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Swapsidite stone

--- Originally posted on 2019-10-17 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

ROMAN’S PERSPECTIVE

“Come on Roman, let’s get to work.”

I kicked off my small shoes and sulkingly walked into Mr. Jefferson’s house. I was still embarrassed that I had scratched his car during a neighborhood soccer game. All the other kids in the neighborhood were playing soccer with me, yet here I was, the only one who had to pay up. Just because I was the one who ran into his car and scraped my cleats across his door shouldn’t mean that I have to make it up to him all alone. I mean, how much can one twelve-year-old do anyway?

At least Mr. Jefferson was a pretty cool dude. He let me off fairly easy, saying that I just had to come over for one day and help around his house. He had moved into our neighborhood a few years ago, buying the entire rambler to himself. I’d always hear my parents talking about him, how they feared he was growing a little too old to stay a bachelor. I’d seen a few women come over to his house and stay the night, but no real signs of commitment. He seemed to be in his late 30s, maybe already in his 40s, the guy was definitely past his prime. Unkempt beard, flabby stomach, and poor choice in clothes, he wasn’t the best looking neighbor on the block. I didn’t know much about fashion, but everyone knows that the dress shirts, jeans, and flip-flops don’t go together. He even had a weird-looking necklace on, something I’d never seen before today.

No matter what I said about his body or clothing, my opinion was rather meaningless. Still waiting for puberty, my short, skinny, and hairless body wasn’t anything special. I wore a bulky football jersey and mesh shorts to make my appearance seem bigger, but I’m pretty sure it just made me look smaller.

Mr. Jefferson led me to his kitchen and showed me a stack of boxes.

“I need you to bring all of these downstairs,” he said in a deep voice, “I don’t have much for you to do today, so I hope you remember that, even though I don’t think you will.” He walked towards the living room and out of my view. What did he mean he didn’t think I’d remember this? Was he trying to make a backhanded comment or was he just being honest?

“It’s all super easy, Roman. I promise!” Mr. Jefferson shouted from the other room, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I shrugged it off and grabbed the first of the boxes. It was a little heavy, but I’d be able to manage. I walked around the house slowly, the weight causing my stride to be a little off. Once I had eventually found the staircase, I placed the box down and wiped my brow of sweat. It had become a little more than I had expected. Procrastinating the inevitable, I surveyed the area around me. I noticed Mr. Jefferson sitting in a yellow chair--he was in my view, but luckily I wasn’t in his. He held the necklace up to his face, examining it as if it was the first time he had ever seen it. I swear I saw him whisper a few words into it and saw it glow lightly, but before I could focus any more on it, he began to shift in his seat. I quickly picked up the box and, forgetting its weight, marched down the stairs.

— —

I carefully placed the last box down next to the others and ran up the stairs, my mediocre-sized feet making little noise. I walked into the main area, and, after pushing the brown hairs away from my eyes, found Mr. Jackson still sitting in his chair, smugly reading something on his phone.

“I’m done, Mr. Jackson,” I exclaimed proudly, my soft baritone ringing in the room. He slowly got up from the chair and guided me over to my next project.

Mr. Jackson and I had been pretty close these last few years. Ever since that one day I had stupidly run into his car during a soccer game, I had often come over to help with his other chores. Although he was only in his mid-thirties, the single man still had a lot to do around the house. After a while, he began to pay me for my work, persuading me to come over every summer. He even offered me a raise this year, saying that I should get some extra money before college in a few months. I probably could’ve gotten a better paying job, but my personal connection with Mr. Jackson made it hard to turn down. Luckily, it turned out to work for the best.

Ducking under a short ledge, we walked into a small closet behind the main bathroom.

“Alright, Ronan,” Mr. Jackson began, pointing to rolls of paper towels, “I need you to bring these down into the laundry room. Once you’re done with those, come and find me again; I’ll be in the same place as usual.”

Being that both Mr. Jackson and I were the same height, he didn’t have to grab anything down for me. He walked off as I grabbed the first few rolls, being able to fit a decent amount in between my large palms and toned arms. Over the school year, I made sure to start the healthy habit of working out, hoping to get ahead of the freshman fifteen. I had never really gotten into sports through high school, but I made sure to keep my body through the school gym during my senior year. It took me a while to start working at it, but progress eventually began to show. After only a few months, my body had firmed up with the beginnings of abs and some perceptible biceps and triceps. It wasn’t much, but I was fairly proud of myself. It also made an impression on my boyfriend, which became an extra motivator for me.

I strolled out of the closet and walked back towards the staircase downwards. I saw Mr. Jackson sitting in his chair again, scratching his small beard as he read a small book. I itched my own stubble with my shoulder as I descended, remembering how I had forgotten to shave this morning.

— —

Once I dropped the last load into the laundry room, I guided myself up the stairs, ready for the next assignment.

“Next thing?” I shouted as I strolled into the room where the other man sat.

“Finished so quickly, Robbie?” He quipped, getting up from his chair. He knew I was going to fly through that job in minutes. I barely had to put out any effort; my military experience made it rather simple to carry everything down.

“Got anything harder for me, bro?” I said, itching my buzz cut. I had just returned after four years in the service, which I had come to realize were some of the best years of my life. After graduating with a bachelor’s degree, I decided to draft myself into the military and spend some time overseas. My parents and friends didn’t approve at first, but after a while they realized it was good for me--and by that I mean my physical appearance.

Coming home to see my parents shocked faces a few days ago was one of the funniest moments I had experienced. When they saw the lumbering, muscular man walk out of the airport, they didn’t expect to hear their names coming from his [my] mouth. The military had given me a rather strict routine, providing me with an impressive 6-pack, defined upper arms, and powerful quads.

After spending some time with my family, I decided to visit my old friend next door. We had gone through most of school together, with my neighbor only two years older than me. I hadn’t been able to spend his thirtieth birthday with him a few weeks ago, so I was making it up by helping him move into his new house. He had bought his house from his parents, now owning the very place he grew up in. Assisting my old friend reminded me of when we were younger and I scratched his parents’ car during a game of soccer. I can still vaguely remember all the chores I had to do that day to pay for the damage.

“Since you’re so good at this,” he snarked, “I think I’ll give you something a little more difficult to do.” We both walked to his front door and, after grabbing my average-sized shoes, made our way to the backyard. I had been over here plenty of times, the two of us spending hours here when we were little, but now it looked almost completely different. The old playground and slide were removed, now replaced with a disheveled patch of grass and a modern fire pit. Where once stood the garden was now a brand new shed, and as my neighbor opened it, I realized it was where he stored all of his seasonal gear.

“I’d love it if you could mow the lawn for me,” he began, “it’s never really been my thing.” He smirked arrogantly, knowing I’d do anything he said because I missed his birthday. I pulled out an old lawnmower and pushed it out of the shed, my old friend had already gone back into his house. I adjusted my jersey, which fit perfectly tight on my frame, and pulled at the engine. The motor revved up, purring obnoxiously as it began. Although I was very athletic, mowing was still such a bore. As my long legs glided across the yard, I reminded myself to never miss another one of his birthdays again.

— —

I brushed over the last part of the lawn and let go of the brake, causing the motor to stop. I brought a palm up to my sweaty forehead, pushing the black hair back back on top of my head, revealing my receding hairline. I still can’t believe I agreed to mowing for Jackson--the guy’s no older than 25 afterall. He had the body for it too: we had worked out together before, so I knew he was fairly toned.

Then again, I had no problem at all with the physical exercise. Ever since returning home from the military 12 years ago, I had made sure to keep my body in shape. My muscularity isn’t exactly what it used to be (age does that), but I still take a vast amount of pride in my work. I still have the torso, arms, and legs of a football player, but now with the firm maturity of adulthood. I also still have the libido of a football player; no one told me that your cock gets meatier as time passes.

After pushing the lawnmower back into the shed, I made my way to the front of the house. I opened the door, kicked off my large shoes, and made my way to the living room. There, sitting comfortably in his yellow chair, was Jackson, reading his phone once again, his shirt lying on the floor.

“I was hot,” he replied, seeing my confused face. His voice was smooth, deep and youthful.

“Alright,” I said before yanking off my shirt, revealing a shaved, muscular torso with a black treasure trail. Bulging arms and wet, hairy pits also became visible to the world.

“I’m hot too.” The smell of my sweat and odorous armpits began to flood the room.

“I think I’m done with you for today, Richie,” Jackson muttered before plugging his nose, “but I think you do need a shower.”

“What?” I replied sarcastically, my deep, gravelly voice shaking the room, “You don’t like the smell of this?” I brought my furry underarm up to his face and shoved him playfully. I’ve known him since he was born, so we’re almost as close as we can be. I was already in highschool when he was born, and, being the neighbor, I became his babysitter. As the years flew by, babysitter became friend, workout buddy, and brotherhood, so teasing him with my pungent body odor wasn’t anything new. I knew he didn’t like it because he was straight, but I loved it. Being a homosexual, and a top, made dominating very erotic for me, but Jackson had no idea of my true sexuality. That was why I had to hide my giant boner as he found his way out of my pit.

“Ha!” I guffawed, “Now your going to smell like my pit sweat all day long.”

Jackson glared at me furiously, my beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Go take a shower before I kill you,” he said, pointing to the master bathroom.

“Oh, sure,” I retorted before walking off. He could never beat me: I was a man still in his prime. As I stripped myself of my clothes and stepped into the shower, I quietly stroked my dick. Once I got home, I’d have to furiously beat one out like many nights before, probably once again to the thought of Jackson.

— —

JAX’S PERSPECTIVE

I still can’t believe it worked!

With my life lately going to hell, this was my last, desperate choice. Nevertheless, it’s surprising that I even found the necklace in my basement; the people who had lived in the house before must have left it.

When I had found it a few days ago, there was a little note attached describing the name and purpose of the necklace. According to the description, the Swapsidite Stone, the strange chunk at the bottom of the necklace, would switch one of your traits with another person. The trade off however was that whatever you’d swap, the other person would receive double the original bargain. For example, if one person had decided to take a quarter of someone else’s intelligence, the first would receive the quarter bargained for, but the other would dumb down so much that it would seem like the first had taken half. As an added factor, only the person who had the stone one remember their own swap, the rest of reality would change accordingly. That was why I had to consider what I would take and give to someone else.

A few days after I had found the necklace, Roman scratched my car. It was only a coincidence, but I knew it was the perfect time to strike. It took me a while to figure out what I would trade between the two of us, but after a lot of thought I figured out what I desired the most: I wished to redo my past and find a woman to love. I regretted that most of my life I had remained a bachelor, and know was my time.

I decided to trade 20 years of my age to Roman, which meant that he would receive 40 years in total. I felt bad at first, but as I saw him change and reality adjust around us, I began to care less. I had gone from Mr. Jefferson, a 38-year-old loser, to Jax, an 18-year-old stud, in the course of one day, and the best part was that the changes were permanent. I was so excited that as soon as I saw the stone darken to its finish, I stripped down to my underwear and sat back in my chair. I now had the body of a high school jock: thick muscles, blonde haircut, pronounced pouch--it was perfect.

“Hey!” I heard a gruff voice shout from the bathroom, “Where did we put the towels?”

“Back counter!” I yelled back, my voice now a lighter baritone with a more innocent tone. As I sat in my chair, a large, older man walked out of the bathroom, wrapping a towel around his waist. Usually, the sight of a naked man would disgust me, but right now I was completely enthralled. In front of me stood a true adonis.

The man, who was now 52, had the body of an alpha male. Strong forearms, calves, and hips were brought together by incredibly large biceps, triceps, and quadriceps. Not only that, but there were a powerful set of abs hiding beneath two massive pecs, adorned with large nipples. The man’s face showed lines of maturity along the forehead, which were easily visible thanks to his recently-gelled graying hair. The beginnings of a beard also framed his lantern jaw, its shape just as perfect as the ridges of his collarbone. The last thing I noticed was the military academy ring he wore on his left hand, which lay in front of his graying pubes. I assumed there was both a massive dick and large set of balls hiding right underneath.

“What are you looking at?” his husky voice rumbled.

“Oh, uh, nothing,” I lied dumbly. Before I could react, he leaned over and snatched the necklace of my neck.

“And what have we got here?” he asked, looking at it oddly.

“Oh, just something I found in the basement,” I replied, giving him half the truth.

“So you wouldn’t mind if I tried it on?” he requested, catching me off guard.

“Sure?” I responded cautiously. He placed the necklace around his neck and smiled smugly.

“This is the Swapsidite Stone, correct?” He already knew the answer, but before I could react he had already muttered something into the stone. The stone began to shine dimly.

“Richard, I can explain, if you’d just-”

“Jax, I know you did something to me. I have no idea what you traded, but at least I know that you did something.”

“But Richard, I-”

“It’s Sir to you.”

