Update

Originally posted on 2019-09-03 by dumb-and-jocked

What a Johnson’s Made Of

Taylor was ecstatic.

Everything had gone right for him today. He had graduated with flying colors, he had just received special honors that lead to an incredible scholarship, and his longtime crush had just asked him out. Sure, the first two were amazing, but the fact that one of the hottest girls in the school had asked him on a date was the cherry on top. Taylor wasn’t that bad looking himself, being tall, slightly muscular, and having stark, black hair. His nerdy personality and short temper were usually what drove people away.

Taylor walked back slowly to his house, the evening sun setting behind him.The river was gleaming as he strode confidently down the path. Graduation had been that morning, and he had partied with friends throughout the day. Now, it almost being dinner time, he was heading back to the lavish mansion his family owned. As he strolled, he noticed a large new development being built. He gazed on, looking at the many construction workers. He scoffed in disgust - why couldn’t any of them get real jobs. He was on the route to be a neurosurgeon, worlds apart from what these dimwits had to offer. As he passed by, one of the construction workers noticed his staring and called out to him.

“Like what you see?” he shouted, flexing his arms to show off his furry pits.

Taylor quickly placed a hand to his mouth, holding back vomit. He gulped it down and then lashed out.

“Shut up you dirty fag! You really think someone of my life would lower to your animalistic standards!”

“Woah, bro,” the construction worker replied back, “I was just aski-”

“Asking what? If I’d suck your worthless dick?” Taylor shouted, furious.

“Alright, that’s it.” The worker jumped down from the platform he was standing on and quickly walked over to the student. Before Taylor could even move, he felt a large paw start dragging him into the fight.

“Hey! You can’t do this! THIS IS ILLEGAL!” Taylor tried to get out, but the worker was too strong.

“Shut it, bro!” The worker responded back roughly, dragging him to what seemed to be the middle of the sight. Taylor began to notice a weird funk surrounding him, realizing he was taking in the scent of his captor. He coughed, showing that he was obviously irritated. The worker, being dumb but not oblivous, grabbed the kid and gave him a noogie, shoving a pit in Taylor’s face. Taylor tried to escape, being covered in pit sweat and dark hairs.

Once the worker had taken him out, they stood in the middle of the development. There, in front of the worker and Taylor, stood a very muscular male. He looked to be in his late forties, with a rugged beard and dad gut. He definitely worked a very physical job, his body showing meaty strength and wearing age. He was reading the blueprints of what seemed to be the house being built around them.

“Boss?” The worker said, grabbing his attention.

“Harvey?” The boss replied, his voice stern and rough.

“This kid was causing trouble outside, I think you oughta be the one to deal with him.” The boss thought about this for a moment before creating a miniature smirk underneath his furry mustache.

“Thank you, Harvey, you can get back to work now.” Harvey pushed Taylor over to the boss before walking away. The boss pointed to the trailer beside the construction and walked towards it. Taylor wanted to run, but all he could do was follow. He couldn’t believe how much trouble he had gotten himself into. He knees shook as he opened the door to the trailer and closed it, sitting down at the desk where the boss had his boots up on the table. Taylor sat there quietly, waiting for the boss to say something. He couldn’t really see the boss - his rather large boots blocking the view - but Taylor could feel the immense power seeping out of the man before him.

“Luke Johnson,” the boss said, not extending a hand, “I am the manager of this development.”

“Taylor Stenson,” Taylor replied timidly.

“Well, Taylor, it seems yer creatin’ some kinda commotion, is that correct?”

“I wasn’t do-!”

“Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.” Taylor didn’t know what he added that, it just felt appropriate.

“Then, let’s getta the point,” Luke responded, taking his boots off the desk and placing his feet under the table, “I don’t have time to deal with you, and you don’t have time to deal with me.”

Taylor sighed in relief, maybe all blue collar workers weren’t dumb jocks after all.

“Let’s make it so that you never existed, is that alright?”

“Yes!” Taylor said in glee. He couldn’t believe it was going to be this easy.

“Alright,” Luke said, standing up and extending his hand, “it’s a deal.”

“It’s a deal,” Taylor said, shaking it.

As soon as the shake was over, Luke grabbed Taylor’s arm and pulled him over the desk. Taylor screamed in fright before his face was slammed into a giant boot. Taylor held his breath for quite a while, but eventually gave in. He unintentionally took a deep breath, the musk invading his brain. The powerful scent of pure masculinity overrode his head, giving his a massive headache. Taking the boot with him, Luke slowly lifted Taylor back over the desk and into the chair. Luke sat on the desk in front of him, lowering the boot from his face.

“There, that’s a good boy,” Luke said, “Daddy’s got you.”

Luke put the first boot on the ground before removing the other and putting it next to its twin. The way he said “daddy” bounced around in Taylor’s head.

“Why… are…” Taylor tried to speak, but his head ached tremendously. The foot funk was still lingering deep within his mind.

“Shh… don’t worry. Daddy’s got you.”

With Taylor still in his haze, Luke swiftly removed his tight polo and khaki pants. Both items of clothing had been truly showing off what lay beneath, as Taylor now realized that a true male adonis stood before him. Luke was covered head-to-toe in muscles with defined abs, powerful pecs, and gigantic thighs among many things. As Luke sat back down, Taylor became even more scared at seeing the python begging for release underneath Luke’s yellowed jockstrap.

“You agreed to this,” Luke said, his deep voice soft and sensitive, “I’m going to make it so that you never existed. So instead of being a Stenson, yer gonna be a Johnson.”

“But… I don-”

“You don’t have to understand, because Daddy’s here for ya.” Before Taylor could jump in again, Luke stood up from the desk and turned around. Luke’s large, muscular bubble butt pushed its way back, lining up the crack right along the center of Taylor’s face. Taylor, being so mentally disorganized, couldn’t argue as he heard a small rumble build up from within in the meaty buttocks. Seconds later, Luke let rip a massive fart right into the teen’s face. Taylor tried to get air, but the only thing available was the gas.

