The New Frat: Part 2

Product Placement: Wet Dreams

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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.

Product Placement: Free Exercise Healthcare Offer

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The girls in the locker room snickered behind her back as Janet pulled off her gym shirt. They didn't have to shower before class (thank God!) but everyone needed to change out of their sweaty gym clothes. Janet always felt like an outsider and didn't have many friends in her class. It was partially to do with her tomboyish features: tall, lanky, flat-chested, a little bit muscular; but also because she preferred "guy" things to "girl" things. She was the youngest in her family and her twin older brothers let her tag along with their friends growing up. They were always skateboarding, riding dirt bikes, wrestling, or getting into trouble. It was a great childhood, but that all changed in late middle school. Her brothers where in high school now and their friends thought it was weird to hang out with a middle-school girl. And so she was left on her own. Now a junior in high school, Janet was isolated and lonely. She heard someone laughing nearby and tried not to look up. They were around the corner of a row of lockers, but she overheard anyway (that was probably the point anyway...)

"...such a freak. I mean, did you see her in the weight room..." "...what girl bench presses that much..." "...a girl with a dick, that's who!"

Janet tried to fight back tears as the laughter continued. She didn't have a dick, of course. She was a woman, but sometimes wondered if maybe she was transgender. She liked guys, not only because she could relate to them better, but because she was attracted to their bodies. Was that why she liked lifting? Was it because she wanted to be a man?

The laughing continued.

"Bitches..." Janet whispered under her breath. That was a mistake, because the laughter stopped. She would pay for that later, she was sure of it. These girls were your typical high school "mean girls" and she was an easy target for them.

"Hey Janet," one them called out. "The boy's locker room is on the other side!"

"Yeah, you must have wandered in here by mistake," said another girl.

They walked formed a circle around her and laughed. Janet grabbed her gym bag and ran out of the locker room before they saw her crying. She was so worried they were following her, that she sped up. As she turned the corner, she ran headfirst into a group of guys coming in from the gym and tripped. One of the guys caught her as she fell. His name was Cody, the captain of the basketball team and one of the tallest, fittest, guys at her high school.

"Sorry..." Janet mumbled.

"Dude, it's fine," Cody answered.

His basketball jersey was damp with sweat and the smell of his body odor mixed with deodorant and body spray was musty and raw.

"Hey, I know you," he added. "You're Davey's little sis, right?"

Her older brother David had played basketball, so they probably were on the same team at some point in high school.

"Yeah, that's me" she added as she grabbed her bag and tried to leave the conversation.

"Woah, dude, why don't you play. You'd be great," he said. His kindness made his face look even more attractive. But Janet saw that the girls were leaving the locker room, so she didn't answer and snuck out of the gym to the parking lot.

At home, she kept thinking about what she had overheard that day. It left her feeling empty and confused. Her parent's were gone that night, so she spent the night playing video games online. She was a big fan of games that were by no means "girly." It started with games like "Halo," "Borderlands" "Call of Duty", but she was a huge fan of "Gears of War." She always seemed to identity with the hyper-masculine heroes of the games, with their strong muscles, heavy guns, and no bullshit attitudes. Even when there was an option to build a female character in a video game, she almost always made herself the biggest, tankiest, brute, and played melee style.

That night, she was playing with random guys all over the world. It was commonplace for them to either not care about her gender, or just assume she was a guy. Though some might say that was sexist, she didn't care. She just wanted to be one of the guys anyway.

That night, she had a strange dream. It started as a scene from the video game earlier that day. Her squad was clearing out a bunker, but it transformed into her high school locker room. There she was, standing in the middle of the guys locker room. She saw a group of guys showering, there wet asses covered in soap and their hair matted down on their faces. She saw Cody, his calves round, his thighs thick, and his muscled bubble butt. She felt uncomfortable, but no one seemed to notice her. She started to back away when she heard someone shout out, "Look guys, Janet's got a cock!"

She stared down at her crotch and saw that she had a massive boner sticking out from her naked body. She heard echoes of laughter from all sides, but couldn't escape the dream. All around her were shadowy figures taunting her.

"Be strong. Be yourself. Fight. You have to fight. You have the strength. Fight through. Be strong."

Her hands curled into fists and she felt a primal, almost orgasmic rage, rise within her. When she lifted up her arms, she saw that they were ripped with muscle and covered in tattoos. Her chest and abs were chiseled and she felt taller. She took the stance of a fighter and landed a punch on one of the shadowy beings. She let out a grunt of satisfaction and turned to swing her hand across the jaw of another shadow.

"Good. You are a fighter. You are stronger than them. You must fight."

The fighting continued until all the shadows were gone. She let out a shout and pumped her fists together. Suddenly, the dream ended and she jumped up in her bed.

She turned on the lamp next to her bed and saw that she was back in her normal body. Her heartbeat was racing, but she knew it was just a dream. Probably caused by playing video games too late at night. She turned the light off and tried to go back to bed.

The next day at school, Janet figured there would be bullying. But she wasn't prepared for what she found on her locker. Someone had cut out a picture of her head and taped it onto a bodybuilder. Written across the top was "Roid Janet" and "Tranny Janny" (both new ones to her). She tore down the picture and walked away from her locker. She knew everyone was watching her, so instead of just hiding in the bathroom, she actually went and sat in her car. She pounded her fists on the steering wheel and thought to herself, "Why do I have to be a girl..."

Just then, she heard a voice in her head start to talk. "You are not a girl. You are a man. You are a fighter. You can become what you want. You choose to become strong. You choose to become a man. You choose to stop being Janet. When you become a man, Janet no longer exists. No one will know who Janet is. You will become a new person. A new man."

The voice grew louder in her head and she just laid back in her seat and let the voice put her into a deep trance. In this trance she felt strong, she felt powerful. At one point, it felt like she was having an orgasm, but it was different than anything she had felt before. But before she climaxed, it went away and the trance faded. She didn't want the teachers looking for her, so she back inside. But everyone was shuffling the halls as usual. What was strange was that no one made eye contact with her. This wasn't completely out of place, but it felt different somehow. She went back to her locker, but the combination she tried didn't open.

She banged her hand on the door, but no one stopped and looked. She stood in the middle of the hall and felt invisible. A nerdy kid that she had never seen before walked over to "her" locker and opened it. He took off his hoodie and hung it up on one of the hooks. It looked like all of her books and pictures were gone. On the intercom, she heard an announcement:

"A reminder to all students that the assembly with celebrity fighter and trainer Andy Hunt will start in the gym at 9:00 AM." She walked down the hall and passed the group of girls that bullied her staring at a poster. They were giggling about a shirtless man that was flexing. It was a poster for the special assembly. "OMG, he is SO sexy," they said casually. These girls paid no attention to Janet, even she was standing right next to him. Something about this man's body seemed familiar, like something she had seen in a dream.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated. She pulled it out of her pocket and answered.