“But, Sir-” I froze. Why had I just listened to what he had told me?

“I’ll tell you what I swapped between us, because it won’t matter soon enough.” ~~Richard~~ Sir pulled up a seat from across the room and sat right across from me. He placed the towel aside and let his naked body hang free, his enormous cock standing tall.

“I’ve had a crush on you ever since you entered high school. I’ve known you since you were born, I’ve raised you, I’ve made you who you are today, but now I’m going to make you into who I want you to be. You’ve never appreciated what I’ve done for you, so I’ll make it that way.” I had no idea what he was talking about. He was referring to the new reality, while I was still living the old, causing me to have no way to respond.

He took a deep breath before continuing, his tone becoming more serious, “You see, you stupidly left the description card in the bathroom, not even thinking about me finding it. Once I got out of the shower, I finally figured out why you were wearing that ugly necklace. Now it’s my turn to trade and I think you’ll like what it is.”

I tried to get up from the chair, to run away, but I was stuck. It was like I had no control.

“I’m taking half of your dominance. You know what that means right? I’ll become 150% the alpha male.” He leaned over closely, his hot breath on my cheek.

“And you’ll lose all free will. WIth this, I’ll be able to change anything about you that I want, no magic stones needed. Oh, and just to be safe,” he ripped the necklace off his neck and crushed the small stone between his hands, never to be recreated again.

“So I hope you remember that,” he smirked, leaning back, “even though I don’t think you will.”

— —

Something was poking at my hole, and I had now idea what. I slowly opened my eyes, finding a hairy forearm draped over my side. The smell of my dad’s body odor and cum poured from the sheets like a flood, almost as if they had been washed in them. Memories of the pounding dad gave me last night came into my head, causing my miniscule dick to harden. I remember my dad telling me that although it was almost as big as his, it was tiny. I knew he was right--he is always right.

“Morning, Jax,” I hear my dad groan as his dick pushes further inside of me. I moan as he begins to push in and out. This is how mornings usually go: waking up to the smell of old sex, discovering how intelligent and arousing my father is, and then him filling me with his cum. It was always a pleasing cycle.

About ten minutes later, after my insides were filled with his semun. I got up and went to go make breakfast, still in my birthday suit. It only took me minutes to prepare a protein shake and some eggs for my dad. It only took seconds for him to come clomping down the stairs with his abnormally large feet. He always had to specially order his shoes.

Before sitting down, my dad, who was also naked, brought a dirty cup to the tip of his penis and began to piss. A dark, yellow stream dripped in until it was full to the brim.

“Drink up, son,” my dad said as he handed me the cup, “it’s good for you.”

I greedily slurped the steaming liquid down my throat. It was going to be a long day of work ahead, so I had to eat and drink healthy. There were chores to do, dirty laundry to sniff, and fathers to please. I was excited to do it all.

Product Placement: Wet Dreams

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

Rick sat in front of his computer screen, quietly clicking through pictures of shirtless guys on the internet. He cautiously listened to make sure not of the other guys in his apartment were awake. He lived with two other guys that he had been friends with in college, and since graduation they had all been sharing a small apartment. Jim was getting married in a few months, so he spent a lot of time at his girlfriend's (now fiancee) house and wasn't home tonight. Connor worked late night's at a 24-hour gas station and wouldn't be home for hours. In either case, Rick was being cautious.

He locked the door to his room, which was shared with Connor, just in case. Over the last few months, Rick had noticed that he was craving porn more than usual. It was becoming an addiction. What was worse is that he had always thought he was straight, but found that gay porn was more appealing. There was something about how unashamed, passionate, and direct the men in the pictures and videos were towards one another. He unbuttoned his jeans and caressed his crotch as he clicked through pictures of shirtless bodybuilders, athletes, and models. He clicked on a picture of a hairy, muscular man that looked like he was taking a shower. Suddenly, his speakers were blaring rock music and an advertisement.

"MAN UP!!! (heavy rock music) YOU LOOK LIKE A MAN! (pictures of muscular man flexing) YOU THINK LIKE A MAN! (pictures of men watching sports) YOU WORK LIKE A MAN! (pictures of men lifting construction supplies) SO MAKE SURE YOU SMELL LIKE A MAN! (pictures of men lathering themselves with body wash)

Rick desperately tried to click out of the ad or mute his computer, but nothing seemed to work. He couldn't stop watching this pop-up video, and the more he watched, the less he tried stopping.

"SO MAN UP!!! AND SHOWER LIKE A MAN!!!"

As Rick watched the video, he could almost smell the strong musky scent of a sweaty man after a long day of work. He could smell the ripe body odor of a locker room. As the men showered in the video, he felt all of his worries slip away and felt relaxed and comfortable. He was still erect from before the ad and his cock swelled and released a stream of cum all over his shirt and pants. He wanted to stop the video, wipe up his mess, and go to bed before anyone came home, but the video had started a loop of a man in bright red underwear, rubbing himself down as water poured down from a shower head. The man was muscular and hairy, and looked sexy and confused as he showered. Rick settled in and felt refreshed and relaxed -- the smell of clean, fragrant body wash filled his nostrils and replaced the stench from before. He lost all sense of time.

A knock came at the door.

"Hey, Rick, the door is locked!"

Rick's trance ended and he noticed that the video had stopped. He slammed his computer screen and looked at the clock. It was 3:30 AM!!!

"Sorry, dude!" he said as he scrambled towards the door. He realized that his pants were still unzipped and that sticky cum had dried on his shirt and pants! He took off his jeans and threw them on a pile of clothes, quickly grabbing a pair of gym shorts. He opened the door and apologized to Connor.

"Must've forgot to unlock after I changed clothes..." Rick muttered, knowing that it was a lame excuse.

"Whatever ... it's no problem," said Connor as he walked over to his desk. "Just wondered why you were sleeping with the lights on and the door locked ..."

"Yeah ... sorry," replied Rick. The conversation was awkward enough, so Rick ended it by walking over to his bed and slipping under the covers. He tried to remember how he had fallen asleep in front of his computer, but couldn't quite come up with a reason. In any case, he was exhausted and drifted off to sleep.

--

Connor was fast asleep when Rick's alarm went off the following morning at 7:30 AM. Rick was still groggy from last night, but knew that Jim would wake him up if they missed their morning run at 8:00 AM. Rick and Jim had been good friends for years, and with Rick as one of the groomsmen for Jim's wedding, this was important bonding time for the two of them. Rick quietly grabbed his running shirt and went to the kitchen, where Jim was brewing coffee for when they got back.

"You ready?" Jim asked. "A little tired, but I'll wake up," Rick replied. They opened the door and Rick almost tripped a small package in their hallway. It was a small white cardboard box with action-font letters that said "MAN UP!" and was addressed to Rick.

"Looks like you got a package," said Jim as he stretched out before they ran. Rick opened it up and saw that it was a red plastic bottle that was some kind of body wash or shampoo. There was a not saying "Try a free sample of MAN UP! body wash! SMELL LIKE A MAN!" Rick set it on the kitchen counter and closed the apartment door, ready to go for a run.

As they ran, Jim and Rick didn't talk, but on their way back, they decided to walk so they chatted a little about the wedding, their work, and anything else to fill the silence of the morning. Sweat had soaked Rick's shirt and he seemed more tired than usual.

"You sure you don't need to stop or something," asked Jim.

"Nah, I'm alright," Rick lied. He actually felt a little sick and it seemed like his body odor was stronger than usual. "Let's just go home, I'm fine." Rick started to jog, feeling light headed but pushing through the pain and the odor. When he got home, he headed straight for the shower, because he had to get read for work and didn't want to miss his bus.

The bathroom door was open and it looked like Connor had recently used the shower because the mirror was still steamed up.

"You go first," said Jim.

Rick hopped in the shower and turned on the water, thankful to get out of his smelly running clothes. He reached for his shampoo bottle and saw that it was empty.

"Shit," he said to himself. He saw another bottle on the shower's shelf -- the bottle of body wash from the strange package this morning. It looked like it had been used. Connor was always stealing their stuff, which is probably why he had run out of shampoo faster than he could buy it at the grocery store. He cursed to himself and grabbed the bottle.

The smell was noxious at first and smelled like an old gym bag, but eventually it softened into a mellow, manly scent. Rick felt the water streaming down him and relaxed as he breathed in the smell deeply. He remembered having this feeling before and a image of a toned, muscular man was projected in his mind. He rubbed his body with the lather and felt a chill combined with the heat of the rushing water. He lost track of time as his thoughts wandered.

Someone banged on the door -- it was Jim shouting "You'll miss your bus!"

He opened his eyes and realized that he had been in the shower for far too long. He also realized that his cock was fully erect -- something he'd have to hide in the towel. He quickly dried himself off and hurried to the bedroom. Connor was standing by his desk, wearing only his underwear and eating a bowl of cereal. He looked taller than usual and seemed to have a hairy chest than Rick remembered, but he was too busy to say anything. Plus, it is a little awkward to comment about your roommate's body when you are both half-naked. Rick looked at Connor expecting him to give him a little privacy as changed. He walked past him into the kitchen. Rick grabbed his jeans from the pile of clothes, and realizing that they were the cum-covered ones from last night, cursed as he buried them in the pile and grabbed new ones from the drawer. He zipped up his pants, which felt thinner at the waist (probably from the running!) and buttoned his shirt, which was tight on his biceps and chest. His jeans seemed a little short than usual as he tied his shoes, but he had no time to change again or he would miss his bus completely. He said goodbye to his roommates, first to Jim, who was taking off his shirt in the bathroom, and then to Connor, who stood in the kitchen examining the hair in his armpits.

--

Rick rushed onto his bus and took a seat next to an older woman. After a few minutes on the bus, he could tell that she felt really uncomfortable. Her face seemed turned up in disgust whenever Rick adjusted his posture. Then Rick realized what she was so disturbed by -- his stench! The smell of body odor seemed to pour off of him. He reached past her and pulled the cord for the next stop. The woman recoiled as more of his scent wafted over her. He was still four blocks away, but was so embarrassed that he needed to get off the bus. Once on the sidewalk, Rick realized that his clothes were much tighter than he remembered. After walking for a block, he realized that his shirt was soaked again and that he felt physically exhausted. It was like every muscle of his body was aching and burned in pain. He felt like he needed to throw up, so he walked into the nearest store and asked for the bathroom. The barista at the coffee shop he barged into looked disgusted and pointed him to the back. He splashed some water on his face and realized that his beard had grown thick and full. He hadn't shaved that morning, but it looked like a beard that had taken a month to fill in. He unbuttoned his shirt because it was uncomfortable tight and pulled out his phone to call his boss. He explained that he would be late to work, but every moment he felt worse. He called Jim, hoping that he could get a ride home so he could clean up and start the day over.

"Yeah, I feel like shit" "Can you pick me up?" "I'm at that coffee shop a few blocks away" "Thanks, I owe you!"

Rick pulled off his shirt, leaving just his tank top on as he walked back through the coffee shop to the street. His muscles looked bigger and he felt taller too. But, there was a stench that made everyone in the coffee shop look away. He sat on the curb, taking off his shoes because they didn't fit, though that contributed even more to the smell.

Jim pulled up in a few minutes, "Get in!" he said as he rolled down the window. The car smelled fresh and clean, and Rick noticed that Jim's hair was still wet. It smelled like the body wash that he had used this morning and that made Rick feel more relaxed.

"What happened to you?" Jim asked.

"I don't know, man. I left the apartment just fine, but on the bus I felt sick, and then I got all sweaty, and then my beard look weird ..."

"Well, I feel a little off too ... not sure why?" Jim answered. "And Connor went back to sleep ... maybe we all got food poisoning or something!"

Rick tried to answer, but the smell of the body wash in Jim's car made him just sit back and relax.

When they made it back to the apartment, they found Connor standing in the bathroom with the door open. He was staring at his reflection in the mirror.

"Guys, what's happening to me?" he said as he looked at his gorilla-like muscular body covered in dark black hairs. "I don't feel the same."

"I don't know, but we feel the same," said Jim. He walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He took off his shirt and saw that reddish-blonde hairs covered his chest. His beard was thick and scraggly and he had the body of some Viking warrior. Rick followed him into the bathroom, drawn by the steam and the smell of being clean. He finished undressing and saw that his muscular body was covered in thick brown hair. On his shoulder was a tattoo and his cock seemed to bulge out of his underwear.

"I'm going to take a shower," Rick said in a monotone voice.

"Me too," said Jim and Connor in unison.

They all stepped into the shower and took turns standing under the water, lathering each other methodically as there new bodies glistened and rippled. After a few minutes, the bottle of bodywash was empty and then stood there staring blankly at their reflections in the mirror. In the sound of the water, they heard a voice chanting, "YOU LOOK LIKE MEN! YOU THINK LIKE MEN!"