As Taylor inhaled the putrid scent of a blue collar behind, he didn’t realize that his body was slowly changing. As he timidly sniffed away, his structure began to alter itself to the new reality it was to abide to.

First, his torso began to bulk up. Taylor had participated lightly in the gym and some sports, but now he was truly showcasing something drool worthy. Years of exterior work began to grow on him as hard pecs and abs formulated. Meat filled in the loose cracks as body fat shrunk away. A deep tan spread across his broadening shoulders and the unkempt hair upon his chest fell away. His belly button shrunk in as his nipples enlarged, becoming ever so sensitive to even the touch of a safety vest.

Even though his chest had developed quite noticeably, Taylor was still being bombarded by Luke’s crack to notice anything. He also didn’t recognize his memories beginning to alter, rearranging themselves to become more appropriate to the better reality. Images of being placed in advanced and enriched classes began to evaporate as they were replaced with a regular level education. Special honors and scholarships disappeared as he remembered passing with straight B’s.

Luke slowly unbuttoned Taylor shirt before ripping it off, proud to see the promising chest that was displayed beneath. Luke slowly backed away from Taylor, making sure that every last hair on his butt would caress Taylor’s face. Taylor blinked, still befuddled, but before he could fully regain consciousness he saw a giant foot shoved into his face. Not thinking straight, he began to sniff the foot and - to Taylor’s and Luke’s surprise - lick it. He was fairly timid, but Luke didn’t expect him to be such a quick learner. As Taylor sniffed away at the massive foot in front of him, he hadn’t realized how nasty the sock was. Luke hadn’t washed them in over a week, making them into a somewhat second skin. Taylor should have been far away from the feet, but he was too confused to care.

Next, Taylor’s legs began to reshape. Days of running became weeks, months, even years as muscle was poured into his calves and quads. Thighs thickened, pushing the seams of the skinny jeans as years of truly masculine sports flooded his brain. Hard meat popped out as his dark hairs took on a lighter hue. His quads expanded to the size of melons while his legs lengthened, stretching him to a dominant 6’3, but still shorter than Luke’s 6’4.

Taylor’s memories also shifted, becoming more suitable to his closer future. Study sessions with friends quickly became practices with bros. Thoughts of easy tests transitioned into hard, brain-wracking hours were sometimes Taylor wouldn’t even finish. Times at home now became times in the locker room, where he had learned to appreciate his fellow brothers instead of his family.

Luke, believing Taylor was done, removed his sweaty, sticky foot and leaned over from the desk.

“Get up, buddy,” Luke said, with the words “buddy” and “daddy” dancing in Taylor’s head, “I gotta get yer pants.”

Taylor obliged, not really understanding why as his jeans were pulled down. He hadn’t even noticed Luke had stripped him of his shoes and socks. Luke sat back down and ripped off his old socks too, leaving the pair in only their underwear.

“Alright, you can sit back down,” Luke said, and Taylor followed, “time for you to clean Daddy’s pits.”

Luke got up and sat on the edge of Taylor’s almost naked lap. The powerful alpha was barely held up by the aspiring student, but neither of them cared. Luke then took Taylor’s head and guided it towards a dark, furry armpit, letting him sniff away. The scent was just as powerful as the first two, but this one had a lot more hair. The soft fur coated Taylor face with sweat, making him even more lightheaded.

Following were Taylor’s arms, which inflated with each eager sniff. Biceps and triceps began to appear as powerful tendons emerged. Beef and brawn were packed on to the appendages as all dark hairs began to disappear to a lighter coat. Wrists inflated as Taylor’s hands became much larger, filled with meat. He now had the paws of a man, instead of the hands of a nerd. The once skinny arms now looked to be more like those of a gym rat. His armpits also lost most of their hair, now creating wispy, but much more potent, bushes.

Taylor coughed, the scent from the pit being so immense. He couldn’t comprehend the life that he had once planned out for himself. The plans of becoming a doctor, inheriting his parents fortunes, creating a stable foundation all fell out from beneath his feet. As the year of sports and passing C’s filled his head, he remember the new scholarships. Paths for the future were now made from pigskin and spandex rather than paper. Taylor didn’t have a promising future in academics, but he definitely did in sports.

Luke slowly pulled back, noticing Taylor leaning forward while the pit moved away. Luke smiled and got back up. Taylor moaned in disorientation as Luke slowly pulled of his jock. As he did, a huge cock flopped out, the biggest that Taylor had ever seen. It was a thick as a can and it was incredibly long, standing at a proud 10 inches The balls were just as impressive, both the size of tennis balls and covered in an animal-like fur. They definitely produced a hefty amount of man-milk.

While Taylor admired Luke’s package, he carefully placed his grimy jockstrap over Taylor’s face, lining up the pouch with his nose and mouth. Once he had secured it, he sat back down on the desk and place his feet on Taylor’s crotch, slowly bringing him to full mast. He wasn’t going to let him blow just yet, he had to edge Taylor first.

Fourth was Taylor’s feet, which were rapidly changing as he sniffed and licked away at the vulgar jockstrap. His once pristine Size 9 feet began to bloat, his naked toes pushing out against the cheap trailer carpet. The once lean feet became meaty as years of running and stomping replaced those of strolling and dance. Light hairs appeared as the toenails became rigid and dirty, looking more like those of a construction worker than those of a rich boy. Once the feet reached a promising Size 15, they began to emit their own obnoxious funk, one that would never be washed away.

Taylor didn’t realize it, but he was slightly enjoying the disgusting pouch in his face. He also didn’t realize that his heterosexuality was slipping away. Many girlfriends became many boyfriends, topping men rather than women. A strong love for penis replaced that of boobs, while the thought of being in the strong arms of a man aroused him more than being those arms for a woman. His bros were no longer just bros, as countless pictures of brojobs and “lending a hand” replaced conquering a fair share of women. Homosexuality slowly took the front seat as heterosexuality left, never to return again.

“You’ve been really good so far, son,” Luke said, the word “son” joining with the others. Like got up and removed the jockstrap, “I think it’s time that Daddy gave you a treat.”