"Who is this?" said the voice on the other side.

"Janet, who are you?"

"Don't worry Janet. You are going to be fine. Just listen carefully."

"What! Who is this?"

"That doesn't matter. All that matters is who you are. Who you are becoming. Go to the locker room by 9:00. Andy needs his phone."

"Andy? Who is Andy? What's going on."

The caller hung up and she saw that the screen of her phone looked different. The time was 8:55. She had no idea what was happening, but saw that the halls were emptying out as everyone gathered in the gym.

She followed carefully, but the phone in her hand kept pinging with messages and text.

"Where r u, Andy?"

"Andy, you have less than 5"

When she entered the room, she saw a crew of cameramen and people waiting for the assembly to start.

"Andy, thank God you're here!" said a short thin man with a bald spot.

"I'm not Andy," Janet wanted to say, but the man was dragging her by the wrist.

"Just wait in the locker room until your cue, alright!"

As Janet walked down the hallway, she started to feel dizzy. She turned right, but the man laughed.

"Wrong way, Andy -- the men's room is that way" he said, pointing down the hallway on the left.

"Men's room, but, I ... uh ... what is going ..."

Janet turned down the hallway and walked through the door into the boy's locker room. It felt like dream. The room seemed steamy and Janet started taking off her clothes. As she stripped, she heard the voice again.

"Andy, you are so close. You are ready. Look at yourself Andy. You are strong. You are popular. You are an inspiration. You can be the man you want. You can inspire others to greatness. Look at yourself Andy."

Janet turned toward a mirror and saw the face of Andy Hunt staring back. This was the face of the man she always dreamed of being. His eyes were dark. He had a beard and styled hair. His bulging arms were tattooed. His chest strong, with only a little hair between his pecs. His abs were perfect and below was a forest of dark hair and a massive towering cock.

"Let go Andy. Allow yourself to let go."

Janet took the massive cock and stroked it back and forth. With every invigorating stroke, her mind emptied and she allowed herself to drift away. The sensation of being this man in the mirror took control. Andy wanted this, so Andy kept going. With a few thrust, Andy sprayed come into the sink and felt a wave of relaxation wash over him. Usually, he wouldn't do this before a show, but today felt different. He cleared his throat and spat into the sink. Outside, he heard people chanting his name.

Andy walked over to a bench and pulled out his underwear and the track suit and fitness wear with the words "Andy Hunt: Trainer" printed on them. He saw his luggage for the rest of the tour.

As the crowd chanted his name, Andy took the stage as high energy music played. He dropped down and did twenty push ups in rhythm as they cheered. He walked over to the microphone and greeted the group.

"Hello! Hello!"

Over the course of his show, he encouraged everyone in the room to commit to being themselves, to become strong, to stand up for what they believed, to transform their lives. Afterward, he took selfies with adoring fans, gave them advice, and signed their notebooks. He posted some of the pictures on his massively popular Instagram and Twitter pages. Tomorrow, he would train a local gym to stay fit, but then continue the tour. His message was empowering and he wanted everyone to feel like they had the power to make their dreams a reality.

Heyy, i have a resquest, hope you like it:

What if a very bad, punk guy from an average college has a really Bad demeanor and is always causing trouble, so he gets transferred to a re-education that supposedly turns you into the perfect preppy boy, where forced by his preppy colleagues he gets his attitude adjusted?

It was Lucas's first time on the Davidson College campus and his first night of an after-hours "attitude adjustment" class. His ratty backpack bounced on his lithe shoulders as he approached the classroom while the other students sneered under their breaths, all heading to their dorms and homes for the evening. Lucas's ratty leather jacket, jeans, and weathered boots couldn't have stood out more harshly against the sea of button-down shirts, sweaters, shorts, chinos, and boat shoes.

Liberal arts was his major, and he was good at it - well, he would have been if he'd put in any academic effort. But to Lucas, papers, essays, and exams were all a power structure to rally against. Four years into a three-year degree, and sick of the disobedience and attitude, his college gave him an ultimatum: leave for good, or take the adjustment course at Davidson, which was a college known in academic circles for its snobby preppiness, but also its eerily successful adjustment program.

Lucas's parents certainly didn't want an unemployed, moody twenty-three-year-old back in their house, and the college was all he had. So the choice was all but made for him. He was to take the class at Davidson and lose the attitude.

Eyes toward his feet, Lucas slinked into the classroom only to run head-first into a cashmere sweater. Lucas looked up at the man who stood a head taller than him and found himself flanked by two other similar-looking students. All three men stood two to three inches taller than the five-ten Lucas, all wore their hair in similar parts, and all wore typical, semi-formal prep clothing. Another three cogs in the machine at the Davidson, Lucas thought to himself.

"You know, I don't exactly want to be here. Get outta my way and the quicker I get out off your snotty campus," Lucas stated plainly.

"Oh we know, Lucas," the middle frat boy snickered.

Lucas raised an eyebrow, how did these nimrods know his name? He also knew that despite his disregard for these types of preppy bros that he wouldn't stand a chance against one of them in a fight, let alone three. "Look, guys, I just gotta do this course, then I'm gone."

"And why do you think we're here?" said the man to Lucas's left.

"We're your instructors," chimed the third of the trio.

"Let's get started," the leader said, grabbing Lucas by the collar and pushing him to the wall. "Alright boys, you know what to do."

Lucas struggled against the large hands pinning him down while one of the others held a clear bottle in front of his face and sprayed it three times.

"Get the fuck off me, asshole!" he screamed, attempting and failing to land a lunch as the preppy jock loosened his grip.

"Not so fucking smart now are you?" the preppy student sneered at the defenseless punk who was coughing from inhaling whatever it was the group had sprayed in his face. Not only did the admittedly pleasant scent hang around in his nose, but it was like it permeated him as a whole.

Lucas fell to his knees, his head spinning. The smell in the air was so... masculine, enough to turn on even the straightest man or puritan prude.

"Smells good, doesn't it?" the main jock chuckled.

"Ah... ach... what did you do to me?" Lucas spluttered, rolling his neck.

The trio of preppy frat boys wasted no time hoisting the incapacitated Lucas into a chair, tying his limp hands at the back and switching on the projector screen at the front of the room.

Lucas coughed, unable to get the scent out of his airway. He struggled against the rope holding him to the chair, watching helplessly as the image of a black and white spiral flashed onto the backdrop ahead.

"You assholes just wait, when I get out of here I'm... gonna... gonna... I..."

All it took was a glimpse for Lucas to become slackjawed and glued to the screen, unable to continue with his useless verbal threat. The preppy men began to take turns making hypnotic commands.

"You want to be a preppy college stud."

"No, please... I don't want to be..." Lucas mumbled, almost drooling as he gazed at the spiral, feeling the mixture of the jocks' words and the substance they'd sprayed him with mingling in his head.