Rhythmically, then chanted along as they stroked each other's cocks and made out in the bathroom, spraying water, cum, and soap everywhere. They drifted off into a deep trance ...

--

Rick woke up in this room, naked on the floor. Lying next to him was Connor, whose hairy arms were wrapped around him. After a moment of panic, he remembered how he had taken a shower ... and Connor was there ... and so was Jim ... and they ... well, I guess he never realized that he and his roommates were THAT into each other. Rick slowly stood up, noticing that he his cock was stiff with morning wood. Or, maybe it was that he was aroused by the muscular, hairy, man lying in their room. He had always hated Connor, who was a terrible roommate, but now he looked at him and was entranced. He watched him breathe and imagined kissing him or sucking his cock. Connor grunted in his sleep and shifted his weight. As he rolled over on the floor, Rick smelled his manly, musky scent and sighed in ecstasy. It was intoxicating. Rick lifted his massive arms and smelled that his armpits matched the strong odor. He heard noises in the kitchen and went out to see that Jim was washing dishes -- completely naked.

"Dude, what happened last night?" he asked, his blonde-red beard chiseled from his cropped hair. "I mean ... look at us!" Rick looked at Jim's bulging muscular body, which was covered in thick hair and dotted with patches of tattoos. "When did I get these tattoos? And look at you!" Jim added, nodding at Rick's massive erect cock and balls. "That's new!" They both laughed.

There was a moment of awkward silence, which Rick finally broke by quietly saying.

"Jim ... I think I'm gay..."

After a pause, Jim walked over and embraced his roommate. "I love you man!" he said, but added "As a brother!" They both smiled. "After last night, I figured I'm probably bi-sexual, but I can't wait to call Kim! She's gonna freak when she sees me ... but the wedding is totally on!"

As Jim walked back towards the kitchen, Rick could smell the fresh scent of bodywash drifting in from the bathroom.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Rick said.

He looked himself over in the mirror -- entranced by his massive body and masculinity. He loved himself and was hornier than ever thinking about how he would use this "curse"! He stepped into the shower and felt the trance of the water mixing with the smell of the bodywash as all of his impurities melted away. He poured the last drop of liquid from the "MAN UP" onto his hands and rubbed it over his chest and down to his hairy crotch. His mind started to feel numb as his passions changed. He lived for his new image and wanted to fuck as many guys as possible - starting with Connor, and maybe Jim if he wanted, he imagined his life of living as a MAN -- someone who lives for pleasure, for danger, for every drop of life. After drying himself off, he stepped into the living room, where he saw Connor standing naked with a bowl of cereal by the kitchen corner. He walked over, dropped his towel, and in an animal passion, fucked him on the kitchen counter as the smell of his bodywash and Connor's unwashed ass mixed with dark roast coffee, cinnamon, and vanilla.

Ostello della Moda: Bruno

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

Dylan hated Italy so far. It wasn't really "Italy's" fault, but his travel plans had been messed up. His plane leaving New York had been delayed, which meant he missed his connecting flight in Amsterdam, etc...but he was finally there. The airline had helped him arrive only a few hours later than expected in Milan, but it was frustrating nonetheless. He hadn't slept for hours and was exhausted by the time he arrived at "Ostello della moda." He had received some texts from Walter and Tyler, both of whom were supposed already at the hostel, but Nico at the front desk seemed confused about their arrival schedule. He insisted that everything was fine.

"Just need passport and paperwork. All is good," he said re-assuredly. "Your friends are coming. Or, maybe they go out for the night. I will help," he said. Dylan was too tired to eat any of the food. Even though he was a picky eater, he had managed to get a plump belly and flabby chest by his mid-twenties. Italian food wasn't really his "thing" and he just wanted to sleep. He dragged his suitcase to his room, panting and sweating in the hot humid hallway. He unlocked the door and threw his things on Bunk B. Someone was in the shower and Dylan wondered if maybe it was Tyler or Walter, but before Dylan could leave the room to avoid an awkward encounter, out stepped a steaming, muscular Italian man.

"Hi...I'm Dylan ... I mean ... 'Bruno,'" he corrected as he pointed to his name tag.

"Ciao! Antonio," replied the man without hesitation. "Eh, welcome to room ... eh, I go out ... eh ... downstairs?"

"Sure," said Dylan. "Have you seen someone named Walter?"

"Ooh-alter?" replied Antonio. "No."

Antonio left the room, leaving Dylan to himself. Since two of the beds were already occupied, he wondered if there was some mistake. Dylan was sure that they had ordered an entire room with five bunks, but maybe he missed something in the translation. In either case, Dylan was exhausted. He laid down on the bed, his eyes immediately closing.

He woke up a few hours later and the room was sweltering hot and it was dark outside. Dylan was still wearing his dirty travel clothes, so he stripped down to his underwear and walked over to the window, hoping to maybe let in some fresh air. He looked out across the street and saw dozens of young people walking around and enjoying the busy nightlife.

"So much for going out tonight..." he said as he rubbed his throbbing head and tried to swallow saliva from his dry mouth. He went into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face and drank with his hands. He looked in the mirror and saw a pair of dark brown eyes staring back. He blinked and his eyes returned to their blue-green.

"Fuck..." he whispered, realizing how exhausted he still was. He slumped back into bed letting the cool night air and the sound of the street wash over him as he lay on his bunk.

He tossed and turned, and the sheets felt like pin pricks and his body was hot. After maybe an hour, his two roommates burst into the room. Discussing in rapid Italian and clearly staggering from too much beer.

"Dov'è Bruno?" they shouted, followed by "Bruno, sveglia!" They pulled Dylan from his bed, but he was still half-asleep. They handed him a bottle of beer and helped him into a shirt, jeans, and sandals.

"No ... let me sleep ... I'm not Bruno ... I'm ... tired ..." Dylan protested. But they insisted and pulled him into the hallway. On his way down, he drank a little of the bottle and felt more relaxed. They had dressed him in a pink brotank and tight jeans and marched him towards the door. They crossed the street and Dylan finished his beer as they plopped him into a chair. A man took a clippers and shaved his head. He heard a high buzzing sound and felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. Groggily, Dylan saw himself in the mirror. The reflection was a muscular, hairy, man with cropped hair, scruffy stubble, and arms and chests covered in tattoos. The man worked with the needle on another tattoo.

Surprisingly, the chubby, blonde boy that had come to Italy was erased with the very definition of "macho." Even in his pink tank top, he looked every inch like an Italian brute. As the alcohol took more effect and the hypnotic whining of the tattoo needle continued, he heard a name repeated over and over until it became his own. He was Bruno. His friends convinced him to go out tonight, and he was glad they did. Bruno was always looking for a good time. And everytime he partied or caused mayhem, it was another badge of honor for his image as the "Uomo supremo." He would get another tattoo to prove it.

Here's to 28!

--- Originally posted on 2019-06-17 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

Not only was it the final day of my senior year, it was my birthday, and my plan was nearly complete. After thorough research through numerous different libraries, online sites, and a few difficult equations, I was finally going to get everything I had dreamed of for the big 18!

It had all started in early March, a little while after the tennis team had begun their practices. The sun was shining, the snow was finally melting; spring was upon us. However, it was only about 50 °F, so when I walked by and saw that Julian Richardson, the varsity team captain, was wearing nothing but some skimpy running shorts, all I could do was bite my lip in frustration.

One of the top jocks in the highschool, Julian had everything anyone could have wanted; great looks, tons of money, extremely popular, etc. He looked much more like a senior in college than one in high school. Not only did he have the brawn, but the brains too. He was part of many different clubs outside of athletics, he was even the vice president of the Mathematics Leagues in our state. Now all of this definitely made me jealous, but the worst part about him was his pride. As stated millions of times by not only himself, but his sexual conquests too, he was 100% gay. He was extremely proud of it, so much in fact that he wore something to showcase it everyday. Today, it was a stupid wristband that I noticed as he adjusted his luminous blond hair. Growing up in a good-old, traditional American family, I knew that everything about Julian was against what my Christian beliefs had told me, and it was my job to try and stop it.

After seeing him, I began to rush home, eager to begin my research. Right before I got to my house, I heard a voice call out to me.

“Hey, Jake!” My neighbor, Michael, emerged off his porch, “You look like you’re in a rush.” Michael was a man in his late forties, but he certainly didn’t look like it. He was blessed with decent genetics and regularly visited the gym so he was fairly defined. He had always lived in the house right next to mine as long as I could remember, yet he had always lived alone. He took trips out of town every now and then, and sometimes he had friends over who’d stay the night. I was closer with him when I was little, but as I ventured into adolescence we grew more apart. Something about his, lifestyle, seemed a little off to me.

“Yeah,” I said, a little flustered. I must have been going faster than I had thought. “I have a new… erm… game that I’m excited to play.” My conscience had always made it hard for me to lie.

“Oh, well, hope you enjoy it.” Michael seemed a little suspicious, but just shrugged it off and walked back to his porch. After he turned away, I rushed into my house and ran up to my room, excited to begin. I turned on the computer, and while waiting for it to load, I looked out my window. I had a nice view of Michael’s house, but beyond that I could see the entire town.

Once I had finally logged into my computer, I began my project. First, I had plans to try and find dirt on him before publicizing it, but after hours spent on looking through countless websites, I found nothing. Then, after the original failure, it occured to me what I had to do. If I wanted to fix him, it had to be me in charge - I can’t trust him to change his ways. My next plan began to develop right before my eyes.

Over the next week after seeing Julian at tennis practice, I researched multiple different options. Body swapping, transformation, disappearance. After some heavy searching, I finally landed on genetic displacement. In this process, I would have to create some weird liquid concoction with strange ingredients that I’d never heard of before, combine it with some form of DNA from the intended victim, and then drink it. Then, over the course of a few minutes, the DNA from the victim would rapidly multiple and displace the DNA of the drinker, causing a genetic shuffle that would eventually change the entire body of the drinker and make them look like an identical copy of the victim permanently. I would look like his identical twin, but I’d still have my mind, personality, and soul. The directions were simple, but I just had to make sure I got everything right because the side effects looked insane. Stuff about brainwashing, amnesia, personality disorders, and other terms I couldn’t even pronounce threw me off, but as long as the victim and drinker were less than 2 years apart in age, everything would be fine. Luckily for me, Julian and I were born on the same day, which was another reason why I hated him.

The next three months rolled by. A few purchases of various items with strange names, rigorous searching to find them, and plenty of studying had lead to the last day. Luckily, my immense intellect made everything easier. For some reason, the ingredients always came a day or two late of the planned delivery, but that’s just the black market I guess. I had lurked in my room for hours on end, with the sun slowly descending through my window as I worked away. I really should have shut the shades to block out the light, but I never bothered too. I finally had everything ready by the last day of school, and all I had to do to finish the final part of my plan was to find a fresh piece of Julian’s DNA.

The last day of school was fast. I didn’t really pay attention to my finals or others; I was just too excited to finally finish my project, and the fact that everyone was celebrating Julian’s birthday instead of mine made it all the more unbearable. Finally, the end of the day came and students rushed out the doors. I calmly stayed behind, lurking a safe distance behind the tennis team. They had a short practice today, so this would be my only chance to snag something of Julian’s. As I saw the players casually hit the balls between courts, I snuck my way into the men’s locker room. After a minute of looking around, I finally found Julian’s rainbow sports bag. I dug my hand in, a little disgusted to be groping around another man’s dirty clothes, but eventually I found something. In the bottom of his bag was an old, white sock, obviously worn out from wear. It was pretty big in my hand, and - disgustedly - I brought it up to my nose for a timid sniff. I reeled back, getting a putrid scent of male foot and sweat, it was definitely fresh. As much as I hated to think about it, this nasty sock had enough DNA seeped into it for my concoction. I tossed it in my bag and ran home, sprinting the entire way, ecstatic that all my work was about to pay off.

After running between my room and the kitchen, I was finally ready to finish my project. Neither of my parents would be home tonight, so I had the house to myself.The sock and other ingredients sat all on the counter, ready to be mixed together. All I had to do was blend all of the components together without the DNA, and then pour it into a pot and boil it. After that, I’d throw the DNA in and (after letting it cool) drink it down, holding my nose shut of course. Then I’d find somewhere to sit and get comfortable, because apparently your body would freeze up until the transformation was finished. It took me a while to combine all of the ingredients together, and once it was mixed together it looked like a slushie without syrup. I ran over to the stove, ready to turn it on, but was met with a large sticky note on the dial.

“Oven broken?” I angrily read out loud, “No! How is this possible?” I quickly thought to myself how I could boil the concoction. I had to do this today, otherwise the DNA would become old. Sadly, only one idea came to my mind, but it was the only one I could think of.

“Jake!” Michael exclaimed, opening his door, “How can I help you?”

“Hey, Michael,” I smiled courteously, “I have a favor to ask.”