Taylor looked up adoringly at the sexy alpha in front of him, not knowing what to expect. Luke grabbed his dick and - after grunting a bit - let loose a hot, steamy stream of yellow piss. It his Taylor right in the face.

“Drink up!” Luke said, aiming right for the mouth, “It’s gonna be part of yer diet.”

Taylor instantly obeyed, trying to get every drop into his mouth.

As the piss flooded his throat and stomach, his head and neck began to adapt. A sharp collar bone pushed its way out as his neck thickened, giving him access to a widening, deepening Adam’s apple. As his register lowered into that of a base, his face began to shift as well, becoming a younger version of Luke’s. Taylor’s face became squarer as his hair shortened, lightening into the proper sandy blond. His lips became larger as his eyes adapter a duller gray tone. His nose straightened while his skull became bigger and his brain became smaller. The A light stubble grew in, one day to hold the same beard of Luke’s size.Taylor’s chin jutted out, creating a larger jaw and a natural dumb guffaw tone to his voice.

The yellow piss flooded Taylor’s system, enveloping him in a warm aura. He couldn’t feel his intelligence being boiled away, the urine eroding away the little left inside Taylor’s head. Memories of sports scholarships passed away as C’s faded into D’s and F’s. Graduation became a joke as Taylor began to remember dropping out of high school. Time at school became time at numerous construction sites, finding the bros who really understood him. The last bits of his old family and friends melted away as the new reality began to firm.

The last drops slowly fell and soon there was nothing left from Luke’s bladder. Knowing it was time to wrap things up, he grabbed Taylor and threw him on his knees.

“Time for Daddy to show you where we get the family name - what a Johnson’s made of.”

Before Taylor could react, Luke’s colossal dick was shoved in his mouth and down his throat. Luke wasn’t a patient man, but Taylor had never sucked a dick before. He immediately sputtered and began to choke, but Luke quickly readjusted. Taylor sucked and quickly got the hang of it. Not only was he a natural, but not many professionals could even handle Luke’s size. He couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed.

The last bits of Taylor changed as the furry oranges Luke called testicles hit against Taylor’s chin. Taylor’s dick slowly began to enlarge, the once erect 6 incher beginning to stand taller. As it rose to new heights, his balls also began to change, growing from average to extra large. His butt plumped up as his cheeks filled with solid meat. Light hairs replaced the dark pubes as his cock thickened, reaching 9 inches of pure masculinity and looking almost as thick as Luke’s. He was meant to be an alpha, but just below this one man. His balls churned as he felt Luke getting close.

While Taylor became more and more skilled at the art of cocksucking, he hadn’t realized that his balls were churning with the remaining memories of his former life. He now felt a certain kinship to this man, almost as if he was his own father. The more Taylor dwelled on the subject however, the more he remembered Luke as a father figure. He had helped lead him to construction, show him it was best to be blue collar, made him realize that each bro was there to help him - or be helped by him. But Luke was more than just a father figure, he WAS his father. His earliest memories were filled with his dad. Showing him how to ride a bike, catching his first fish, helping him shave. He also showed him how fathers and sons were to always be naked with each other, how the son would deepthroat his own father when needed, how he was only allowed to act and wear what his father wanted him to.

As Luke approached the climax, Taylor’s body twitched violently. It was barely noticeable, but Taylor had just gained an extra five years to his age. His body had barely matured, his muscles were a little firmer, and his hairline slightly receded, but otherwise he still looked like the proud son of his amazing father.

Luke shouted as he violently came, semen rushing down Taylor’s throat right down into his balls. His own cum was instantly pushed out, being evicted by the superior seed of his father. Taylor ejaculated, completely ridding himself of his old life and reality. Taylor Stenson soaked into the cheap carpet, never to be seen again.

As soon as the two had gotten over their post-ejaculation high, the father and son cleaned up the trailer to get back to work.

“Crap!” Luke shouted.

“What?”

“I don’t have any extra clothes here besides these shorts.” Luke held up a pair of basketball shorts. They had definitely been used and worn many times. “You’ll have to wear these until we get to the warehouse.”

“Sounds rad, daddy,” the son said, walking over and grabbing the shorts. Luke himself was going to be rather exposed, wearing only an old pair of cargo shorts and large sneakers. The original outfit was used to clean up his son’s cum.

While the son placed the shorts over his naked body, he felt his father grind him from behind. His father’s bare chest felt so sensual against his own. The cargo shorts did nothing to hide his father’s erection.

“Can’t wait to see what ya look like in a safety vest,” Luke whispered, his beard caressing his son’s face. The two quickly made their way out of the trailer and walked two the other side of the development. As the son walked ahead, Luke could only smile: he was so incredibly proud. He couldn’t believe how perfectly he had turned out.

“Hey, son,” Luke said, causing the other man to turn around, “show me where the family name comes from.” The son smirked cockily.

“Johnson?” he asked innocently.

“Yes.”

“Well, there’s a Johnson here,” the son pointed to his left pec

“Yeah?”

“A Johnson here,” he then pointed to his right pec.

“Wow!”

“And a lot of Johnsons right here.” The son pointed at each of his abs.

“So hot!”

“And the best Johnson here!” he pulled down his shorts quickly to show his erect dick. His father applauded him before the son pulled his shorts back up and struck a confident pose.

“Wow, you’ll make a fine Johnson indeed!” His father said before the two continued.

— —

Once they made it to the warehouse, Luke quickly dressed his son up. The proper safety vest, toll belt, old jeans, giant boots, and a large hard hat to fit his giant, but empty, head. Once he was suited up, the father jumped on a crane to get back to work.

“See you at 8, son!” He shouted, “Yer gonna show me what a Johnson’s made of.”

Luke drove off, leaving the son there on his own. As soon as his father was out of sight, another construction worker came into the warehouse. He was hairy, dumb, and extremely sexy.

“Hey, I’m Harvey,” he said, he deep voice rumbling

“Travis,” the son replied.

