him as he begins to hear the sound of festivities breaking out on the floor below him and someone’s fervent footsteps racing up the stairs to his den.

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Big D imagines that some couple is looking for an empty room with urgency. He paws at his crotch excited to join in on their fun. Instead he sees some nervous looking guy who freezes as soon as he sees the behemoth, fear in his eyes. “D-Dylan!? I- That drug, there was something, something s-” He stutters and his hands shake as Big D rolls his eyes and stands almost two heads taller than he should over Tony, one of their frat’s little party drug dealers. Still, he wouldn’t have come up here for no reason. Big D silences him with a finger and slams the door shut behind him. Tony’s brow furrows as he looks around the room in confusion. Even his perpetually drug-addled mind can tell something unreal, something impossible has happened to his friend. “That pill can’t have done this right?” Tony takes nervous breaths and Big D’s musk rapidly fills his lungs, distracting him from whatever petty issue brought him in. Who cares about concern when his small cock is beginning to rise from simply standing near the priapic titan.

Big D’s voice rumbles through Tony, making him weak at the knees, “You wanna have some fun don’t you?” The drug dealer can’t help but nod and swallow the drool pooling in his mouth as the bestial Adonis stands over him, cock dripping ever-ready for another round. Tony isn’t sure if he’s started tripping himself or what, but as he begins making out with the frat bro he finds himself not minding as memories of whoever Dylan was disappear. After all pleasure is the most important thing, and no one is better at spreading heady delight than Big D.

“Oh My God! You too??? Jesus what happen in this house?” said Edward, shocked to see his fraternity friends also turned into a hunk. He run to the outside of the bathroom and the whole alley filled with hot college boys taking selfie and lusting over their own muscle, some of them kissing and worshipping each other. Edward start to feel nauseous, his body drenched in sweat. He groaned as his brain filled with new memories and then several bros start to notice “Huhuh, look at him. Maybe he need some help to make the process quicker,” said Charlie the geography prodigy, now Carlos a talented football winger, pulling off Edward’s pants and start sucking his throbbing dick Outside of the house, Greg Willis and Frankie Duchamp high-fiving with each other as they perfectly finish their Coach order “With this, we’ll have enough member for all sports club in this college, and I can get some extra boys that I need to make a team” said Frankie, the captain of the football team.

The Boxers

Sometimes, the perfect life just finds you, bruh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I remember wondering why the thought got me hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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