Michael led me into his house as I described that I was making a present for my mother’s upcoming birthday, but my stove wasn’t working. He graciously offered his and said that I could come by whenever to use it until mine was fixed.

“I have to go get something from the backyard, but if you need me I’ll be right upstairs afterwards.” He smiled as he opened the backdoor and left. I quickly fired up the stove and place the small pot a burner, happy that I’d finally finish. As I the concoction began to bubble, I realized something was missing: the sock! I carefully took the pot off of the burner and ran back to my house. As I sprinted past, I saw Michael walking back in, smiling as I dashed past. I burst through the front door and flew into the kitchen, grabbing the sock before running back. As soon as I got back to Michael’s kitchen, I pushed the pot back onto the heated burner and threw in the sock right as it began to boil. I stirred the liquid until I no longer felt anything solid in the liquid. Then, I took a cup from the cupboard, threw in some ice, and poured the soup-looking drink into the cup. The drink cooled down instantly, almost filling the cup.

“Here’s to 18!” I held my nose shut, said a quick prayer, and drank it all down in one go.

Once the drink was gone, I let out a huge belch. I quickly cleaned up the mess I had made in Michael’s kitchen and got ready to leave. I had to be fast enough to get to my house so I could transform in private. Right as I was about to walk out the door however, my conscience got the better of me. It would only take me a few seconds to thank Michael and then I could ditch. I dropped my things and walked upstairs, going towards the only room that had a light on. As soon as I opened the door, I nearly peed myself. Sitting right on the edge of the master bed was Michael, taking a picture of himself in the mirror, only wearing a tight, blue athletic shirt and a snug pair of underwear.

“Oh, you must be ready,” Michael said, taking note of my presence, “Do you like what you see?”

All I could do was keep staring at Michael, his body the perfect male specimen. For a man just under fifty, somehow he had maintained the body of an adonis. For some reason, I couldn’t look away, all I could do was stare.

“Here, I’ll help you.” Michael slowly walked over to me. I knew something was wrong, but for some reason I couldn’t move. The transformation must have just begun! He slowly stripped off all of my clothes as I stood there. As he slowly worked off my clothes, I could smell his natural musk emanating from his body. Once he was done, he lifted me up and placed me in a chair. Once he was done, Michael sat in one across from me, manspreading to show who was in charge.

“So, I expect you’re quite confused right now,” he said calmly, smirking, “but that’s alright, I will explain everything while you transform.”

My eyes widened. How did he know my plans? Did I make it obvious?

“First, let’s start with the fact that you should keep your blinds shut from prying neighbors, like me.” He motioned towards his own, which were shut, “After a week or two, I got curious as to why you were always up so late, so concentrated on your computer. Your lying is pretty pathetic, so I knew something was up, so I began to dig.”

As he spoke, my legs began to stretch out. My body was slowly pushed up into the chair as my calves pushed themselves apart. Muscle began to crawl across my legs as my thighs and quads became thick and strong, letting small veins pop out. My butt also plumped up, muscle filling in my rear and giving me two firm globes in the back. As my legs and butt finished strengthening, hair erupted all across the surface. It started out fairly blond, but then darkened to a more mature brown. I thought Julian had all blond hair, but I’ve only ever seen him from a distance so it must have just looked lighter.

“Next, I began to do a little investigation into what you might be doing. When the first package was being delivered, I caught the mailman and told him there had been a mistake and that the packages where supposed to go to me. After some heavy convincing, he finally obliged and all the packages went to my house before I dropped them off at yours.”

My chest began to bulge out, expanding tremendously. It too added to my height as abs began to pop into existence, creating a hard, cobblestone path from my belly button to my new pecs. As my pecs created their own shelf on top of my stomach, I felt my nipples perk up as they became slightly larger and more sensitive. Blond hair began to spread out over my torso, before it to darkened to the same brown as my legs. I had never seen Julian with this much hair, but he usually shaved. Plus, he barely every wore a shirt, so that was probably why his chest hair was blond - it must’ve been brown in the winter.

“After carefully opening the few boxes, I had quickly figured out what you were trying to do. Those items were very rare, so when you put them together in a search bar it only comes up with a few options. Once I figured out your plan, I had to figure out who your target was, and let me tell you that was difficult to find.”

As he continued, my arms began to fill out. Strong biceps began to appear as my triceps filled themselves in with muscle. Veins appeared on my forearms as my hands began to grow, becoming firmer and more calloused. Brown hairs also began to crawl along my arms as my armpits began to fill up, getting bushier by the second. I didn’t remember Julian having such hairy armpits, or the awful smell that was now emitting from them, but he must’ve always worn heavy deodorant.

“Once I figured out that you were targeting Julian Richardson, that’s when I decided to get involved. Originally, I was just curious to see what you were doing, but after that I knew I had to stop you. I began to read over the directions and ingredients again and I realized the only way I could tamper it was if I dealt with the DNA.”

My neck began to bulge as an enlarged Adam’s apple began to appear. I coughed a bit, causing my voice to adjust down a few registers. My voice began to also mature, sounding a little older. Although Julian looked much older, he still sounded like a teen with a life ahead of him, so this was strange to me.

“It took me a bit to figure out when you wanted to execute the plan, so when the last ingredient came in the mail a few days ago, I knew I could set you up for the last day of school. Not only would you be extremely excited with your plan about to be finished, but the natural adrenaline from the last day of your high school career would definitely kick in, having you lose focus.”

My head slowly lengthened out, becoming looking more ovular then circular. My jaw became more defined as my teeth straightened out. My nose grew straighter and smaller as a light stubble appeared, giving me a naturally wise look. I felt my hair shorten up and style itself. If I could have looked in a mirror, I could’ve seen my hair and eyes turn brown.

“So, this morning I went over and put a little note on your stove to say it was broken, and with you in your frantic state you never even tried to turn it on. I knew your only option to save your plan would be to ask me, and I kindly obliged. You only brought the pot with you, not even thinking about the DNA, so as soon as I walked outside, I ran over to your house - which you kindly left open - and looked for it. It took me a bit to figure out what I was looking for, but as soon as I saw the sock on the counter I knew what I had to do. I quickly pulled off my shoe, placed my sock in the exact same position as Julian’s, and then put my shoe on and walked out of the house. When you ran past me, I knew you’d be in for a surprise in a few minutes. With all the teenage adrenaline and excitement, you didn’t even notice that the sock was slightly yellower, or the different brand. The best part is, my feet are Size 16, so you didn’t even see that the sock was much larger than Julian’s Size 12.”

Michael held up Julian’s sock in front of my face, just close enough so I could smell it. He smirked as he saw my feet begin to lengthen out along the floor. My toes began to splay out further as my feet became meatier. Thick veins began to adorn the tops of my feet as dark hairs began to appear as well. Michael placed his foot on top of mine, and although I couldn’t move, I could see that looked almost identical, just with mine being younger.

“That’s a good look for you,” he said, before getting up and pulling his chair closer to mine. Once he sat down again, he carefully place his feet on either side of my sack, massaging it. I quickly grew hard.

“I knew that’d you’d have to come up here and thank me, you Christians and your conscience, so I quickly placed myself in a position that would stall you before your transformation begin. And here we are now, where it looks like we are near the end.”

Michael motioned to my pouch, which had expanded almost 4 inches as I had listened to him. I used to be average, but now I must have had almost ten inches of hard, veiny meat. Not only that, but a huge, wiry bush of brown hairs had replaced my previous non-existent ones. My balls were churning, the massage from the large feet making them much bigger and heavier. They looked almost identical to the outline from Michael’s underwear.

“So, now we’re here, I replaced Julian’s sock with mine, but there’s still one part I have mentioned yet. Remember the side effects and rules of this concoction? I bet you do.”

He smirked as my eyes quickly began to shake with panic.

“Now I am much farther than two years from you, so I did some further research into the side effects and it said that the drinker will end up somewhere in the middle, depending on the amount of DNA. The socks were dirty and rank, but it looks like it was not enough to put you into your thirties, but I’d say you’d look like me in my late twenties, so we’ll say your 28, 20 years apart from me so no one raises any questions. That's a good distance for me to be your father.”

I immediately got confused, and it wasn’t only from what he had just said. My mind had begun to feel cloudy ever since he began to massage my pouch. Maybe it was one of the side effects of the conco.... liquid.

“You see, ever since you started distancing yourself from me when you were little, I knew you were straying down the wrong path. You found out why I lived all alone in this house, and yet you would never admit it to yourself. You would never allow yourself to think I was possibly gay, that those trips I would take out of town weren’t work related, or those friends I had over were more than just friends. Well, now I’m going to raise you right. As soon as you release, you’ll black out from all the pent up pressure from me edging you and your transformation will be complete. Once your out, I’ll not only make sure you don’t remember any of this, but I’ll create a whole new life for you. The best part is, I barely have to do any work! With all the side effects of memory loss, personality confusion, and so much more, I can make you into whatever I want you to be. You won’t only be my son, but you’ll be my kinky, dumb lover.”

My pouch was throbbing, begging for release as Michael massaged them with his feet.

“Now on the count of three, you will release and pass out. Are you ready, Jake?”

I tried to shake my head, but I couldn’t. My eyes must’ve shown so much fear, for Michael’s smirk suddenly got wider.

“Three.”

My mind clouded over as I felt my sack tighten.

“Two.”

My body tensed up, I could feel it coming.

“One.”

Michael stopped massaging and gripped my pouch with his feet. I released and then immediately blacked out.

——

I woke up to the sound of bacon frying in the kitchen. My head hurt, like I had just been studying too hard or something. I slowly pushed myself up and noticed a phone laying next to me. I clicked the home button and noticed there was a track playing. All it said was “Final Track.” I wondered what it was playing through, and then I realized I had the earbuds on. There were words and phrases playing on loop. I tried to concentrate, which was pretty hard, but eventually I could make out the words. It was some sort of conversation between jocks.

“Bro, let’s go suck a dick!”

“Yeah, being gay is sick, bruh!”

“And your dad, what a stud, broski, he’s so hot.

“I’d suck his dick any day.”

“He’s so smart too, lucky that you don’t have to do any of the thinking, bro!”

“Yeah, Broseph, you’re so dumb you have a below-average IQ.”

“What’s IQ, bro?”

And then the track ended with the jocks all guffawing at the joke. I chuckled, my deep voice mimicking their laugh. For some reason, I found it funny.

I rolled out of the bed, pushing the blue comforter back. I clomped my huge feet down the stairs towards the kitchen, my hard dick swaying with each step. I walked into the kitchen, where I saw my naked dad cooking food on the stove. His bubble butt swayed as I took a seat at the table, my own naked skin cold against the metal chair. I watched my dad cook, getting harder while I watched his muscled body sway. He slowly turned away from the stove, his dick just above the frying pan. He pissed right into the pan, making sure the bacon was extra greasy.

“Happy Birthday, Jordan,” Dad said as he dropped a plate full of bacon right in front of me, “How was your night?”

“Great!” I said, shoving the bacon eagerly down my throat. He came up behind me and patted my shoulders, his hard cock pushing against my back.

“What did you dream about?” He said, slowly beginning to grind against me.

“Well,” I began, “first it with me with my bro, Brad, and we were heading to town. Then, in came this cute twink who I destroyed, and then it ended with me smelling your shoes while jacking off.”

“A perfect ending to that dream it sounds like,” he said, slowly kissing my neck as he continued to grind. My back became slick with precum.

“Totally,” I shoved the rest of my bacon in my mouth and put my dishes in the sink.

“Where you going?” Dad asked, smacking my butt as I ran up the stairs.

“Got a soccer game in twenty minutes with the bros, it’s for my birthday!” I ran into my dad’s bedroom and looked through the dirty clothes hamper. I grabbed a sweaty gray tee, two black socks, and a pair of sweat shorts that smelled like piss and cum. I smiled, happy with my choice, not even bothering with underwear. Commando always accentuated my pouch better anyway. I ran down the stairs and grabbed my large vans. As a slipped my feet in, they were greeted with puddles of my dad’s piss. Back ten years ago, when I was still highschool, my dad would do this before every game for good luck. He knew I loved it so much that he kept the tradition even after I had dropped out. There was no way I was going to finish, all I’m good for is playing games with the bros and helping my dad whenever he needs it.

“Thanks, Dad.” I said, kissing him before I left.

“Of course, Jordan,” he replied, returning the kiss and grabbing my bulge, “and don’t forget this.” He handed me a fanny pack with the lunch he made me. I quickly looked inside and was happy to see one of his famous homemade protein shakes. He always made sure to make it with natural protein.

“Let me get a picture of you for your birthday.”

“Dad, I’m gonna be late.”

“Listen or I’ll spank you.” It wasn’t really a threat, he knew I’d like it, but I got the message. I crouched in front of our houseplants, showing off my junk.