“While ya wait for him,” Harvey started, referring to Luke, “ya wanna show me what a Johnson’s made of?”

“I’ll tell you it starts right here,” Travis said, pulling back his safety vest to show Harvey his chest. Travis knew the furst Johnsons were good, but he knew Harvery would think the last one was the best.

A day at the beach

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

--- Note: Kyogre (Pokémon) TF ---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The human gulped. "Peter. And yours?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Stay with you in what way" Peter smirked

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

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

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

He smiled and hugged her back, nuzzling her face softly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She sighed. "Welcome home"

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

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

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

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

"What's that?" He smirked

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

New Policeman

this is my first story, I hope you like it, if you see any mistake or something to improve don't hesitate to comment it, thanks.

-----

Niko didn't know how he had ended up in this situation.

 Everything was rather confusing.

He was at the Edgewood police station in Florida, in a room with several soundproof panels scattered around, though not so many as to resemble a recording booth, but enough to isolate the noise. The room contained only a two-legged white table and black acrylic conference chairs on either side.

It resembled a movie interrogation scene, with the only difference being the lights. Instead of a table lamp used to shine directly in his face when the officer demanded answers, there was, fortunately for him, a ceiling fan circulating the air in the room.

Niko began to recall everything that had led him to this situation. He had initially been at Fuego Night Club, having a good time. Niko couldn't help but think of Rosalina, although her real name was Anya. The nickname came from her appearance: a woman in her early twenties with blonde hair tied in a high ponytail, a white T-shirt, and black (or dark blue, he couldn't tell due to the nightclub lighting) shorts, fair skin, and star stickers on her cheeks.

He had been sitting on one of the club's sofas, enjoying himself and not thinking about anything in particular (thanks to the incredibly loud music). He took his plastic cup and took a big sip of his Blue Hawaii, sighing with pleasure. He placed the cup on the table and headed to the dance floor.

He walked with confidence but with enthusiasm, feeling the heat rise due to the rum in her drink. He started moving in tune as a remastered version of Onyra's "The Monster" began, moving his shoulders up and down, raising an arm when the music hit the speakers.

Niko closed his eyes when he decided to let the music take control, like a puppet whose master guided its movements but with some self-control to avoid hitting anyone. He felt the other people on the dance floor bump into him and move around him, several people brushed against his back or arms, but only for a few seconds before they pulled away.

When he opened his eyes, he snapped back to reality, feeling the ecstasy of the music recede, along with his fatigue. He weaved and zigzagged his way through the crowd to exit, and after a while, he was out of the crowd.

When he returned to his area, he sat down and let himself sink into the seat. He looked toward the table where he had left his drink and realized it was no longer there. He scanned the area in case someone had accidentally knocked it over, but it wasn't on the floor.

"Perhaps someone took it," he reasoned. Niko turned his head in both directions, looking at the people in the other seats and checking the drinks they held. But there was no trace of his Blue Hawaii.

He let out an annoyed sigh.

He spun on his heels and headed towards the crowd gathered around the drinks bar. After some maneuvering, as there were other people trying to get drinks or staking out their spots for conversations, which he despised, though he couldn't deny he had done the same before.

He observed one of the bartenders behind the bar. He was young, perhaps in his mid-thirties, Latino (he didn't know from exactly where), short hair and a neatly groomed beard, and brown eyes. He wore the standard uniform, consisting of a black T-shirt and pants. He was serving two beers to a group of patrons and briefly glanced up, probably to check for new customers approaching.

Niko raised his hand to get his attention, and the bartender nodded, approaching him. He announced his order, raising his voice a bit to be heard over the music, but it was audible as the bartender nodded and began preparing the drink.

Niko reached into his pocket, searching for his wallet, and paid with a five-dollar bill. When he took the drink, he took a sip. It was refreshing, followed by the warmth of the rum. He moved back to his spot, but now there was no place to sit because a girl, whom he would later learn was named Estela, was sitting but occupying two seats, leaving enough space on either side but not quite enough for someone (unless they were quite skinny) to sit comfortably.

He approached, leaning toward her, taking her by surprise as she instinctively moved her body back in an attempt to create distance. Although it didn't help much as her body hit the backrest of the seat. Seeing her reaction, Niko stepped back to give her space, trying to convey that he had no ill intentions.

Although it seemed the girl didn't see it that way as she appeared nervous. Niko spoke, hoping the music wasn't too loud to convey his message, informing her that he just wanted to sit.

But it seemed the girl was unwilling to respond, just looking at him, trembling. Niko gave up, turning on his heels and heading toward another section of the nightclub.

After another zigzag through the crowd, he found a spot on the other side of the dance floors, at the opposite end of where his seat was, near the speakers. The loud music drowned out any thoughts, and even laughter and conversations were muffled.

He stood there, enjoying the moment, when someone tapped his shoulder. As he turned, he noticed it was an older man in his late forties, pale skin, worn and plump build, wrinkles on his face, pronounced dark circles, and a fairly prominent receding hairline. He was wearing a light brown shirt and beige pants.

There was another person behind him, a man with black hair, in his thirties, maybe a bit older, with a sturdy build, dressed in a black T-shirt. The attire of a security personnel.

The older man said something, but it couldn't be heard. Niko pointed to his ears, annoyed. In response, he took out his phone, pressed a few keys, and turned the phone to show Niko directly in his face. On the screen, against a black background, probably one of those note-taking apps, was written in white letters,

<Come with us.>

Niko was perplexed by the request. Why would they be calling him? He looked at the man, who then turned and started walking. After a few steps, Niko noticed the security guy standing where he was, staring at him with an expression that made it clear he wouldn't hesitate to restrain him if he didn't follow.

Niko didn't want any trouble, so he followed them.

As they exited the club, they were greeted by a gust of cool air, but Niko noticed two police officers present on the premises. One officer was talking to two girls a few meters away, though it was hard to make out exactly what they were saying. Only one of them was visible, gesticulating quite a bit, while the other was mostly obscured by the officer's figure, with only one of her limbs visible on the side.