"You want to be like us. You don't wanna do any of that useless liberal arts shit anymore. Finance, law, engineering... real work, take your pick, that's what you wanna do."

"Finance... yeah... just like dad..." Lucas could feel his philosophical smarts draining away, replaced with business savvy and a desire to impress.

"A real prep has to know how to have fun. You wanna party with us, don't you?"

"Yeah... no! No!" Lucas tried to resist, but it was no use. The chemicals and instructions forced open new neural pathways, replacing the old Lucas with a far more extroverted one. "Uh... hell... yeah..."

"Most of all, if you wanna be like us you've gotta look the part, man. You want to look like us. You will look like a preppy frat stud."

It felt like hands were gripping Lucas's body from all directions, pushing, kneading, and tugging. Only seconds later his back cracked loudly. With a long, loud, uninterrupted moan, he arched backward as he began to grow taller. His legs pushed out along the rough carpet and his arms dangled longer at his sides.

To his horror, his jacket and shirt ruffled like they were in a gust of wind, shifting and warping. Lucas shrieked in bliss feeling his rail-thin chest puff outward to fill what was now a button-down shirt while lean abs bubbled to the surface just below.

"No, god... No... what am I... I... I... oooooohhhhhh!"

Another guttural cry echoed off the walls along with a large helping of pre-cum ejecting into Lucas's shifting underwear. His lanky arms pulsated, lean muscles bulging underneath tanning skin towards hands that were popping and jutting out larger across the floor. Sweat ran down his tied arms, dripping off the ends of his twitching, lengthening fingers.

Lucas had almost forgotten that the three preppy studs were still in the room with him, softly pawing at their thick cocks as they watched him become more and more like them.

"Feel good, bro?" one of them whispered, "Doesn't it feel fucking great to become a proper man?"

Lucas could only muster a moan and a nod, too enamored with the bulging muscles growing down his legs and his swelling, perky butt that threatened to ruin his jeans any moment. Those began to change too though, the denim becoming softer, looser, and better fitting shorts that hugged his new bubble butt.

"No, n-, n-, n-..." Lucas murmured in the death throes of his resistance as the changes progressed and took hold of his cock.

With his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open and looking up at the handsome figures towering above, Lucas felt his hard cock stir dramatically in what was now an expensive pair of underwear

"AUUUGH! Fuck yeah!"

His face and head throbbed, his jaw tightening while his cock pulsed heavier and thicker, pre-cum flowing like a fountain against his muscular thigh. Like his cock, the toes in his boots stretched longer, striking the ends of the footwear. The pressure suddenly dropped, however, when the boots themselves shifted in shape and size, becoming a fresh pair of large, size twelve boat shoes. Large soles and long, bony toes tore through the remains of his socks, inching forward to fill the jockish footwear.

At the same time, his cock was running out of room in his pants while at the same time his skull felt like it was being squeezed as it took on a squarer shape. Lucas groaned for mercy through gritted teeth that were becoming straighter and whiter. His nose shrunk cuter, while brown eyes become a striking blue. The messy black hair he'd long worn lightened in tone, combing over neat and handsome.

Before that fateful night, Lucas would have had much to say on how he shrugged off the "shackles" of beauty standards and masculinity. But now... now he knew he was beautiful, he could feel it. The lean, slim muscles and his large, swelling cock oozed masculinity, and he loved it.

The transformed Lucas sat there smiling dumbly, moaning, almost drooling as he thrust his bulging crotch upward.

The three other preppy jocks examined the now lean, handsome man head to toe and gave each other smirks of approval, and switched off the projector.

Lucas' eyes fluttered as he left the spiral's trance and the last of the catalytic chemicals in his body were used up. His balls swelled and tensed up, ready to launch their load.

"Man, I'm gonna... gonna..." Lucas growled, breaking free of his restraints and desperately fishing his cock out of his chino shorts before it launched rope upon rope of thick cum halfway across the room.

"Lucas, welcome to Davidson," the main jock chuckled, slapping the newly inducted preppy stud on the back.

"Heh, thanks, man," Lucas panted, "Call me Luke, by the way."

"Alright Luke, if you wanna put that trouser snake of yours away, Daniel here will show you where your dorm is."

Luke barely realized his long, soft cock was still out in the open. He hurriedly stuffed it back into his shorts before following his fellow prep bros to his new campus dorm.

--- Originally posted on 2020-05-23 by shapedbydesire ---

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

A nerd couldn’t stand his dumb jock roommate anymore. He learned a spell to change his roommate to be alike him but before he finished his spell the jock was aware of what the nerd would do to him. The jock grins and threw his dirty socks into the nerd’s mouth and began his own ritual to make him a perfect bro.

John Andrew was, to say the very least, a bit uptight. It was the first thing anyone could tell about the young collegiate scholar. But when you insisted on going by both your first and your middle name, it became pretty obvious that there was a stick lodged up your ass.

But he was rich, and brilliant, so he saw those things as a free pass to being an unpleasant person. He had every right to hold himself above everyone he met, because to John Andrew, that was exactly the truth. He was superior. Top of his class, always wearing designer clothes, a great family name at his disposal.

If not every single student in his university, there was at least one particular individual that he knew he was several heads and shoulders above. Travis James, or as he insisted to be called, “TJ” was a waste of an already worthless athletic scholarship. John Andrew wasn’t positive the guy had even passed elementary school, let alone qualifying for the same prestigious college as he did. At least the meathead could throw a ball around, right?

John Andrew could forgive the fact that TJ was dumber than a bag of bricks if not for two reasons. One being, there were too many other flaws to give just one of them a free pass, and two, John Andrew was trapped in a shared dorm with the disgusting idiot. The star athlete and the star academic, in one space, even his parents couldn’t argue the reason behind it.

But they weren’t the ones forced to swim through TJ’s sweaty gym clothes abandoned on the floor, they didn’t have to listen to him moan out some bimbo’s name as his bed frame knocked against the wall, they didn’t have to cover their noses and wretch whenever he let out a booming fart. The guy didn’t even realize how repulsive he was. He’d just smile, and burp, stretching out his arms and letting his pit stench waft into the air. “Dude, I need to take a shit.”

John Andrew could care less if TJ tried to be friendly, if he tried to invite the outcast nerd to all the coolest parties in an attempt to bring him out of his shell. One of them actually had a future to seek out, the other could afford to throw all of his ambitions away. So John Andrew kept telling himself to wait it out, that sooner than later he’d be free. He’d be on the top, where he belonged, and TJ would end up working construction on one of his many buildings later in life.

Then the prank happened. Or, at least, the prank that broke the straw on the camel’s back. John Andrew was trying to sleep before his big exam that next morning, already tucked away long before midnight. When TJ stumbled back into their dorm, drunk and gassy, he walked into John Andrew’s room while looking for the restroom. “Fuck,” was all he could say as he rubbed at his bloated stomach, looking down at his roommate’s exposed face sleeping soundly. He couldn’t resist it. It was a classic prank, he and his best bros had gotten lots of great laughs out of it over the years.