“Sexier!” My dad said, I shuffled a little more and tried to look smug. He smiled as he took the picture.

“Here’s to 28!”

Gnarly Tides

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

--- Note: Pokémon Gym Leader TF ---

We are back at the same location! Same place, same time, same method! Well slightly different one, a tweaked version of what will happen to the fellow victim from the previous story. Only this time, its from the OTHER soon to be-surfer's perspective. As such, the story starts off with his perspective. Seran, being called here by his friend, Baikoha, via text.

Dude you've gotta check this out!

I'm having a blast with Swimming! Coach wants you to tag along!

Bring your goggles along too man!

Obviously, knowing his friend, its totally odd that he would post a message like that. Baikoha didn't want to attend Sports Week much less enjoy those "swimming lessons". Not to mention he actually complained about it yesterday at his dorm...

Seran walked towards the open pool, letting his really long brown hair down as he gazed over the line of participants for this year's "Jockification Week", or so what people described. 'They turned guys and girls into jocks, full of school spirit and cocky bravado!' was apparently what some people described what happened to their friends...how farfetched, well, aside the fact that even his own friend posted that weird message back to him.

The invited-teen peered over for his friend for a few moments, unable to find him. Probably already in the pool by then, Seran assumed, scratching his growing beard down below his lip. The thin-lanky man has to be at the beach in about an hour from now, skipping out an hour's worth of sleep to originally bail with him so they could dodge sports week together, though his friend's apparent change of heart as shown in his message...it was weird, really weird.

Probably at this moment, Seran's mind wondered even more about those Jockification rumors he'd heard from the other newbies. "What if they were true?" Was the first stereotypical soon-to-be-victim thought anyone would have. He recalled the goggles he and his friend discussed yesterday, him being the lucky person that received a limited edition "Marlon & Brawly branded goggles." To his surprise, the other pair was inside the gift box that was laid in his doorstep this very morning!

To be honest, it looks awfully strange, with shiny plastic lenses and their sides being being labelled with the numbers 1-2-3-4-5. Coloured completely black with shiny orange lenses. He wanted to go and tell his friend about this too, though it'd be better just to surprise him. Right?- SPLASH!-Wow some douchebag splashed water on him---SHONE!--"WHA--?"

He sensed the sides of the goggles glowing, sending pulsating charges to the lenses as they glowed a bright orange, shining brightly as though its a conjoined process. Glowing and overwhelmings strongly on the inside of the lens, past the helpless victim's past through the corners of his brain, touching the commands and subjects that make a person-them.

"ARGH! My eyes--huh?" Like an enormous tidal wave that's about to wash over a helpless surfer, he felt like his body became paralyzed in a millisecond, as though he was no more in control. HANG TEN! Was the signal the flashed in his brain, the only thing he could focus on the inside whilst observing the pool's water dripping down from his skin--?

Brawler's Stance!

His thought shifted momentarily, the number 5 engraved on the side of the goggles faded away as this happened. His fists clenched, as his body brought itself to an iconic fighting position, one that's familiar in a game remake. With feet firmly rooted to the ground, squats strongly standing apart and fists brought close to his chest.

SOMEBODY HELP ME! He thought loudly to himself, unable to open his mouth aside forming a huge cocky-like smile that was unlike him, eye brows furrowed oddly , if anyone took notice of him, he would look like a mix of an odd statue and a young man looking for a fight. Although...he didn't fit the part of a fighter just yet, needing an appropriate body to support the current position he is in--

SPLASH!

"NOT AGAIN!" He shouted. The Second tide came in, as a swimming gave a powerful dive from the diving board. Drowning Seran's clothes and his chest from the inside even further. A Drenched white T-shirt and brown khaki shorts, with plain looking sandals. This certainly did not match the goggles he is current matching, and that is about to change as the number 4 faded away next.

PUMP IT UP!

WHOA! He watched his body rise up even higher with a dose of electrolytes, goggles converting pool water to salt water as it gave a dose full of a lifetime's worth of minerals to the body. Aging several years as his height went up with it, with even longer legs and arms, a body that's as tall as any other typical sportsman that can be seen in sight.

Bathed in an appropriate amount of UV rays from the sun, his body crusted into a perfect moderate-brownish Hawaiian tan, like its a result of time and dedication. With his body being at a prime at his early twenties, yet feeling really uncomfortable underneath the clothes he's currently wearing, like it wasn't his style, like he deserved something better--

WOW! The next thought came up, as he watched as his clothes physically re-materialize by themselves right before the goggles covering his very eyes-- RUBBER! Starting with the feet, as the base of the sandals dyed themselves a strong orange, and black rubber soaked itself over the top.

Escalating hugely, they grew larger than the size of his foot as they reached a decent L-size. Bottom becoming rubber like the top, with the strap too becoming part of the design and turning orange as well. Five circles appeared where the toes should be and two black rolled loops appeared at his ankles, though the whole new wet-shoes get-up barely fit him.

The same treatment can be said about the rest of the attire as it went up, clothes now barely fitting and staying on him due to the L-size of the clothes, only thanks to the tight-fitting quality of wet-attire were why they were able to still stick onto his thin bod.

With Khaki shorts morphing themselves blue with waterproof threads as they wrap loosely around his waist, sky blue boarder shorts only on due to the current "stance" he's made into. A plain generic T-shirt gaining originality as they rediscovered cool typical sports patterns sufficing from his chest and trailing from on shoulder to another.

Those patterns turned a familiar pure orange as the rest of the shirt turned into a sporty black. Bringing out a cool and manly side out of the wearer. The sportier shirt hugged tightly to his skin as they turned into a waterproof-skin tight fabric, seemingly rubberized. A loop suffices around the top of his shirt, below his neck and similar to the ones of his wet-shoes.

With that being said, the last changes formed at his fists as the surfer influence touched his hands. Black covering his fists as they turned into orange at the top, with the same loop down at his wrists. Forming Brawler-like slash Surfer wet gloves for those who enjoy diving into the ocean from time to time, and with the current status of his body, it seemed as they just enjoyed anything water sports related, especially surfing--

SPLASH!!!!

"DUDE! THIS IS NOT COOL BRAH---?!" The man complained, vocabulary "Oh man! I haven't even bulked up yet---!" He realized that, with it being the next stage as the number 3 faded too.

IT'S WORKOUT TIME!

His brain thought, feeling his fists clenching even harder as veins bulge toughly from his arms. Watching them firm up as they do their years of training hard, growing to a sizable size as those knuckles nicely fit the gloves like a proud brawler.

The power and energy moved up to his shoulders, expanding them wide and steady as a result of surfing for over a decade, body posture and balance maintaining his strong figure. With a hefty lean-muscular chest supporting his front with tanned pecs and chiseled abs showing his status as a gym instructor, and a gym leader.

Legs tanking out, with calves steadying and fitting the boarder shorts like he liked it. Butt rounding and firming up, jutting out simultaneously with his feet as they filled in their entire wet-shoes. His attire completely suiting his powerful physique, like he deserved it.

"Man! This is great and all!" The soon to be hundred percent Surfer man spoke. "This like totally caused a storm of astonishment to my system! Oh man! But like..."

SPLASHHHH!

"HAHA! Wow! Again with the waves dude!" With water entering his system, cleansing his throat and tonsils, refilling the surfer lingo that he ever most desires with an attractive, chill and a totally radical voice that didn't cared much about intelligence." Gnarly Voice man...AWESOME!"

HANG TEN DUDE!

"Wicked!" An overwhelming surge of confidence and resolve shone in his face. Teeth as white and strong as a Sharpedo's, a smile evolved to a fearless confident grin. Angular Jaw being a sticker to the personality that crashes tides and oceans with his surfboard.

"I LOVE this dude! Can't get enough of it!" Hair spiking at the back, maintaining themselves like an in-bred style that suits him. Blasted away with Sky Blue like his boarder shorts, totally radical as they held spiked in place, bangs free. Facial features chilling with the breeze blowing against his forehead, ears wide open, nostrils filled with the scent of the sea, black sharp eyebrows boldly representing his self-assurance, his power, and his passion for what he does.

"And it just gets better and BETTER!"

"SPLASHHHHHHHHHH!"

"WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Fully lost in the Ocean, the new man awoke. With the number 5 completely fading away, he understood the hang ten quality within him and embraced the tide. With outstretched arms voluntarily breaking past any gnarly paralysis, and a body standing tall and firm as water poured down on him.

His goggles glowed and allowing the sun rays reflecting of the pool's surface to bask him with all the thoughts that he needed. Goggles taking on their true form as they tinted themselves as pure orange shades, with black sides supporting his coolness.

"Yo! Brawly! Sup!" Marlon raised his hand. HI-FIVE "Hey Man! Totally drenched me over here! Haha!" He laughed.

Lifting up the shades, revealing two piercing light blue eyes that shredded killer waves. He understood who he is, and how couldn't he? Being the Former Gym Leader of Dewford City's Gym, churned in the rough waves while pumping in the gym and toughening up in a pitch-black cave.

Now the Captain of The University's Water Sports Group, and yet another carefree Surfer Jock who loves nothing more than being in the water, Brawly takes his stance.

With his buddy Marlon by his side, being the fierce competitors and the greatest of friends back when they met in orientation. Rooming up like the bros they are, and having being given their own special goggles together by the higher-ups as a reward for being one of the best pairs in their category. The Ocean. Though his was definitely cooler since it could transform back and forth between his trusty shades and goggles with a button at the back. How awesome is that?

With their knowledge of the ocean, surfing as well as a healthy match of Pokemon battles and tons of working out. With Marlon and Brawly taking the lead in The school's Swimming/Water Polo and Dynamic Surfers Teams respectively, The Captains of the University's Water Sports Group were unstoppable together.

"Dude! Race you to the top of the diving board." Marlon swam. "Oh yeah? Well I'm gonna wipe you down man!" Brawly jumped in and swam right after him.

The two of them made their way to the diving board.

"Hey Man! Watch this--I'm gonna make--!"

"A Bigger Splash Than The Sea!"

SPLASH!

"Dude, that's nothing. Don't forget, I'm--!"

"A Big Wave In Fighting!"

SPLASH!

Chris

After transforming Chris, I was inspired. Never had I ever imagined changing someone else could feel so liberating, so addicting, so… powerful. Sure, I had played pranks on my siblings and altered my own appearance many times over the years, but that all felt so inferior after Chad’s transformation.

Chad was the first of many to experience shifts in their realities. Every one of my selections was picked carefully – some individuals were worthy of my gifts; others needed a lesson or two.

This is one of those worthy individuals.

After perfecting my “ideal” body type, I decided LA was the perfect place to settle down in: a solid gay scene, entertainment galore and good-looking men at nearly every corner. What else could I have asked for? I mean, LA did bring me Chad, so I know I made the right decision.

Even though I could have maintained my body in perfect shape without lifting a single pound, I had to keep my powers on the down low. So, I regularly frequented this gym about five minutes from my place. I also just enjoyed the feeling of the weights in my hands and seeing how well my muscles handled the exercise.

Throughout my time at my gym, I met this kid: Chris. 21, shy, scrawny, and kind of a nerd. He wore thick black frames on his face, a shaggy haircut, and workout clothes that always made his thin body look even slimmer. But he was a nice guy. Whenever I saw him, he’d always say hi and engage in small talk with me. After a couple months, we actually became friends. He would make movie recommendations to me; I’d give him a few music suggestions. I even took him out to celebrate his birthday at my favorite bar.

I liked Chris. Initially, I thought he was just trying to flirt with me. I mean, I couldn’t blame the man; I was a fit, dark and handsome. But, after a few conversations, I just realized he kind of admired me in a different way. He liked my muscles, sure, but he didn’t want them on him. He wanted to have them. He wanted to bulk up.

So I would help him out in the gym a bit; spot him whenever he wanted to. That of course garnered us a few looks from people probably wondering why I was hanging out with him. I guess it might have looked a little odd, but Chris was my friend; I couldn’t have cared any less.

“You don’t have to always work out with me, Raul,” Chris said. “Don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate it. Even though I haven’t made too much progress over the past few months, at least weight wise. I just don’t want you to lose your mass because you aren’t working out as hard as you could be.”

“Chris,” I said, with a smile. “Trust me, I won’t slim down or chunk up because I work out with you. I have a tight regimen that I stick to. I’ll keep my bod’, so don’t worry your little head too much.” I lightly punched his shoulder.

“You know what I mean,” Chris said, rolling his eyes. “You’re not gonna be much help to me if your muscles shrink and you’re a dweeb like me or if they all turn to fat and you’re a lard ass.”

“Wow, and to think that I thought you actually cared about my health,” I said. I placed my hand over my heart, feigning hurt.

We both laughed, walking over to our next station: the bench press.

“Besides, Chris, I actually enjoy working with you. We have good conversation.”