The other officer remained by the vehicle, leaning against the passenger door, looking toward the entrance, waiting. When the older man exited, he stepped aside and stood upright. He approached when Niko and the security guard continued. The older man stepped aside, leaving the officer face to face with Niko, who was still confused."

The officer grabbed his arm, the grip firm, and shoved him into the patrol car despite Niko's protests. He raised his head to continue protesting, but the officer was already moving to the other side of the car, making way for passersby who wasted no time in pulling out their phones and began recording, blinding him with the flashlights they had presumably activated for better visibility.

The older man turned and entered the building, closing the door behind him, leaving the security guard at the door, staring at him and with the doors closed.

He heard the driver's side door open, and Niko turned to see the officer.

— This is a mistake. — Niko began, but it seemed the officer had heard those words before, as he said nothing.

— You have to listen to me. — Niko persisted.

But the officer snapped, "Be silent."

The tone he used made it clear he wasn't joking, so Niko obeyed. He could hear the voices of people talking on the street and sensed the seconds passing as camera flashes went off. After a while, almost thirty minutes later, they arrived at the station.

They pulled him out of the vehicle when it stopped. Some officers were coming out of the door. They had taken away all his personal items – house keys, cap, wallet, and consequently his ID card, and his cell phone – and placed them in a tray, which was taken by another officer who headed toward the door they had entered through initially.

The officer took him by the shoulder and led him into a waiting room where he could be observed at all times. It appeared he had company, as there were three people sitting in rows of tables scattered throughout the area, serving as a waiting room, with desks arranged in columns, three by six. Several officers sat at their respective desks, typing or answering calls, while others conversed before looking at some papers. It looked more like a scene from a movie set in an office.

The officer sat him in one of the chairs in the makeshift waiting area. Niko watched him walk away, disappearing around the corner. He remained seated, staring in that direction, waiting to see him return.

— Stand up.

"Heard someone calling, which startled him as he was caught off guard. He centered his attention on the person who had called him, and in front of him stood a woman, dressed like the others. Brown hair, tanned skin, perhaps in her thirties, with a serious expression on her face.

Niko simply obeyed. He didn't know how much time had passed, even though he started counting (he had reached five hundred and fifty-six) and only stopped when he began to feel drowsy out of sheer boredom.

Perhaps an hour passed, although it felt like five to Niko. He felt the door open, and a officer in his late forties, white, with a neatly groomed three-day beard and a pronounced mustache, and brown eyes, appeared. He wore the standard uniform and looked at Niko without showing any expression, approaching the table.

— Stand up.

<<Is this some kind of joke? How many more times are you going to make me stand up?>> Niko complained, but he did as ordered and stood up from the chair.

That's when they led him into this new cinematic room. He waited there for about ten minutes before the door opened again. This time, it wasn't a police officer, and the person wasn't even dressed as an officer. He was wearing a light gray tuxedo.

As if he had done this many times before, he approached the table, took the remaining chair and moved it aside, causing it to screech, and then sat down. He remained silent, staring at Niko as if he were a zoo animal.

He sat like this for what seemed to be ten minutes, although Niko was no longer sure.

— ¿Can I know why I’m here? — Niko finally asked.

The man seemed to smile, although the smile was small.

— Of course you can. — the man said, though his voice was higher-pitched than his appearance suggested. "You overstepped with a girl."

The news took Niko by surprise. Overstepped with a girl? But he didn't even try to talk to anyone... Then, as if it were presenting itself in his mind, the image of the girl he had asked for a seat came to his mind.

— I wasn't overstepping with her; I just asked for the seat— Niko stated.

— We know. Estela already confessed it to us.

Happiness welled up in Niko, and it was evident in the smile on his face.

— ¿So, can I go back home then? — Niko didn't hide his happiness.

The man in the suit let out a disappointed sigh.

— It's not as simple as that.

The smile vanished from Niko's face.

— But you said...

— I know what I said. — the man in the suit interrupted. — But did you think about what people saw?

Niko shook his head. Now that he thought about it, he was right. Not only had people seen him in the patrol car, but the officer had also turned to face the onlookers.

— Exactly. — the man in the suit continued, raising his index finger. — The evidence might disappear, but people have probably already shared your face on social media.

Niko hadn't thought about that either.

— Which means. — the man in the suit went on. — anyone who recognizes you, whether they were inside the nightclub or in the waiting room, will spell serious trouble for you.

Niko brought his hands to his head, looking down at the table. It felt like his world was falling apart.

— But don't worry; it's not the end of the world. — the man said reassuringly.

Niko looked up but didn't remove his hands from his head.

— We can give you a new life.

That didn't sound entirely certain, as if he could wave a magic wand and make the incident disappear from people's memories.

— What about the videos? — Niko asked.

— We'll make them disappear. — the stranger replied.

The stranger turned the page on the table without taking his eyes off Niko and then slid it in front of him.

Niko glanced at the paper, not paying much attention as the man took a pen from his pocket and placed it on the table. Written on the sheet was a declaration that Mr. Niko Lingray allowed the Florida Supreme Court to take responsibility for providing him with accommodation and enough money to subsist, in exchange for working a thirty-six-hour weekly schedule for an annual salary of seventy-five thousand dollars.

And below are several clauses, with the first one stating that you cannot engage in a second job. You must fulfill your duties and possess the necessary skills to perform them," the man explained.

— Is any of this legal? — Niko asked.

The man leaned his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together, still smiling.

— Of course, it is. You're applying for a job.

Niko felt that the situation was far from just a job application. But thinking about the situation, he didn't have many options. He could refuse, but just walking down the street and having people stare at him as if he were dangerous, and knowing that he might be hounded by people without any decency asking why he did what he did, wasn't a life worth living.

Niko gave in. He knew he didn't have a better way out of the situation. He picked up the pen from the table and began signing the paper. His signature consisted of his name written in cursive, with the 'N' in uppercase, curving into a serpentine pattern that connected with the 'I'.