TJ stomped over and swung his big meaty body in position, almost graceful in his movements. Like he knew exactly what he was doing. And when he let a squelching fart rip right in John Andrew’s face, it was the scream heard all around the campus. The nerd was frantic, and furious, and gagging, and all TJ could do was let out another one. “Bro, I need to take the biggest dump. You want me to take a pic so you can see?”

No, he didn’t. He didn’t want to see TJ ever again. When he stormed out of their dorm that night, it was nearly a week later before he returned. He had aced his exam, but the memory of the rotten egg-like stench and the humiliation still wore on him, and it took him time to gather his thoughts. Now he had a plan, tucked away in the bags under his arms and the incantation scrawled across the piece of paper in his back pocket. If TJ wouldn’t fix himself, then John Andrew would.

It had taken many online searches and a few calls to close family friends, but he had learned an occult ritual to bend a person into the image of another. His traits and goals could be imprinted on TJ’s caveman brain. He didn’t think the jock was quite worthy of being his second coming, but people always said that two was better than one. What was the harm in two self-obsessed nerds with superiority complexes? Maybe then John Andrew would finally have someone he could hold a conversation with.

Setting up the ritual was easier than he expected, just a few chalk lines and one of TJ’s many abandoned gym socks at the center of the circle, candles burning all around the room. All he had left to do was add his essence to the air, transferring his energy into the thing that represented his roommate. Just a simple exhale, and he would have someone worthy of calling a companion. He was excited, voice rising higher as he went ahead with the incantation.

And then the door swung open, and TJ stumbled in drunk. “Bro! You’re finally home, fuck.” He was clutching his beer gut again, like he always was, smiling like an idiot. “I missed my best dude!” Then he noticed the candles, scrunching his face together and chuckling. “Bro, I missed Halloween? Fuck, we should get wasted.” He stomped forward, chuckling as his big feet tore through the chalk lines. John Andrew was sputtering, trying to stand up before tripping over himself and landing in the center of the circle. The slip of paper slid over to where TJ was standing.

All at once, everything went wrong, and so suddenly. His nose was hovering right over TJ’s sweaty sock, and the jock himself was looming over John Andrew in the circle. The big oaf bent down to pick up the paper, making his trademark “I don’t get it” face once again. He tried to repeat the words on the paper, getting eerily close to how they were meant to be pronounced. John Andrew couldn’t move, at first because he was stunned, but then because an electric charge was moving through him.

When TJ was finished, nothing changed, and John Andrew let out a breath of relief. He looked down at the sock, exhaling a bigger breath. Wasn’t that what the spell asked for? Wasn’t he still in control? Then TJ’s massive legs were on either side of his head, and he was in a headlock, the sock being crammed into his mouth. He gagged on the salty, sour flavor. TJ just kept laughing, letting a fart slip out. And then another one, because why not.

“My prank is better than your witch shit, bro!” But this wasn’t meant to be a prank, and now it was ruined, and... Was John Andrew higher off the ground? He found it more difficult to turn himself over than it should have been, spitting the sock out of his mouth and rotating his body to look at a developing shelf of pecs. The stench of TJ’s fart was still heavy in the air, thick with his essence, and John Andrew was still lying in the center of the circle. Covered in the stench, sweat dripping from his lips.

He tried to get up quickly, but tripped over his stretching feet. “Fuck. No.” He never swore, but this situation called for it. His hips flared out, thighs straining against his pant legs. It was like the air from the fart was inflating him, like he kept getting taller and thicker with every inhale. “Help,” was all he could whine, but the only person to hear him was TJ. The big jock strolled over with a light chuckle, throwing his sweaty bicep around his roommate’s widening neck.

“Man, you been working out? Sick gains.” John glanced down, and he couldn’t help but agree with TJ. He tried to tell himself it was more the fact that what was happening to him was sick, and twisted, but then he flexed a bicep without meaning to. It swelled in front of him, and he was smiling, for just a moment. Then he pulled away from his roommate, trying to run away, but all of the bulk and girth made his legs like jello. It didn’t matter that they were shredded, or that he was an absolute unit of a man.

When his cock started to swell in his gym shorts, which he didn’t remember ever putting on, he fell to one knee. He couldn’t stop himself from shoving a big meaty hand into his jockstrap pouch, fishing out the python now growing in his hands. “Oh, fuck. I’m so fucking horny, bro.” His eyes were so full of fear, he couldn’t believe the words that had just left his lips, but TJ was thrilled. It was nice having someone who understood him. The jock was starting to forget that this was a nerd who always tried to avoid him, that he enjoyed pissing off because he was such a prissy little fucker, and was remembering that they really were best bros. And now his best bro was jacking off right in front of him.

“Ha, dude. You should have went to the party. This one chick had the biggest rack of tits.” John, or Andrew, or whatever the fuck his name was could only grunt, laughing for no reason because that was what TJ did. And TJ fucking loved girls with huge racks, so JA - AJ? - did, too. Yeah, TJ and AJ, best bros since the first time they met and had a farting contest in front of the college scouts. It was kind of hard to tell them apart. They played the same position in football, on opposite sides of the field. They went to the same parties, wore the same clothes, lived in the same filth and flunked all the same classes. They even banged the same chick, once or twice. At the same time.

John Andrew and all of his superiority welled up like cum in AJ’s nut sack, every trace of him had disappeared from the room. All of his clothes, all of his books, even the signs that the ritual had even occurred in the first place. The stench grew heavier as if two jocks had been living here all along. All AJ could do was laugh, busting his nut in his shorts and wiping off the globs of cum on the outside of his shorts. There was hair all over him now, tattoos on his chest, a cap on his head. He was so fucking hot. All it took was a selfie to make the girls cream themselves.

“Dude, I’m an absolute tank. You wish you had guns like these.” TJ just chuckled, punching his best bro in the arm and walking into the kitchen to fix a late night meal. White chicken and rice, pure protein, now AJ’s favorite snack, too. He kept scratching his balls as he followed his bud, licking his lips as the food was being prepared. It wasn’t until TJ set his plate aside that AJ leaned over, trying not to chuckle and ruin the joke. “Dude, do you want some special sauce for that?”

TJ just blinked, like an idiot, because they were both idiots. “What special sauce, dude?” Then AJ turned on his heels, bending over and pressing his big ass right over his roommate’s plate on the table. He let a protein fart rip right into the air, right over the food, and TJ couldn’t even be mad about it. He plugged his nose and guffawed. “Dude, you are fucking rank!” And he was. AJ was a pig, and a stud, and he loved it. He was so lucky to have TJ as his friend and roommate.