Chris and I picked up the plates from the racks and starting placing them on the bar in front of us. He really had been making progress. At the beginning, picking up a 25-lb plate was near impossible for him. Now, he only grunted occasionally; usually when we had a strenuous workout the day prior.

Once we had the weights in place, I laid down on the bench, adjusting myself in the proper position. Chris stood behind the bar, prepping to spot me. I reached for the bar and began my reps.

“Why doesn’t Chad ever come to the gym with you?”

“Uhm…” I said, lowering the bar down towards my chest. I had to think of a lie, quick. “Well, he’s always working. Plus, he mentioned to me once he doesn’t really like this gym, so he goes to one across town.” I continued my set.

“Oh, I see,” Chris said.

As I wrapped up my first set, a man walked towards us. John. I hated the guy. He tried to convey this macho, punker vibe, but, to me, he just came off as a try-hard douchebag. He always wore tank tops at least a size too small, with the deepest v-cuts I had ever seen. He was a total tool. I placed the bar back on the rack.

“Hey there, ladies,” John said, with a smirk. “Raul, how’s training the loser going today?”

“Get out of here, John,” I said, pulling my chest back as I sat back up on the edge of the bench.

“What?” John said. “Am I hurting your girlfriend’s feelings? It’s not my fault he’s been working out here for what? Four? Five months now? And he barely looks like he’s put on five pounds. He’s a joke. You should be working out with someone like me; at least I can give you a challenge. All this kid can give you is a sigh of relief that you don’t still look like a freshman in high school.”

“That’s enough, John,” I said, standing up, inches from his face. I scanned my eyes up and down his body until I landed at his face. Subtle freckles lined his medium-toned skin, highlighting his piercing green eyes that glared back at me. He was an attractive guy; too bad he was such a dick.

“If I were you, I’d walk away now,” I said, controlling every impulse I had to not draw my hand back and smash my fist into his nose.

“Whatever.” John said, with a scoff. He glanced at Chris, and smirked. “See you around.” He pushed his shoulder past Chris as he walked towards the bicep curls machine.

“I’m sorry, Chris,” I said, sighing. “I don’t get why John is always such an asshole.” I turned to my friend and noticed he was picking up his bag. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“I think I’m gonna call it a day,” Chris said, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “A light workout won’t hurt, especially after how hard you worked me last week.”

“Chris, no,” I said. “Don’t let John get to you; you’re doing a great job. Let’s finish.”

“It’s okay, Raul,” Chris said, beginning to walk away. “I’ll see you around.”

That’s when it hit me – I knew what I could do for Chris. The same thing I did for Chad, and for almost the same reason: I could make his dreams come true.

“Wait,” I said. I walked over to Chris, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Come back to my place. I think I know what’ll help with this.”

“What,” Chris said, laughing. “A bottle of vodka? Cause if so, yeah you’re probably right.”

“No,” I said, smiling. “Something better. Much better.”

–

Chris and I headed back to Chad’s and I’s apartment. We talked about some new anime Chris was watching on Netflix that I had never heard of. I was only half-listening because I was too preoccupied with my own thoughts. I was nervous for this transformation. But, my whole body felt like it was vibrating because of my simultaneous excitement.

When Chris and I walked through my front door, I made an excuse to run to the bathroom to wash my face. I stared at myself in the mirror, my tee still damp with the sweat from my workout.

“You can do this, Raul,” I said, trying to convince myself that making my friend happy was worth risking outing my abilities. “It’s for the better good, and you can trust him.” I splashed my face with water quickly and headed back to the living room.

“Okay, Raul,” Chris said as I entered the room. “What do you have that’s better than me getting plastered and finishing up a season of my anime?”

“Trust me, Chris,” I said, walking to the front of the room. “You’re going to love this so much more. Close your eyes.”

“What?” Chris said, furrowing his brows and sinking further into my couch.

“Trust me,” I repeated. “Just close your eyes.”

He looked at me confused for a few more moments before sighing and shutting his eyes.

I decided against repeating my mistakes with Chad and skipped the whole “I’m a wizard bit” and decided to cut right to the chase.

“What’s your dream body, Chris?” I asked.

“Raul, what are we doing,” Chris said, with a groan.

“Just answer, please,” I said. I held my hands out towards Chris, emitting a small wave towards him. I couldn’t leave room for Chris to stall or be sheepish, so I chose coax his mind into being fully truthful with me.

“I don’t know,” Chris said, sighing. “I guess your body is something I would love to have, but, you are kind of short. I’d like to be taller. I know I’m already 5 foot 10 inches, but I’d be nice to be like, 6 foot 5 or something. And I definitely want more muscles, even a bit more toned than yours. Arms are my favorite – I’d really want big biceps and tris. A strong core, and solid legs. My face is kind of on the softer side too. I’ve always dreamed of having a chiseled jawline.”

I smiled, watching my friend transform before my eyes. Hearing his desires out loud and allowing them to become a reality… I felt the same feeling I had with Chad.

“And I hate how shy I am.” Chris said, continuing. I guess that’s not really physical, but I just wish I was more confident. Kind of like John, just not like a douche. More ironic, in a way, but to the point that people actually found me charismatic and it’d make them want me. To be my friend, fuck me, date me - whatever applied to them.”

Chad’s body stretched, contorted, and grew into the perfect mold he had only imagined before. I watched my slender buddy turn into a hulking man that would tower over me if we stood side by side. No one would ever confuse Chris for a high school kid again; that was a fact. I tweaked his internal suggestions, boosting his confidence, and amping up his likability. And, for some final touches, adjusted his clothes to fit more comfortably.

Now, I was left with one more decision. I knew, deep down, I couldn’t allow Chris to know about my family and my abilities; at least not in the way I brought Chad into the mix. If I continued to increase the amount of people close to me know about my powers, I put myself at too much of a high risk with getting exposed. So, I knew I couldn’t let him remember his old life. With a flick of my wrist, it was done.

“I understand, Chris,” I said, lowering my hand. I walked over, bringing a hand mirror over and holding it in front of Chris’ face. “You can open now.”

“Shit!” Chris said, yelling and smacking the mirror out of my hands. “Did you really have to put that right in my front of me? I wasn’t prepared to look at my sweaty ass face!” He stood up, shaking his hand up and down playfully.

“I’m sorry,” I said, with a laugh. “I just know how easy you are to scare, and I never get tired of seeing a big, tough guy like you getting so jumpy.”

Then, I snapped my fingers, allowing Chris, just for a split second, to recognize everything that had just happened. His eyed widened as he noticed the extra inches of height he now had on me, and his breath hitched so slightly as he felt the dozens of pounds of muscle he had packed on in just minutes. At last, he achieved what he always wanted. And he smiled, and I knew he was thanking me.

“Ah,” Chris said, shaking his head as his reality shifted to fit his new life. “Sorry, uhm, what were we talking about, Little Dude?”

“You know how much I hate when you call me that, Chris,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“I know, I know,” Chris said, chuckling. “But you know I’m just kidding. It’s not your fault you’re so short. Plus, I would never want to piss you off, cause I know that you could still knock me square on my back.” He crossed his arms, smiling at me. “You’re like my, shorter but older brother, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess,” I said, laughing back. “But, to answer your question, you were just talking about how funny you thought that shirt you’re wearing is.”

“Oh yeah,” Chris said, with a smile. “It’s hella dumb, but I think my arms look really good in it. It felt nice to lift in today. Don’t you think I look good in it?” He posed for me, jokingly.

“Yes, Chris,” I said. “You look really great. And I’m sure Chad would agree too.” I smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hotel Korea: Chapter Four

--- Originally posted on 2019-12-27 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

The Degrading Investors

Lee Hae-jin slowed down to take a breath, hiking his leg up on the side of a modern statue. He quickly took a swig from his water bottle as he gathered himself, only slightly sweaty after running three kilometers. Usually long runs got him out of an angry mood, but the events of earlier that morning were still lingering about.

It had been a few weeks since the world-wide launch of KOREABOO, with the band becoming huge hit. There music was played almost everywhere, and with multiple Hotel Koreas in almost every country, the Korean population was steadily rising. Over half of Earth’s population was now identifying as Korean, with more converts coming in by the minute. Other races were slowly going extinct as the once dominating ethnicities became minorities. Although many people were coming under Lee’s control, the ones left were becoming annoying, especially two American investors: Theodore Charleston and Bradley Sullivan.

The two were famously known as the “Gateway to the North.” If they invested in you, North America would soon follow. Lee had already conquered the majority of Mexico (or Megsiko as the native Koreans renamed it), but he was struggling to get the United States and Canada to develop his properties. When he met with the power duo, they immediately turned him down with racist slurs. Lee kept in his bubbling anger, but was infuriated that they wouldn’t accept his incredible offer.

Regaining his stance, Lee began to figure out a revenge plan. Of course he had to make them join his side, but he didn’t know how. They wouldn’t listen to his music, and they’d never come near any of his hotels, so he had to find a way to get the Korean influence to them. As he ran back home, a flurry of ideas began to fill his head. Some dangerous, some extra safe. It took him a few minutes to find a plan that would really work, but he finally landed on something that no one would ever turn down.

— —

Theodore closed the door behind him as he walked into his penthouse. It was already late into the night, and he was ready to crash. A man in his late fifties, he was experienced to having absurd ideas proposed to him, but the young Korean lad from earlier that morning was still on his mind. It made no sense, just to open a hotel to spread Korean culture? It seemed to be spreading so fast in other parts of the world, so why would any American want it was his main point. Bradley had quickly agreed with him too, so it had only taken one loud shout of his deep, gruff voice to shut the kid up and kick him out.

Theodore slowly stripped himself of his business clothes, revealing his naked body before he trotted into the shower. His body had seen better days, when there wasn’t as much fat and gray hair and his head wasn’t bald. He silently took a steamy shower before wrapping a towel around his waist and finishing his nightly routine. He had a rough day ahead of him, so he had to get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow’s sake.

As he brought himself over to a large mirror, he noticed a small package lying on his counter. It was decorated in a small green bow, with the box itself being the size of a box of tissues. Theodore grabbed it and began to open the package, not thinking twice about it. It was probably dropped off by one of his maids during the day, as they usually brought his mail in. It was peculiar that it was in the bathroom, but he was too tired to care.

With a small rip, the cardboard finally opened up to show its contents. Inside hid a small tube of toothpaste, along with another container that looked like shaving cream. Theodore signed as soon as he saw the small, Hangul letters on the side, believing the gift was from the Korean earlier that day. He let out a minuscule smile, thanking no one in particular as he grabbed the suitcase. He had run out of toothpaste a while ago, and had forgotten to buy some at multiple opportunities. He wasn’t ecstatic about the gift, but he was slightly thankful. He grabbed an electric toothbrush and, after washing it thoroughly, put on some of the blue cream and began to scrub.

As soon as the toothpaste entered his mouth, his eyes went wide at the appalling flavor. Instead of the traditional mint, he was blasted with the taste of salt. Theodore wanted to spit it out, but he was so desperate for a good brush. He reminded himself to tell a maid to go shopping. He rationalized with himself that it was probably some sort of vegan toothpaste that would do wonders to his health. He hated the taste, but he told himself he could make it.

While Theodore brushed away, he decided to take a seat on his toilet. He grabbed his phone from nearby and began to mess around, not really paying attention to reality. He positioned himself comfortably, not noticing that his legs were slowly spreading farther apart. His lower limbs, which were hidden underneath the towel, slowly pulled in, bringing his height down 175 centimeters. Theodore didn’t realize that his heels no longer touched the floor, and he couldn’t see how his leg and thigh hair retracted to give way to a miniature black forest. His quads and calves exploded with meat, taking away the fat and replacing it with hard muscles. A yellow color swept across Theodore’s legs as they finished firming into limbs strong enough to run many kilometers.

Theodore switched from his main messages to his mailbox, becoming more comfortable with the salty taste in his mouth. As he checked his emails, he didn’t notice his naked arms slowly begin to inflate. Years of gym-time began to flood into his veins, with pounds of beef creating biceps and triceps. His faded arm hair was swept away, with the tiniest of black follicles growing in their place. The hands that held the toothbrush and phone also inflated, becoming golden paws and his arms took a lemony tone. Theodore was so involved in his phone that he didn’t register his bulky arms and hands.

The intensity of Theodore’s brushing began to diminish. The goal before was the get rid of the toothpaste as soon as possible, but now he was beginning to barely enjoy it. While the brushing became softer, so did his buttocks, which plumped into two small balls filled with flesh. It slowly pushed Theodore up, until he was so uncomfortable that he simply got off the seat. Instead of questioning why his butt felt bigger, he instead switched over into his news app. The amber tone swept upward onto his chest, imploding the massive gut and creating a six pack of abs as solid as concrete. Chest hair quickly fell away as Theodore’s man boobs hardened, becoming two pectorals that felt similar to rock. His nipples slightly grew while his collarbone pushed out, more body fat pushing away to reveal widened shoulders. His large armpit bushes shrunk a little, becoming a stark black and creating a more pungent odor. Theodore still hadn’t noticed anything, with all of his interest in his phone.