The man in the suit took the paper, rose from his chair with a grating noise, and left the room. The door closed behind him. Now alone, Niko began to contemplate the situation he was in. So much had happened in just one day, and fatigue was catching up to him. He just wanted this to be over soon.

Niko waited and felt the room getting warmer. He sensed the gusts of air from the fan, but they had turned warm, adding to the heat. He waved his hand, trying to fan himself, but it didn't seem to work. He wondered if he was getting sick. He planned to ask the man in the suit if they could check on him or give him something for the discomfort.

Niko felt drops of sweat forming on his forehead and removed his cap, tossing it on the table. He wiped his forehead with his hand, not realizing that the area he touched began to take on a bronzed tone.

As he lowered his hand, he felt an itching sensation, as if it had fallen asleep. He began shaking it to get rid of the feeling, but without success. He opened and closed his hand to regain feeling, but that didn't seem to work either. He looked at his hand to see what was happening.

With horror, Niko watched as the veins on his hand bulged and moved as if they were snakes, slithering and extending down his arm.

He felt a tightness in his arm, as if someone were pulling it, as if it were about to be torn off. He raised both hands, placing them in front of his eyes, trying to convince himself that he wasn't seeing what he was seeing.

With horror, he realized that he wasn't hallucinating. It was clear that his right arm had elongated and was now much longer than his left, with his sleeve revealing the extended half of his arm, unlike the other. It was accompanied by a thick mass of black hair.

He looked at both hands, alternating between palm and back, inadvertently hitting the table due to the newfound length of his arms. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing, trying to convince himself that it was an illusion, but a part of him knew that wasn't the case, and he needed to call one of the officers.

He glanced at the door, screaming for help, waiting impatiently for someone to hear him. He felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder. He grabbed it tightly in an attempt to alleviate the pain, although Niko didn't notice that his shoulder was expanding and becoming quite prominent.

The burning sensation in his other hand began, and he knew what would happen next. He had to get up and show the officers what was happening. He rose from the chair, letting it drop with a horrible noise. He approached the exit, gripped the doorknob, but it wouldn't open.

Niko looked perplexed at the door, wondering why it was locked when he knew it had no lock. He hadn't heard the sound of a door being locked. He began pounding on it, begging to be let out, resisting the pulling sensation in his arm. He struck it once, twice, thrice... eight times with force, but the door wouldn't budge, and his hand hurt from the impact.

Then, the pain intensified. He thought he might have dislocated a joint in his hand from the pounding. He leaned his head against the door for support, examining his hand to assess the damage. He noticed that the top of his index finger was swollen, doubling in thickness compared to the others.

He cried out for help again, but no one seemed to hear him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He exhaled and inhaled again, attempting to manage the pain. It seemed to work, as the pain became more bearable.

Crack.

Crack.

Two more cracks followed. He howled in agony, throwing his head back. He examined his hand, thinking he had broken a finger. But as he looked at it, he saw that there was nothing visibly wrong, oblivious to the fact that the palm of his hand had become wider.

And as if a switch had been flipped, the sound of his fingers breaking became audible. Each finger started to elongate and thicken, resembling sausages, filling and forming a large, fleshy hand. His skin tightened, hardened, and formed calluses. Niko's eyes welled up with tears due to the excruciating pain.

The pain extended up his arm, and his skin began to ripple, resembling boiling water. With each ripple, his arm expanded, filling the muscles and creating strong biceps that burst through his shirt, tearing the fabric apart. Niko felt the weight unbalancing him, and he struggled to hold himself up until he couldn't bear it anymore, collapsing to the floor, his chin and knees hitting the ground with force as he cried out in pain.

Sweat had accumulated on his forehead and began to roll down his face, forming small puddles on the floor. Niko threw his head back in an attempt to suppress the pain, but it only spread to his chest. Unbeknownst to him, his pectoral muscles began to expand, pushing against his shirt. As his back arched and stretched like a candy cane, his shirt and jacket failed to cover his entire body, leaving his stomach exposed.

A tickling sensation in his throat intensified, causing him to cough uncontrollably. With each cough, his voice grew deeper, and the Adam's apple was pushed outward even more than it already was.

Crack.

Another crack echoed through the room, eliciting another scream. Niko brought his hands to his face, attempting to pull at his skin in a futile attempt to relieve the pain, but it was in vain. Unbeknownst to him, his jaw had retracted, making his chin more prominent. A tingling sensation filled his face as the hairs of his beard, especially on his chin, began to pull. As they grew, they tugged at the skin. The same happened with his eyebrows, which, though prominent, grew even thicker. His nose lengthened, and his skin stretched, leaving traces of exhaustion on his face, making him appear more mature.

Niko stumbled, barely managing to hold onto the table as his legs threatened to give way due to the excessive weight of his new body. Amidst the staggering, he observed how his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, with droplets sliding down his body and falling to the floor. He moved his hand, noticing how the sweat glistened in the light.

Sweat continued to slide, depositing itself in his eyes, causing a stinging sensation. He rubbed his eyes desperately, unaware that the bluish color of his eyes was starting to darken, turning them into a dark brown.

Sweat now covered his entire body, leaving clear stains on the remaining clothes. One of the affected areas was his legs, which began to swell with muscle, tearing the fabric as it stretched with each passing second until it finally ripped open, leaving his jeans looking like extremely tight shorts.

He groaned as he felt his feet being constricted, as they had elongated to the point where they pressed against the shoe's rubber and leather. He clenched his fists in a desperate hope that the transformation would stop, fearing that his fingers would break as they were pushed against the sole of his shoes.

It seemed that his wish was granted as he started to hear the fabric tearing. He sighed in relief as each toe punctured through the material, emerging from the shoe's insole, allowing him to feel the coldness of the floor beneath him.