He was lucky to be just like someone who was so fucking awesome. Thick, dumb, and gross as fuck. Because he had a right to be. Maybe he still had a superiority complex, huh?

“Finish your food, bro. This pussy hound wants to go huntin’ tonight.”

Purgatory

--- Original author: realhankmccoy ---

Q: Bro, you were so smart, bro. Why’d you have to go throw it away like that?

A: Because I had to, man. I guess I just felt like it was something I had to do. Haven’t you ever gotten the feeling that you just had to do something? I’m really glad that I did choose this, too. Love working out.

Q: You had a great future ahead of you, though. Graduate studies at King’s College, a future in the National Health Service, all sorts of prospective opportunities with biotechnology companies, in research, or in higher education. Look at you now, and look at your priorities now. I don’t even recognise you, bro. The studious, bright young scholar you were has been replaced by some sort of aspiring muscle jock. How far are you going to take it with this? You’re not going to seriously keep working out, are you? Are you really planning on getting even bigger?

A: It’s true, man, haha, I am not the same wimp anymore. Not at all. I’m maybe at the halfway mark, the way I see it, in becoming the sort of bro I want to be. A lot has changed for me. Yeah, that guy I was, he was smart and all, but I wasn’t happy. I feel like he’s starting to cease to exist. He’s maybe halfway out the door at this point. I’ve been watching a lot of rugby lately. Been watching Manchester United. Kinda want to try Australian footy someday.

Q: No way, bro. But kinda beside the point, now you’ve got me curious about any potential fetishes of yours. How do you feel about ‘man chest hair’, since we’re on the subject? You want to get united with that?

A: Haha, clever, man. Wordplay or whatever. Yeah, chest hair is fucking hot to me. I swear it’s even hotter lately. Always grabs my attention, but that’s what it’s biologically supposed to do, strictly speaking. Not that I really care about the science of it all as much right now, haha. Just love the way it looks.

A: Maybe you should just stop where you are right now, bro. Ok, yeah, I agree that maybe the guy you were before was kind of overly bookish, but you have to admit that right where you are right now, sort of right in between two worlds, probably strikes the perfect balance. You’ve got a tight jock bod and yet are still capable of being conscientious and having an intelligent conversation. Why ruin that?

A: Am I at a nicely balanced level, ha? I don’t know man. I sure feel kind of stupid. In a way it’s like my mind doesn’t run away all the time like it used to. I feel more of a greater sense of calm. I suppose you’re right, though. So, to answer your question, yes, I am going to take it further.

Q: What’s it like to not even be away from the classroom so much?

A: It’s strange, to have not not studied very hard at all in so long, already. I’m not sure I could ever pick up where I left off. I mean, I used to be able to do the Schrödinger equation and the wave equation. I don’t think I could right now. Even the word ‘equation’ seems kinda funny to me right now, to be honest. Haha. I doubt Stephen Hawking would be very proud of me for that.

Q: Bro, but what about the major good your science and math background could do for humanity? It’s not too late. Lots of people take a gap year. You could just make this your gap year and start focusing on again.

A: I guess, but when you’re in these highly competitive fields, it’s not so simple as writing it all off as a gap year, really. Also, why would I want to give this up? Everyone’s treating me way better, mostly. Even the ones who are jealous to see that I’m becoming something they wouldn’t ever have the work ethic to ever become make me feel good about myself, in a way. Haha. A lot of them just want to play the victim.

Q: What do you mean by that? Bro, do you want to end up stupid or something?

A: Might not be so bad. Dude, my back’s sweaty, because it’s hot in here, haha. My pits are kinda sweaty, too. I need a bottled water. I swear I can already feel all the muscle swelling up from that last pump. I know it takes a few days, but it’s still a good feeling, that post-working endorphin high.

Q: See bro, you never would have talked like that before. You’d have been going on about how fascinating fenestrated capillaries are and how they contrast with much-wider sinusoidal capillaries, going on about basal laminae, getting technical… what are you doing to yourself, really? You wouldn’t have even drank bottled water before. You’d have been saying a refillable glass is healthier for the planet, or something that’s all socially conscientious, bro.

A: Yeah, haha, that’s pretty funny. Use it or lose it, they say, which is why I intend to keep working out and upping my workouts. I love these gains, bro. So maybe I do want to end up stupid, haha. I gotta say, it’s true that I used to hate on gym bunny types, but now that I’ve sort of become one myself, I totally get it. You don’t really know it until you try it. Feels so good, bro. I really could care less if folks want to call me stupid. It’s not like I really have time to read anymore, and most people don’t at all. So it’s no big deal if you don’t, really.

Q: What do you mean you don’t really have time?

A: Who has time to read? It’s a serious question. There’s work to be done, man. Plus I’m at the gym a lot. Ok, haha, I’m not that stupid, at least not yet, so I’m just kinda fucking with you, bro. I know reading’s a good thing.

Q: Most people think it’s a good thing, bro.

A: Yeah, but to be totally honest, I really haven’t in a while now. I picked up the Canturbury Tales on a bus ride. Thought I’d revisit it, and really didn’t want to bother with my technical textbooks, you know. Just some weekend ready. The Wife of Bath’s tale has always been my favorite. Raunchy stuff. But really, I stopped about a quarter through as I was getting sick of it. A lot of that’s just that I’ve read it before, anyway. Plus it’s hard to see how relevant Middle English is right now, especially with Brexit going on and all.

Q: With Brexit and all? How do you feel about Brexit?

A: Yeah, I don’t know, I see myself as more outside of politics now. It’s just not my thing, man. I honestly am getting kind of sick of seeing anything political in art, in the schools, in the workforce, in movies, even in porn, in everything. Jordan Peterson is right that it definitely doesn’t belong in universities. Those are supposed to be about learning facts, not about indoctrination. And you have to admit, we’ve got a lot to focus on right now other than just college.

Q: Seriously?

A: Yes, seriously! Look at what the Americans are doing. We could learn a lot from them. In a lot of ways I think it was, in retrospect, actually kind of a mistake to isolate ourselves from the USA. Even places like India would probably be better off if they still had colonial rule, and I know that’s not politically correct. But markets are important, even to scientists, who need to get their supplies from like, China. It’s a global economy now. I’m just not as much of a bleeding heart as I used to be, I guess. I think it’s important to stay prepared and to make sure businesses want to have their headquarters in the UK, right? We can all agree that that’s a good thing. And the facts are that it’s harder to do that with a high corporate tax rate.

Q: Bro, you used to say discussing politics was for those who didn’t want to focus on work. And now you’re one of those guys you probably would have caalled stupid. It’s really something to witness. You really seem to think you know it all now, or that you maybe even talk like you think you’re better than others or something. I can hear it in your voice, basically.