Deciding that he should do something else, Theodo put down his phone to set up his bedroom, not realizing he was still subconsciously brushing his teeth. As he set up the atmosphere for his sleeping routine, he couldn’t feel the toothpaste coating the inside of his throat. The salty flavor began to etch away at his deep and powerful voice, disintegrating his large Adam’s apple. Theodo sputtered a little as it slowly sank, his register slipping up to that of a lower tenor. The golden color quickly traveled up as the rest of Theodo’s vocal chords adapted, switching from creating English consonants to Korean syllables.

Theo continued to prep his room, turning on ambiance music as white noise. He always played the same instrumental track, but what came on instead was soft K-pop. To focused with finishing, he didn’t even recognize the different music, or the new chestnut bangs that laid side swept across his forehead. As he continued brushing with the mildly pleasing toothpaste, his face began to re-align. His ears became bigger as his jawline shifted upward, creating a more masculine square. His nose and lips shrunk, while his eyes became more horizontal as they took on a brown hue. All signs of facial hair disappeared as his teeth became pearly white. Any signs of age were washed over by the lemony tone, as Theo now looked more like a 20-something in his prime.

Te strolled out of his bedroom, finished with his pre-bedtime procedures. As he walked around the apartment, his large feet began to slowly change. Originally a much larger man, Te’s feet were Size 14 US to support his stature. With each step, his toes pulled in as the hair shed away. Although they shrunk in length, his feet stayed fairly meaty, retaining definition as they became calloused. Small, black hairs delicately decorated the top of his feet, as a smell almost as powerful as his armpits began to emit. The yellow color painted itself on to Te’s delectable 260 mm feet as he stopped in front of his old storage room.

Having a rather large penthouse granted Te-su with extra space. He hadn’t been to his storage room in a while, but he swore it looked different than it previously had. He remembered old filing cabinets, desks, and boxes of worn out books. Now, it seemed to be a home gym, with workout equipment scattered all across the room. Workout clothes were also strewn about, reeking excessively, but as Te-su brushed more, the room seemed more familiar to him. As he became increasingly accustomed to his changing environment, his average dick began to inflate. At 6.5 inches, it wasn’t the worst size, but it obviously had room for improvement. While Te-su drifted around the room. His hard dick began to slowly sink in on itself. The large, unkempt bush shaved away to reveal the stubs of raven black pubes. His balls also sucked themselves back up, becoming the size of grapes.

Images of men began to flash through Te-su’s head as he became increasingly aroused. He grabbed his dick through the towel in one hand, while still brushing with the other, the taste of the toothpaste becoming more recognizable with each scrub. As Te-su began to jack himself off, he noticed a mirror on the other side of the room. Walking towards it, he was momentarily shocked to see the young Korean stud looking back at him. Theodore regained consciousness for a moment as the amber shade quickly conquered the 7 centimeter cock. Before Theodore could react, he ejaculated to the mirror image of himself, erasing himself from reality permanently.

Tae-sung blinked a few times before regaining sight. He had beat off a lot, especially to himself, but that time was more powerful than usual. He kept brushing, the taste of soy sauce lingering in his mouth deliciously. He was glad that he had gotten it as a gift from the guy he met at the gym. What was his name… Lee? Tae-sung couldn’t remember, as he was fairly dull, riding off of his inheritance rather than intelligence. He didn’t care though, he’d probably find that guy at the gym again tomorrow. Maybe his best bro would know… he’d call him up afterwards. First, he had to finish his brushing.

— —

Bradley entered his suburban mansion lethargically, barely able to push open the heavy double doors. It had been an excessively long day at work, with that young Korean kid pushing him to his limits. About the same as his associate, he was also getting too old to deal with stunts like that. It was people like that who brought him to become overweight, making him age much faster than others. For example, he was the only person he knew who had white hair before sixty, and that was counting what was left. That was only the beginning.

Stumbling in the dark, it took Bradley to find his way to his bedroom. As soon as he got there, he changed as much clothes as he could before falling onto the bed. He was only able to change into an old pair of blue sweatpants, too tired to even put on a shirt . He silently hoped that the next day wouldn’t be as long as the previous.

Waking up the next morning, Bradley could barely even move. He’d gotten a good amount of sleep, but he was still lacking any energy to move. After flopping around a few times on the mattress, he finally pushed his heavy body up and over to the bathroom. After taking a steady piss, Bradley began the process of cleaning himself for the day. Right as he was about to wash his hands, he noticed a small box with a green bow lying on the counter next to him. He hadn’t had any of his maids come in overnight, or the day before, so he didn’t know how it had gotten there. He also hadn’t received any alarms from his security systems. Too groggy to think straight, Bradley decided to open it. After a little game of tug of war, the package opened up. Bradley was surprised to see a small tube of toothpaste, along with another container. Picking up the two objects, he recognized the Hangul writing and connected to the Korean lad from the day before. He put down the toothpaste and observed the bottle more. After looking at it closer, he discovered it was shaving cream. He opened the cap and took a sniff. He was greeted by a very nutty scent, one that he wasn’t at all expecting. Bradley looked in the mirror at his snow-colored stubble, deciding it was probably a good idea to shave.

Bradley grabbed a washcloth and turned on the shower head, just enough to drizzle. As soon as it was wet, he rubbed it on his face to make sure it was saturated. Next, he applied the shaving cream, watching the soapy bubbles create an even bigger white beard across his jawline. The nutty smell was becoming even more intense, making Bradley a little dizzy. He also noted a hint of muskiness, like something he’d smell in a locker room. He would have to check what scent this was afterwards, as he had no idea what he was supposed to be smelling.

As Bradley took the first stroke, the white hair bounced off his stomach and fell to the ground below him. He’d have to brush it up later with a broom, which didn’t really excite him. What he didn’t notice were how his legs were slowly bulking up inside of the sweatpants. Each breath Bradley took of the shaving cream added a little more muscle to his legs. His quads began to bloat, becoming massive with meat as they strained the sweatpants. His calves also expanded, becoming thick and firm for intense workouts. As the golden tan swept over his legs, Bradley lost all hair and some height, moving down to 170 centimeters.

Bradley scraped off the next stripe, with the hair falling down to the ground in small clumps. It passed the arms, which began to pump up with muscle slowly. Bradley didn’t recognize this however, as he was to busy shaving. His yellowing arms quickly created gigantic biceps and triceps, blowing up his arms to epic proportions. Thick veins appeared across his forearms as his arm hair disappeared, only to be replaced with tiny, stark follicles of black hair. His palms grew, becoming meaty.

The third stripe of hair came off, with more white falling to the floor. The soap didn’t stick to the razor, but instead to the clump, creating a bubbly mess at Bradley’s feet. The intense nutty smell ingrained itself into his face, familiarizing itself. While Bradley continued to shave, his massive gut began to suck in. The fat disappeared in a few moments, with the facial hair now falling straight to the ground. After the creation of an eight-pack of solid abs, his shoulders widened out and his collar bone popped out. As the amber tone washed over his entire torso, Bradley’s nipples grew to match his growing pectorals, both become hard and large. Finally, his armpit hair retracted all the way, only leaving a small black stubble that would never grow. Although the patches were small, the rancid scent that began to emit from them was very noticeable, yet Bradley was still concentrating on shaving.

With a little more than half of his face shaved, Brady deducted it would be a good time to wash some of the soap off his face. He had actually begun to enjoy the smell of the shaving cream. He’d also have to clean up the mess on the floor pretty soon, as it now looked like he was wearing a pair of bubbly hair slippers. As he grabbed for the washcloth, the lemony wave swept across his neck, pushing in his larynx barely. His passive bass tone lightened to a baritone. His vocal box also rearranged, no longer needed for a Romance language.

Grabbing the washcloth, Brad realized that it had gone dry. He grabbed the knob to turn on the shower head again, but accidentally turned it to hard. Before Brad could correct his mistake, a spurt of cold water poured over his head. He yelped as he was momentarily soaked. It felt like his entire head was a clump of messy, wet white hair. He slowly stood up, immediately noticing that he had sprayed water all over the mirror too. At least he hadn’t gotten his thick, dark brown bangs drenched. As he wiped off the leftover soap bubbles from the first half of his face, his jaw keenly realigned itself. Square points began to just out as his eyes became brown and narrow. His nose shrunk barely as his lips jutted out just barely. Any signs of age disappeared as Brad now looked no older than 25. To top everything off, his whole head was covered in a golden color.

Removing the last bits of facial hair from his face, Ba began to wash away the mess from his feet. As he pushed the mess of hair and bubbles away, which was magically disappearing with each swipe, his feet dwindled in size. Originally at a Size 12 US, it didn’t take much to make them shrink down. As they became more compact, small veins appeared to amplify the increasing muscularity. His toes became small stubs as a foul funk sourly filled the room. As Ba removed the last of the bubbles, he revealed a beautiful pair of 245 mm lemony feet.

As Bo stood back up, he suddenly felt his cock becoming extremely aroused, the smell of the shaving cream driving him wild. The monster quickly inflated to 9 inches, a rough gem hidden by a previously hideous body. As the amber tone began to spread to his cock, it began to slowly descend inwards, opposite to his expanding butt cheeks. The previous flat back began to push out, creating two meaty, massive globes that were both tanned perfectly, filling out the back end of the sweatpants expertly.

While the buttocks finished pushing out, Bo felt another wave of euphoria cascade over him. He quickly grabbed his cock, taking long strokes to truly work himself up. As time past, he fondling became faster. It wasn’t because he was becoming more elated, but instead because his dick was shrinking. The massive sausage was settling into much, much smaller. His bush and balls did the same, and they decreased to just a quarter of their previous sizes and they turned black and yellow respectively. Bo looked in the mirror as flashes of sucking and receiving cock flashed through his head, with Bradley returning for a just a moment to see his life disappear. He was about to gasp, about to stop the process, but his lemony 5 centimeter cock thought otherwise, for it was so sensitive that it burst immediately, blowing all of Bradley out with it.

Bo-gum’s eyes refocused to the mirror in front of him, the load of sperm beginning to dry in his underwear and pants. Immediately, the smell of his sesame oil shaving cream hit him full on, the smell reminding him of Korea. That guy from the gym really knew what to get him, yet Bo-gum couldn’t remember his name. He knew his first name was Hae-jin, but what was his surname? Sometimes Bo-gum was so dumb, he was such a meathead. The only reason he was rich was because of his inheritance not at all due to his smarts, or lack thereof. Maybe his best bro would know, he’d have to text him.

Looking back in the mirror, Bo-gum noticed a small patch of black facial hair that he had missed. He quickly shaved the spot and put the razor, not to be touched again until his next semi-annual shave.

— —

From his office, Lee Hae-jin smiled with pride at the success of his revenge. By simply mixing simple ointments with his own semun, he was able to create two Korean studs out of the rude Americans. It was also smart of him to mask the scent by mixing in soy sauce and sesame oil, two traditional Korean spices.

By eliminating the “Gateway to the North,” Lee now had free reign over the entire Earth. At the gym later that day, he could easily convince the now dimwitted Cho Tae-sung and Seong Bo-gum to become his main investing partners. With over half of the world conquered, it was only so long before everyone would encounter “A Seoul-changing Experience.” Everyone would be Korean, and more importantly, under Lee Hae-jin’s control.

Protocol 69

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Originally posted on 2023-06-24 by dumb-and-jocked. (Thanks again for dumb-and-jocked for all your stories!)

This story was nuked quite quickly last time, I recall. So, please reblog in effort to keep multiple copies alive.

Last thing: I am sorry this post does not have any italics/bold! I had some issues properly saving it back then. If anyone cares I'll try recover the formatting.

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“I’m sorry Officer, but did I do something wrong?”

After a 10 hour drive with tumultuous traffic, I’d expected to get some rest in the hotel room my company had paid for when they’d sent me to Texas for a business conference. I wasn’t too far out of the Dallas-Fort Worth area, but apparently far enough for some forms of homophobia to proudly exist. When I had pulled in, I immediately noticed the front desk glare at the pride sticker on my back window. When they’d picked up the phone right after, I’d assumed the two events were unrelated. But the cop standing calmly in front of his vehicle parked beside mine told me differently.

“Nothin’ we can’t fix,” the officer replied ominously in that classic drawl.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” I started politely. “But I’m very exhausted, and I’ve got some important meetings to attend first thing tomorrow. If you don’t have anything to arrest me for, then I’m going to respectfully leave.”

“Yer kind ain’t welcome in these parts.” The officer’s response was calculated. “Just cause I can’t arrest ya doesn’t mean I can’t still bring ya in.”