But something Nick didn't know was that with each breath, his memories were beginning to fade, leaving behind traces of his life, family, and studies. They were all melting away, dripping like an ice cream in the sun, sliding down to his balls. Where, upon feeling the extra load, he felt a blow to his testicles. As his thoughts emptied, he felt a sharp pressure as if someone were driving needles into his head. He pressed his forehead with both hands, but to no avail. Amidst several camera flashes, resembling scenes from an old movie, new memories emerged. Yet, upon reflection, he knew they were scenes from his own life.

He remembered being raised by his parents in a house in Silver Spring, completing his studies, and asking his father to enroll him in a gym, explaining his desire to become an officer, much like in the TV series "Blue Bloods." He recalled the time and dedication he had put into the tests, as well as the celebration that followed when his commanding officer handed him the paper stating he would work at the Edgewood police station for 14 years. He could still feel how his boss had called him just twenty minutes ago, informing him that he needed to return to the police station. When he inquired further about the order, his boss had mentioned that a member of the Department of Justice wanted to speak with him.

Niko took deep breaths to alleviate his fatigue, detecting a bitter, acrid sensation in the air. It was his sweat, which surprised him as he used deodorant every day. He raised his arm, wincing due to sore muscles, but as he brought it up, his armpit seemed as usual, with no excess hair. However, the odor was strong, as if even deodorant couldn't conceal it.

His crotch shoots forward, as if someone is pulling on an invisible rope. With each tug it slides down his thigh. Pulling and pulling, growing in size. Sliding down the side of his briefs, getting tight against his thigh like a fishing net.

Nick looked down as he watched his member grow inch by inch, leaving it at 7 inches. He moaned, because the fabric of the briefs was squeezing tightly. Nick arched his back as he felt a squeeze in his lower back, similar to someone squeezing his butt cheeks, contracting them. With each contraction, the buttocks became firmer and firmer, and consequently more prominent. Pulling at the fabric of the briefs, squeezing his member tighter, which elicited a moan. In an act of release, Nick tried to remove his underpants, which already looked like a thong because of how constricted they were. But he couldn't, he couldn't even get his fingertips in, so he pinched them, though also pricking his skin in the process. Stretching the fabric enough to get his fingers in, and in one motion he had removed them.

The heat seemed to subside, leaving him gasping for breath at the bad moment he was experiencing, though it seemed to focus on his crotch.He grabbed the chair that fell to the floor and sat down, grabbed his member and began to grope it.After a few seconds, his body began to spasm, as his member shot its load and with it, everything that represented Niko.

The door opens, and Nick turns to see the man in the suit returning, holding a uniform in one arm against his chest and a set of papers in his hand, presumably to keep the other arm free. Nick gets up from the chair, ignoring the drops still dripping from the tip of his member.

— Welcome aboard, Officer Mayers. — the man comments as he sees Nick standing. He offers a smile and extends the set of clothing.

Nick nods in response and accepts the outfit, laying it on the table. He searches through it until he finds a pair of boxer shorts. But then he remembers.

He looks over his shoulder at the man in the suit, indicating for him to leave the room so he can change. He's relieved to find that the man is standing with his back to him, which he appreciates.

With that, he begins to dress, starting with the boxer shorts.

— While you get ready, — the man in the suit announces, the sound of papers rustling. — I'll inform you of your new workplace and responsibilities.

Nick wanted to tell him that it wouldn't be necessary, as his only missions were to protect civilians and punish criminals. But he can only hope that he won't have to deal with paperwork.

After ten minutes of explanation, the man in the suit left the papers on the table, informing Nick that all the information he needed was there.

— It's a pleasure to begin, sir... — Nick left the sentence hanging as he didn't know the man's name.

— You can call me Vincent. — the man in the suit replied.

Nick nodded, and Vincent gestured towards the door, proceeding to leave the room. He returned to the office area where everyone seemed to be engrossed in their work. However, there were now two new faces in the waiting section.

Meanwhile, Nick continued walking towards the exit. If only he had looked back, he would have noticed that the man in the suit was still in the room, holding the door and then closing it. The door began to vanish, merging with the wall and disappearing as if it had never existed.

The early morning air was refreshing as Nick left the police station, crossing the parking lot to reach his Toyota Tundra. He took out his keys, started the engine, and left the parking lot to head home and rest. He needed to be as well-rested as possible because he had a lot of work to do with the move.

--- Originally posted on 2023-08-16 by shapedbydesire (breedertfs)

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

Shady Unit

ϟ gay to straight tf, muscle growth, cop tf, forced tf, changed by surroundings, mental tf, reality tf, breeder/conservative tf

Peyton accepted his friends' dare against his better judgment; the gaggle of gays had been walking home from their early morning brunch, mimosas fizzling inside their dizzy heads, when they noticed the parked cop car with a wide open door. No pigs in sight, only an abandoned police unit just begging them to come over and snoop around. "Ohhh my god, you have got to let us take a picture with you sitting in the driver's seat, Peyton! That would be so funny!" This made the boy in question frown, blonde curls hanging in his face and obscuring his narrowed, baby blue eyes. Looking at the group, the least straight OR cop passing of the whole bunch would be Peyton, the twink runt, so that just made his friends laugh louder at the thought and push him closer to the unguarded vehicle. "Come on, Peyton, do it! You've got this!"

Making sure once more that the coast was clear, he decided that there was no harm in it. All he had to do was run over, strike a cute pose, and then get the fuck out and go home! He marched his way over, struggling a bit as he pulled the heavy, solid door a little further away so that he could squeeze inside, and then he turned to smile at his friends with flushed cheeks, hands lifted up in a double thumbs up pose. It was just a shame that the car door slammed shut before his buddies could snap their pictures, a faint murmur of gasps and sounds of confusion behind the thick shell of steel as Peyton found himself trapped and silenced within the car, panic rising in his system as he tried and failed to get the door to budge as he pressed and yanked trying to open it. All to no avail.

That was when he heard the rustling on the dashboard, the bulky pair of black sunglasses rattling in place, as if charged with energy and about to combust. He was staring at them in shock and fear when they suddenly leaped forward, opening their hinges and sliding right onto his frightened face, covering his shocked vision in a shield of dim, repressed light. Honestly, the jumping object would have been the most frightening part, if not for the pain that suddenly flared in the space between his temples. He gasped out in pain, muscles tensing, spine locking in place as shocks began to pulse through his body.