A: Well, hey bro, like the left doesn’t think they’re better than others? They’re the masters of that. They’re the ones trying to manipulate and cancel everything. I don’t believe in either party really. Labour controls the media, so you never hear the negative sides about them. It’s important to have two balanced political poles, I think. And mostly I’m just annoyed that politics has just gotten into a lot of things it shouldn’t even be in.

Q: You already said that, bro. You really do seem stupider than before to me. You definitely seem cockier and less interested in listening. You used to say all stupid people suffer from Dunning-Kruger.

A: Dunning-Kruger, lol. More like Dumbing-Kruger.

Q: You think that’s funny? What’s so funny, bro?

A: Hey, don’t piss me off, man. Look, like I said, I don’t really care if people want to at like I’m stupid. I knew some guys would say I’m stupid just because I wanted to work out and do something better with my body than I had been. You can’t win with a lot of people.

Q: It’s not too late, bro. Have you at all considered that maybe you should purge this muscle hunk fixation from right out of your mind before it’s too late? You’re becoming somebody totally different. Or at least don’t push this muscle stud game further.

A: Why would I want to do head back in the wrong direction, bro? Look, guys are way more into me now. I got a ton of adds on Instagram. And as a guy, you’re supposed to have muscle. It’s biologically what’s attractive to others, isn’t it? I was too thin before. When I look at those guys who are total studs with their pecs and cobbled 8-pack abs, it gets me hard as fuck. Not gonna lie. I’ve always wanked to those guys. It was probably just a matter of time.

Q: Bro, but why are you so into your own body all of a sudden? Has your philosophy on gay life changed at all?

A: Haha, yeah, not gonna lie, my perspective has changed. I used to consider myself gay and all. Now I’m just a guy who happens to be into guys, I think. I don’t see any real need to advertise my sexuality. I mean, we have our rights, so that’s kind of over now. I’d rather just be the best guy I can be. So yeah, getting into my body, flexing in front of the mirror and all that, is really helping me develop a sort of confidence I never had before.

Q: Dude, that’s totally hilarious. A guy who just happens to be into other guys?

A: Yeah, I mean, isn’t sex supposed to be kinda funny, haha? It’s not hilarious, man, it’s hot. Plus I thought we were supposed to be able to choose from multiple identities these days? I’m more fun now than I ever was in bed, probably. I love getting sweaty and wrestling with a guy, having him feel these abs and flex while I feel up his biceps. I’ve gotten way more comfortable with my body. I love doing a double biceps pose and facing another guy who’s doing the same, that eye contact, that kind of intense… it’s almost like a brotherhood, man. I’ve noticed my sex sessions are getting way longer.

Q: Tell me about that.

A: Well, I don’t know, I’ve been hooking up and having fun for sure. Last guy I had over, he wanted to get all shirtless and sweaty with me on my couch. So we did. So I’m drinking a Thatchers Cider and it’s tasting really good, and I’m leaning over him, kissing him, maybe more aggressively than I usually do. I’m so randy these days, it seems. He’s just focused on my abs, feeling them up, and asking me to flex. So I flexed, first in a double biceps, then, with my arms behind my head so I could flaunt my abs and my triceps. That’s when he said that my pits were so fucking beautiful. So, I kept doing it. Then he wanted to lick them out. Said my hairy armpits looked hot and he felt lucky to be able to see them up close. I’ve never had a guy suggest that before or flatter me in that way. So I let him. He said I smell so good, man. That felt good.

Q: Aww dude. Fuck. I kinda see where you’re coming from with this all. That’s hot for sure, bro.

A: Right? It’s way more pleasurable than trying to do research on the Great Barrier reef. In a lot of ways, it’s probably even more useful than memorising rote facts, like how your nose can remember 50,000 different scents. What’s a statistic like that matter compared to actually stopping and smelling the roses sometimes?

Q: I wonder how many of those 50,000 scents are the scents of a guy’s musk, haha. Do you mean to find that out, bro? How many pits you been in?

A: Haha, yeah bro, I mean, I’ve definitely gotten sluttier and I’m not ashamed of that at all. I love learning how to kind of dominate a guy, lead him on, and I’m getting more energetic as a top. I like my face in their pits, too, it turns out.

Q: You do look a lot better, there’s no getting around that.

A: Yeah man? Fuck. I feel better for sure. You think I should go all the way?

Q: Bro, just that you say that or even suggest it is pretty hot to me. Just being real. I still think you’re in the perfect middle ground right now. But the thought of you pushing it further…. hell… in some ways I feel like you’re turning into a sort of deity. A muscle king among men. Don’t tell anyone I said that.

A: Yeah? Like some sort of muscle God? Haha. I”m fine with that for sure.

Q: Yeah bro, you’re definitely getting to be closer to… well, maybe it’s better left unsaid. I know I really shouldn’t be encouraging you.

A: That I’m becoming better than I was before? Haha. Bro, it’s ok. I already fully intend to pack on at least another ten, fifteen pounds of muscle and might go even further than that. I used to think where I’m at now was more than I’d ever want.

Q: You really have changed. It’s kinda awesome to witness.

A: You admit that this is awesome, right? You like these muscles, man?

Q: Fuck yeah I like those guns, muscle boy. Aww fuck. Flex for me.

A: Awwww, fuck yeah bro. I love this.

Q: Fuck yeah you love this, idiot.

A; Fuck, it’s so hot when you call me an idiot, man.

Q: Fuck yeah it’s hot.

A: I gotta tell you man, I really don’t give a fuck anymore. All I want to do is be the best muscle dude I can be.

Q? Yeah? You’d like that, muscle boy?

A: Yeah. To be as sexy as I want to be, get all the cock, man. I don’t care if I’m turning into a slut even.

Q: Fuck yeah you want it, slut.

A: Aww fuck. Call me that again, man.

Q: You’re a fucking slut, muscle boy. There is no going back for you. I can tell. What a shame, dumbass. You’re gonna be just another stupid muscle boy.

A: Yes. Fuck yes. I can feel it, man. There’s no choice anymore. I can’t go back to the route I was on.

Q: Then run with it, muscle boy. Be the best muscle slut you can be.

A: Exactly, man, yes, I’m going to. The guy I used to be was boring, barely living. Now I feel alive. It feels soooo good when you call me stupid.

Q: That’s because you are stupid.

A: Fuck. Yes. You know I am, man. Suck on my jock cock. I want you to. I want you on your fucking knees worshipping me as I flex and talk about how much muscle I’m gonna put on still.

Q: Suck on my cock, muscle slut. Then maybe I will.