“Is that so?” I questioned, becoming a little agitated.

“They’re called ‘correctional facilities’ for a reason,” he added.

“So you’re gonna jail me for being gay?”

“For threatening this town’s good traditional values and lifestyle?” the officer manipulated. “Then yes, yes I sure will.”

The officer then approached me with a pair of handcuffs. I wanted to fight back, and it took everything in me not too, but I was familiar with how these things could go down. He stood fairly tall and was well-built; a classic All-American family man. I was a college runner who clocked in a few inches under 6 feet, so running could have been an option if I wanted to engage. But I’d wait it out, play the little game until my future lawsuit kicked this homophobe and his whole department to hell.

But something in the back of my mind was still flicking the panic button. All of this seemed too easy for the officer, too habitual. As if he knew exactly what he was doing. As if he’d done this many times before. As if this wasn’t the first time this had happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

— —

The last thing I could remember was sitting down in the back of that officer’s vehicle with my hands behind my back. He opened the door for me and I followed instructions, but I couldn’t place what happened after he’d started the car. In fact, I had no idea of how I had gotten into my current situation. The old interrogation room was empty, besides the entire back wall that was lit by a projector. My clothes were gone, leaving me completely naked. And my penis was placed in some kind of tube. I tried to yank it out, but the device was not going to give it up.

“Hello!” I shouted angrily. “You can’t do this!”

There was no reply, but the projector screen did light up. Letters began to appear along the bricks, spelling out what I prayed to anyone above was not actually possible: “Protocol 69: Conversion Operationalization Activated.”

“Hey!” Desperation was beginning to show in my voice. “No, please don’t! I don’t know what is happening but don’t do this! I’ll do whatever it is you want, please!”

My cries for help were meaningless however. No one appeared to hear me or respond. Instead, the words flashed before disappearing. Something new began to boot up on the screen, an introduction video of sorts.

“Welcome to Benbrook,” a cheery male voice began as an old cartoon began to play. It looked like some educational video from the Reagan Era. “This growing Texan city welcomes you to all the finer things in the American life.”

Suddenly, the tube my dick was currently stuck in began to move. As if awakening from a great slumber, a portion of the device groggily creaked before swiveling itself around my cock. All 5 inches were rapidly on display as the tube proceeded to jack me off, twisting and pulling and turning and releasing as it gave me the most sensual action of my life. I was no virgin, but I had never felt anything like this before.

“However, if you are currently watching this video, that means you’ve come to tarnish and harm the great opportunities Benbrook can provide you with.” The cartoon placed a word across the screen that flashed as if it was a warning alarm. The “H” in “Homosexual” appeared particularly loud. “We hope you understand that the upcoming process you’re about to undergo is meant to not only protect our safety and way of life, but to enhance your own as well.”

I was trying so hard to find a way to escape, but the dazzling colors of the projector and the edging experience down below were hindering my focus. Instead of fighting back, I simply moaned as my dick underwent its electronically-sensual torture and watched as a dingy spiral came into view. My eyes centered in on the old-timey display that swirled around in circles. I couldn’t tell if the fluttering of my eyelids were due to the sexual action below or what my eyes were now hypnotized by above.

While the spiral and the tube instrument performed their jobs, I began to feel something squirting out of my cock. It wasn’t semen, precum, or even piss for that matter. Although I wasn’t able to completely look down, I could see a glittery, luminescent stream now flowing through the tube. Something was being drained out of me, but I was too distracted by the spiral and too turned on by the mechanical sucking to care. It just felt so good to give in to the spiral and not worry about anything else but being pleased. The machines were doing me a favor really. I didn’t have to think; all I had to do was watch while I was given pleasure.

The glittery flow continued out of my body, causing my breathing to hurry a bit as the progression towards ecstasy continued. Grabbing the tube to steady myself, I didn’t notice my grip expand and solidify harder across the machine. My digits expanded, my feet following suit as they too bloated across the cold metal floor. After a while, my meaty fingers were able to surround the entirety of the tube. My feet–although I didn’t bother looking at them–were now able to grasp me firmly to the ground; their Size 14 nature containing the strength meant to hold the weight of a real man.

With the spiral and pump still working their magic, I couldn’t be bothered with watching how my legs and arms were changed next. As the homosexual energy was removed from my body, my ligaments were allowed to expand. Biceps and triceps that had never existed before blew up like balloons. Calves inflated in certain areas while shrinking in others, creating legs meant less for long distance running and more for shorter sprints. The quads swelled too, now able to do so being that they were no longer needed for any track. They were now created for sports played by alphas: football, basketball, and baseball. None of that cross country or tennis pansy crap.

After the shoulders had finished broadening with an incredible lengthening to my deltoids, the glitter was able to leave my torso next. My pits filled in with curly bushes of tangled hair, matted with sweat and stinking to the high Heaven. And even with the plump pecs and removal of body fat that was happening to my expanding frame, the forests would never be able to be completely hidden. By suctioning out the energy, my abs were showcased in a more elite form. Each abdominal was now hard across my stomach, all eight leading down to a perfect treasure trail that had never been able to grow before now. My height had been extended too, now putting me well over the 6 feet I’d never reached before.

The stream was flowing steadily now, extracting my homosexuality from what I assumed had to be the most concentrated areas: my head and my cock. Being that they were the only two parts of my real self left unscathed, this next part of the process would probably be gruesome. My buttocks were first to change, clenching hard as their luxurious fat was eliminated to create muscled pillows similar to my pecs. My hole closed in on itself almost immediately after, its purpose now reduced to duties only regarding objects exiting the body. My balls ripened and plumped into a generous sack, and my hard dick sputtered an extra few inches forward. The tube was still able to manage the added girth however, all 8 inches fitting into an even tighter squeeze than before.

With a grunt and dazed gaze at the projector screen, I watched lazily as words began to flutter across the screen. Although I was in no state of mind to focus–and I certainly should have been doing it towards literally anything else–I used all of my remaining willpower to try and decipher the letters that flashed upon the screen. While doing so, the tube continued to suck out the remaining substance of my homosexuality. My chin widened into a shape so square and masculine it was almost comical. My brow popped out to create a more Neanderthal-look, pursing my eyebrows and lips basically permanently. My hair was shaped into something more typical and douche-like. I couldn’t see it, but I knew I had been created into a breeding machine.

“Boobs” was the first word I was able to decipher from the projector. I grunted and began feeding my monster cock to the tube as if I was in charge. “Pussy” came next, followed by “Clit” and “Cunt”. The tube began to let up around my dick, but I didn’t care anymore. I was so hard, so horny, and for some reason it was for the words that flashed across the brick wall. With the help of “Vagina” and the simple “Woman”, I asserted my dominance and proceeded to thrust into the machine myself, my throbbing penis shooting in and out.

The tube had stopped moving, but it didn’t matter to me anymore. I had only one thing on my mind. “Impregnate” the screen suddenly read, adding to the list of words already revolving around the screen. “Propagate” wasn’t too far behind, and neither was “Seed.” Suddenly, my horny fantasies didn’t just revolve around women. I realized I wanted to fill them, get my babies to coat their entire inner bodies. I wanted to…I wanted to… “Breed.” Yes, I wanted to breed. I wanted to multiply, make an entire generation of me. Identical to me. Same looks, same goals, same ideologies.

And before I knew it, even more words had been tossed into the mix. “Homophobia” arrived with a sting, a certain loathsome tingle erupting out around my body. “Alpha” was preceded by “Dominant,” and “Superior” was proceeded by “Traditionality.” All of these words sunk into my brain, accepting the new mindset as my ideals connected with my sexuality.

The programming gradually flickered faster, each new pulse sending a tiny bit more pressure to my dick. My thrusting grew more aggressive in response. I grabbed onto the tube with a renewed sense of strength and felt my gaze leave the projector’s trance for the first time. Allowing my eyes to roll back into my head, I released a dumb groan as the glittery stream dried up.

With one final thrust, a massive shot of my own cum was sent down the tube. The projector had finally stopped, displaying only “Thanks for watching!” in cutesy, bouncing letters before shutting off. The room went dark after that, but I blacked out before I even realized it.

— —

“Oh yeah,” I groaned as she sat on my lap, my massive schlong shoved up her tight pussy. “Ain’t that just right.”

Without saying a word, I got to work and felt my cock immediately getting ready to fire. When it came down to business, I could get my babymaker spewing fast. And being that I still had at least two other girls in town that needed to get rid of their flat stomachs before I went to work in an hour, I had to fertilize these chicks FAST!

“That’s right babygirl,” I was able to say between grunts. However, my cock immediately deflated when I noticed a sedan pull up across the street. The sedan itself was a crime–only trucks should be driven in Texas after all–but the “LGBTQIA+” sticker on the back nauseated me beyond belief. Visible disgust came over my face quickly, causing as my current conquest to ask me what was wrong. I grabbed my phone and explained I had to make a quick call to her dad. It wouldn’t take more than a minute I promised.

“Benbrook Police Department,” a sturdy, masculine voice answered.

“Yo brochacho, I’d like to report in a Protocol 69.”

“Hmm,” the other side mumbled disapprovingly. “Location of the illegitimate?”

“’The Real Man’s Tools’.” I followed my answer with a dumb chuckle. I always forgot how clever the hardware store’s motto was: “…besides a woman that is!”

“Car make and model?”

“You’ll know it, bro.”

“Not American-made?”

The babe still riding my cock shoved a finger in my mouth, signaling she wanted to continue.

“Are they…evuh?” The words were barely able to escape my mouth. The officer laughed in response on the other end as she began sliding up and down my dick slowly, getting us back to where we had left off.

“Thanks for the report,” the officer replied. “Please continue yer civil duties.”

“Will do, dude.”

The line hung up on itself, which was probably for the best with my hands already being wrapped back around my current score. I felt my load tense up as it began to prepare itself for semination. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see an officer’s cruiser pull up alongside the homo’s vehicle. Looks like we were both about to bring a straight, Texan, alpha male into the world.

One of my all-time favorites!

Career Day

“Hey bro, do you think you have what it takes to be a firefighter?”

You stop dead in your tracks. Next to the rows and rows of folding tables set up for career day is a big red fire truck. But instead of free pens and buttons to entice you in, three half-naked firefighters stand laughing, rubbing their thick muscles through their loose handing fireproof jackets.

This has to be some sort of joke, you think to yourself with a scoff. One of the meat heads approaches you with a hunky swagger. “So,” he asks again, “you think you have what it takes?”

It’s been a pretty boring day overall, so you decide to have some fun. “Alright,” you say with a sarcastic smile, “tell me: what does it ‘take’ to be a firefighter?”

“Well,” the guy says, “first, you’ve got to be jacked. Like… really jacked.” As he says this, you begin to feel your clothes grow itchy, like they don’t seem to fit quite right.

“Yeah,” you say trying to keep an air of confidence, “and what else?”

“Well,” he continues, “you’ve gotta have tough skin. Tough enough to withstand serious heat.” The itching is insatiable now, and you look down to see a rough callous develop over your hands, which are now bulging with muscle. You frantically look around the room, but no one else seems to be noticing the muscles now begging to escape from your tight clothes.

“You’ve got to have a lot of upper body strength,” he says before you can stop him, and suddenly your arms grow sore, biceps the size of baby heads bursting at the seams of your shirt. “And good legs…” he says, sending your thighs tearing through your jeans. “Not to mention a good core.” And with that, your chest expands into two square pecs and a rack of abs directly below.

“Is that it??” you plead with him, struggling to contain your new body as it continues to grow per his suggestions.

“Not yet,” the guy continues, “you’ve also got to know a thing or two about firefighting. Not much else though, you don’t want your brain getting too crammed if you know what I mean.” You try and resist the overwhelming feeling of numbness that envelops your mind. You feel memories of training and lifting with your fighter fighter bros begin to replace those of your friends, family, and education.

You, moan, trying to resist as a new feeling overtakes your body. “No… please…”

“Oh yeah! And one last thing. You’ve gotta be pretty hung. It can get pretty boring at the station with nothing to do. Some of us like to fool around a little bit. Wouldn’t hurt to have a 9 inch dick.”

You know it’s coming this time. The testosterone, the heat flooding your pelvic region. You look down just in time to see a full, 9 inch penis burst forth from your briefs and unleash a wave of cum all over the floor. With it escapes all your knowledge of your past life; you’re nothing more than one of those meathead firefighters now, nothing else on your mind by saving lives and sucking dick.

“Here,” says the guy as he leads you over back to the truck and away from the crowds, “lets get you into something more comfortable shall we?”

You nod stupidly, eagerly awaiting the minute you can get him into bed with your thick new cock, both your muscle bodies rubbing sweaty together for hours. As he slips you into your firefighter’s coat, you know you’ve chosen the right career. Even if it wasn’t exactly your choice…