A: Aww, fuck yeah. Ok man. Fuck. (mmmmph, mmmph). Fuck yeah! (gasp, mmmph, mmmph) Fucking delicious! All I want to do is jock up, suck dick, get fucked, fuck random guys… Fuck, man. I want it so bad, man. You’re hot, man. I think everything about man sex is so hot. (slurpppp, mmphhhs)

Q: You’re gonna get fucked tonight, muscle slut. And I’m going to tell you about how thick your pecs are gonna be, and how hot your bubble butt is, and how sexy it is that you’d do a stupid thing like jock yourself up. Every kiss I give you will make you dumber. We’re gonna snort so many poppers that we’re both going to be drooling on each other and not have any thoughts left. It’ll just be sex, bro. Sex, sex, sex. Muscle sex, man sex, biceps sex, furry leg sex, hairy crotch sex, licking necks sex, slobbery kisses sex, nipple-flicking sex, and slutty dumbfuck sex.

A: Fuuuuuuuuckk yeah… kiss me.

Q: Fuck yeah, bro. (smack, slurrrpp)

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”

--- Originally posted on 2023-04-04 by breedertfs --- --- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---

Arabian Nectar

“Drink, brother. I see you admire, and so I assist.” Robbie, who only moments ago had a hairless jaw and pale skin, was unable to pry himself away from the perky, golden nipple he now found himself suckling from. Even beneath a swirl of dark, wiry hair, he was entranced by the salty taste and musk of Amir’s hard earned sweat. His every nerve ending seemed to come alive with every lick and slurp of the tangy flesh. The handsome man in front of him was telling the truth, after all. Robbie had been admiring the Middle Eastern hunk for most of his workout at the gym throughout the day, unable to stop himself from risking a few glances when they eventually found themselves alone together in the locker room. Robbie, horny as he might be, was a polite and sensible twink, and he would have never for a second thought that he had a chance with the obviously straight, macho Amir. His attraction was harmless. Until the tan man snapped his fingers at him, that is, commanding Robbie’s attention before lifting his sweaty tank and hooking it around his neck to reveal his plump pecs and a healthy coating of body hair.

At first Robbie was stunned, lightly aroused, but more than anything confused. It took Amir nodding his head down at his chiseled pecs to get Robbie to snap back to reality, walking forward on feet he didn’t entirely feel in control of. He could feel his heart hammering as he approached the attractive man, could feel his throat tighten at the rank scent wafting into his nostrils. Spicy and earthy, and very potent, everything about Amir seemed to be traditional and masculine. He calmly watched the white boy approach with timid steps. “Sorry for staring,” Robbie began as he closed in, meaning to stop but still stepping closer and closer to his surprise. “I was just admiring, wait wha—” Robbie startled, leaning down and forward mid-sentence as he finally came face to face with Amir’s chest. He opened his mouth to protest, to ask questions, only for Amir’s large hand to secure itself on the back of his head.

“Suck, brother.” Robbie’s open mouth was forced to close around the nipple, face pressed into the hot, ripe flesh of the stud before him. Stink play was definitely not one of his kinks, and being man-handled wasn’t doing him any favors. He tried to fight against Amir’s grip, tiny hands failing to push the slabs of meat away from him. “It is a shame to eye fuck men when you can eye fuck women, no?” As Amir spoke, each thrum of his deep voice vibrated through Robbie’s core. The twink couldn’t stop his feasting. Obediently suckling from Amir’s nipple, tongue darting out to swirl against the salty skin, lapping up every ounce of sweat. “If you wish to spend time with me as a man, it should only be as a brother.”

Robbie could feel his jaw tighten as he nuzzled against the pec, a bristle of dark hairs covering his lips and then his cheeks and eventually his entire chin. As Amir ran his fingers through Robbie’s hair, no longer pressing down quite as forcefully, the strands seemed to go on for longer than the white boy remembered. Thick, dark, luscious, being swept back into a traditional, well groomed style. His eyebrows thickened and grew heavy, dark, forming a menacing line over his currently blissed out expression. He could feel his shoulders broadening within his shirt, heat sparking up in his pits and in his crotch, a heady scent of sweat oozing from his pores to match Amir’s aromatic musk. He continued to suck, to worship, to accept the gift being presented to him. He felt obliged to follow Amir in the way a man would follow a trusted general, or a political figure. As more and more of the essence coated his insides, pouring down his throat, he began to feel less excitement about the source of the nectar and saw the pecs as a means to an end, more than anything else. Amir produced the sweetest honey, and Robbie was grateful to receive it.

But as his hips widened and his large, muscular ass stretched his tight boxer briefs to their limit, he was powerless to stop the images forming in his mind. A rational voice tried to urge him to pay attention, to realize that none of this was normal, there was no reason he should be sucking Amir’s nipple all these minutes later, and there’s no way the sensations running across his body could be real. He licked, inhaled, and more and more of Amir’s scent invaded his senses until it felt as if he was breathing in his own scent, too. Beautiful women began to appear in his mind, golden skinned and raven haired, women from his home country. He could feel his cock lengthening in his shorts, a sweaty mass of dark hair forming a forest around it, heating up with every pulse and throb. Something was wrong. All he wanted to do was get a good workout and check out a few cute guys, but now the thought of that made his lip curl in disgust. A man’s purpose in a gym should only be to improve himself, and to bond with his brothers. The white twink had been effectively replaced by a proud Middle Eastern man, broodingly handsome and more than happy to show off his hardened body to any interested female. He was every bit the kind of man Amir expected a true brother to be.

Releasing his lips from the nipple, mind blanking and resetting, new and improved personality quickly squashing the whining twink’s consciousness into a headlock at the very back of his own mind — Rahim rises to his feet, removing his shirt to reveal his muscular form, gaze looking over Amir’s shoulder and instead settling on his own reflection. Rahim was deeply traditional, the kind of man who would wait until marriage to seed a womb, but was more than happy to ass-fuck horny white women who thought they had any chance of swaying him. They were simply holes to be filled, things to be won in conquest. If you couldn’t find him eating out a white woman’s pussy, then you would find him here in the gym with his brother, Amir. He was a man of simple pleasures. They lived together in the same bachelor pad, moving to this country together many years ago for the opportunities it provided. Following in Amir’s image, life was perfect. Rahim took out his phone, walking away from his brother and going to admire his reflection in one of the locker room mirrors.

“Thank you for the wake up call, brother.” He glanced at the large amount of messages flooding his inbox, the regular hook ups begging for him to fill them up, new women hoping to try for a taste of his cum, a few ladies even asking if his brother would be open to a threesome. He only smirked, licked his lips, and recorded a short video to send to all of these chicks to appease them for now. His cock still throbbed in his shorts, ball sack swollen and full of his superior seed, but he couldn’t allow his mind to be so easily clouded by lust. “I should focus on my workout, and my time with my brother,” Rahim decided finally.

His python would surely get its satisfaction later.

--- Originally posted on 2023-03-28 by breedertfs ---

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

That Wish Stinks

“W-wait, let me be more clear!” The blonde twink barely has the chance to lift his hands up, gasping in shock, as a glowing rift appears in front of him.

In a half hour, his boyfriend is coming over to spend a fun evening cuddling in the sheets watching their favorite show together, but to Christopher’s dismay, his older brother is still crashing at his place. What was supposed to be a weekend has turned into a near month of free-loading, and for all that time, the admittedly prissy and tidy twink has been at his absolute limit.

Chad got laid off at his construction job, and their parents moved out of state years ago, so they couldn’t offer help. And as much as Christopher was horrified by the idea of being trapped in a house with his slob older bro again… what else could he do? But now, wading through beer cans and fast food wrappers and choking on the fumes that only a straight jock can produce, his empathy seems more like a mistake than a virtue.

It’s as Christopher is trying to clean under his couch that his fingers come into contact with a very warm and very sticky and EXTREMELY foul smelling sock. His big bro’s cum sock, hardened in some spots but still moist in others. “EWWW!” was all Christopher could cry out, rushing to grab more paper towels and cleaning supplies. In his frustration, going down on both knees to better clean the pig sty, he makes his wish.

“I wish my brother wasn’t the absolute filthiest, most stereotypical, stupid jock in town,” he started sassily, happy that his brother was gone and pumping iron at the gym so that he could express his thoughts openly. But that’s when the rift appeared, a glowing and radiant energy that somehow seemed to stare right at him, pulsing with light.

Wish granted.

Try as he might to protest, not realizing some entity was listening to his ill fated wish, Christopher is powerless as the rift consumes him. It feels like he is being stretched on all sides, legs extending and arms stretching, far past the limits of his older bro. In the rift, he could only stare in horror at a swirling mass of green fumes, reeking of the same foul, gnarly scent of Chad’s farts. The same ones that haunted Christopher in his youth, pretty little face squashed under those hairy, sweaty cheeks after no-consent wrestling.

He’s trying to scream when the gas goes straight down his throat, pouring into his being, making his eyes water as the last remnants of the twink wail and gag. He could down every inch of his boyfriend’s cock, but this was unalike anything he had ever experienced. As he inhaled the fart, his stretched body filled in all the spaces his former lithe frame couldn’t compensate for. His newfound stout, commanding figure bore a striking resemblance to Chad’s, but it seemed to go a step further. More swole, more reeking.

In a flash, his thin jaw cracks into a strong, lantern cleft chin. His shoulders pop up and broaden into boulders, football sized biceps following suit, he can’t help but to flex them. The twink used to hate burly men, Christopher used to hate size and smell and hair, but now Topher is grinning down at his sick ass gains, his huge muscular thighs straining against his sweatpants. His cock stirs, hardening, growing in size and length as the head of it rubs against the fabric, going commando because that’s just who he is. The new him. It throbs with the urge to be released, to penetrate, the flood of testosterone in his senses rewiring all of his urges, erasing every aspect of who he used to be to make room for who he wishes to be.

All he wanted right now was to plow a bimbo and seed her, pass on his majestic jock genes for the future generation, and make her cry out his name as he plays with her tits. He can’t even remember his boyfriend anymore. That’s not something he’s ever considered, not Topher. If you think Chad is a walking stereotype, just meet his brother, that’s what everyone says. Chad’s got nothing on Topher.

The absolute filthiest, most stereotypical, stupid jock in the house.

He settles into reality, raising his arms into his new favorite pose, breathing in deep the scent of his musk. His workout shirt is stained to hell and back, but he’s proud. There’s a bag of fast food junk he smashed earlier for his bulk, and there’s two cum rag socks under the coach he and his little bro share when they gotta let off some steam. Shit, what he wouldn’t give for some pussy right now. Maybe when Chad gets home from his pump Topher can propose a night out to go and satisfy their pythons. He’d be home in about twenty minutes, and Topher has a mean fart brewing in his gut that’s he’s gonna use for a glorious, protein reeking prank to greet him.

Then the doorbell rings, and Topher is surprised to see some fairy stumbling over his words on his porch, asking where his boyfriend is. Topher just chuckles, dim eyes looking sharp for possibly the first time ever. “Hey, uh, I still get two wishes?” A familiar rift started to appear over the frightened queer’s head as Topher, pawing his engorging cock, thought of how great life was doing to be living in his man cave with his bro, the next best thing to himself, and how even still it could be all just a little bit better.

“I wish I had a bimbo side piece standing on my front porch right about now.”

Roommate Needed One

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

The shelves of the university library pressed in close around my lonely little desk. I had been studying all morning for my exam that afternoon. This week had been busier than usual but I was a dedicated student, and knew that if I studied hard enough, everything would work out fine. I shifted my pile of books around and noticed a small piece of paper fall to the floor and land next to my feet. Out of curiosity, I picked it up. On one side was an address: 914 North Mayfield Street and on the other was a picture of a college aged man. He was clearly an athlete or part of some frat house. The address was on "Greek" street, so I assumed it was some lame invite to a party. But instead the card said, "Roommate Needed."

I put the card in my pocket and as I did felt my cock stir and harden. "That's weird," I whispered to myself. "Guess I've studied so long that I've gotten horny for some guy!" I tried to laugh it off, but my boner was getting bigger and forced me to readjust my underwear. I looked around the library to make sure no one was watching and then plunged my hand into my pants to straighten things out. What I felt was a package I never remembered having before. I glanced down and noticed that I was wearing tight-fitting black boxer briefs, a pair that I knew I hadn't put on that morning, much less ever owned. I unbuttoned my jeans to make room and in the process untucked my shirt and lifted it up a bit. Beneath was a toned six pack of abs.

Out of shock, I stood up and pulled my shirt up further. My chest and arms began pressing against the fabric of my button-up plaid shirt. I quickly unbuttoned it and pulled it over my head. Instead of the plain white t-shirt I normally wore, was a sporty black tank top. I flexed my arms in disbelief and saw the thick muscle tightening. Underneath the shirt, my skin had smoothed out, as if I had shaved my chest and tanned regularly. I pulled off my jeans, which were uncomfortably tight on my new thighs.

"I can't leave the library in my boxers," I thought to myself as I began rummaging through my bag. Although I couldn't remember packing them, I found a pair of black athletic shorts and a baseball cap. I put the hat on first, but turned it backwards after it felt awkward the other way. In the pocket of the shorts I found a silver necklace and a pair of sunglasses. Instinctively, I put my glasses on and snapped the small chain in place.

"Shit! I'm late for exam," I shouted as I gathered up my books. I left the library and walked down the street. Within a few minutes, I forgot where I was going, remember that I never went to class in the afternoon anyway, and found myself turning onto North Mayfield Street. With every step, I felt closer to home.

When I walked up the rickety steps covered in empty bottles and red solo cups, I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door. The beat up couch on the front porch reminded me of dozen of late night parties and game day celebrations. I tossed my bag in my room and headed into the kitchen. When I looked in the mirror, the face seemed familiar, like something I had seen in an advertisement. But who was I kidding, that would be ridiculous ... right?