Little thoughts began to dance with his begs for mercy, his brain was a battlefield of trying to rationalize what was happening to him, and trying to ignore the presence that was steadily making itself known inside of himself. Another man's casual thoughts were overlapping his own, overpowering them. "Fuck, I can't wait for this shift to be over so I get home to my girl." Peyton grimaced, another shock rolling through him, his jaw stinging as it cracked outward into a chiseled, strong, pitch black stubbled line. The twink was confused and alarmed to hear this gruff voice speaking, especially one that gave a shit about getting home to a girl.

He reached up to pull the glasses off, trying to exert control over his spasming limbs, but then he could feel the muscles in his arms tearing apart and stitching themselves back together in an instant, his spindly arms vibrating in the air as suddenly they ballooned out into firm, solid, vascular biceps that were swollen with raw strength. Except now they were forced into a double bicep pose and no longer reaching for the glasses still trapped on his head.

"Fuccck, I just want to get home and flood her cunt. The good book says to be fruitful and multiply, my only purpose in life is to be a traditional man, to fulfill my duty as a male," the low, bovine voice kept talking despite Peyton's inner protests, his newly large and calloused hand reaching down to cup his bulge, lithe fingers fattening into sausages. His rough fingertips could feel a different and more durable fabric where his mesh shorts had once been. But that all paled in comparison to the heat radiating from his crotch, the trembling of his little nub cock as it began to engorge, fattening into a thick, girthy, vein covered shaft.

His cock head flared out into a large purple mushroom that was already leaking pre into his tight and sweaty boxers, a sun kissed hue washing across his pasty skin with every twitch of his bulking up body. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. His firm jaw itched as black, wiry beard hairs burst through the coarse skin, making look him manly and intimidating. His blonde curls retracted into a dark black, traditional cut.

With what little control he could muster, he reached up to the driver's side mirror, pulling down the flap and gasping in absolute shock. Or at least he meant to, but now his permanently fixed cocky smirk could only speak with the same voice that was inside his head. "Fuck, I look clean as shit! My bitch is gonna be dripping all over my cock all night long." He watched clear as day as his now douchey, older, masculine face moved on its own accord, speaking without his say in the same dumb, harsh, jock voice he had heard earlier. Now looking at himself in the reflection, unable to control the posing body of the conceited bodybuilder cop he was trapped within, he could see what had become of his clothes. His little rainbow buttons and badges were now deadly gear strapped to his vest and belt, and his cute outfit was now a traditional and crisp police uniform.

Nothing that made up Peyton was left once that door slammed shut, leaving behind a smug and newly minted Officer Dickson sitting inside his very own unit. Flipping on the siren lights, he popped open the car door with a casual lean of his bulky body, Peyton wailing inside his mental prison at the sight of his former friends. This was their idea, and they needed to help him! He just wanted to be set free, safe to go home and far away from this awful, backwards minded brain his essence had now been shoved into.

But the massive man only sneered and glared at the group of fairies behind his dark black, emotionless lenses. "Clear the fuck out, or I'll take you all in for processing." He was okay watching them sprint to run away, vowing to deal with their presence another day. As much as he loved bringing alpha men into this world by changing gay men to serve the police unit, repurposed to better suit traditional society, he would always have a fondness of doing it the old fashioned way. And his wife was certainly gonna end up inflated with a few alpha sons in her belly once he was finished with her tonight. Peyton would just have to get used to the countless flashes of bouncing tits and squirting pussies inside his new cage. Officer Dickson wasn't going to change his mindset for anyone, let alone the skinny little queer he didn't even remember being.

Uber Frat

Tom had driven this route a hundred times before. The streets near the university were alive with students barhopping, loud music booming from nearby frat houses. His Uber beeped as a new ride request came in from Delta Sigma Gamma, one of the more notorious frats, known for their cocky jocks and constant partying. He sighed, not particularly excited about the prospect of dealing with another drunk frat boy.

The rider’s name popped up on his phone: Ryan.

"Another one of these guys," Tom muttered to himself, already dreading the ride. At thirty-five, Tom was happy with his life. He was engaged to Sarah, his high school sweet heart, and they were planning their wedding. Driving Uber was just a way to save up a little extra for the wedding. He was a simple guy; routine, stability, and a future with Sarah. He had no interest in wild parties or the frat life he’d never had.

When he pulled up to the massive Delta Sigma house, a shirtless, muscular figure stumbled out, carrying the telltale swagger of someone who had downed far too many beers. Ryan was massive, broad-shouldered, thick arms, chest bursting out of his soaked tank top. His feet dragged a little as he approached the car, and when he opened the door, the powerful stench of sweat and musk hit Tom like a truck.

Ryan collapsed into the backseat, reeking of alcohol, but worse than that, his scent was overpowering, the smell of sweat-soaked skin and dirty gym socks filling the car immediately. Tom gagged but tried to keep it under control.

“Yo, driver!” Ryan slurred, kicking off his sneakers without a care and slapping his socked feet right between the two front seats on the arm rest “Take me to the next bar, bro.”

“Uh, can you put your feet down?” Tom asked, his voice tight with irritation.

Ryan didn’t even glance at him, wiggling his toes lazily. “Nah, man, you’ll get used to it. Just like everyone else. This is how it is when you’re part of the brotherhood.” His voice was thick with drunken confidence, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

“Look, man, I’m just trying to do my job,” Tom said, irritation rising as the smell intensified, like sour sweat and musk combining to form something nearly tangible.

Ryan chuckled, the sound low and mocking. “You think you’re better than us, huh? Driving your Uber, going back to your little pathetic, boring life, playing it all straight and safe. You don’t even know what you’re missing, bro.”

Tom glanced in the rearview mirror, trying to keep his temper in check. “I’m just trying to get you where you need to go.”

Ryan leaned forward; his eyes gleaming. “Yeah, well, maybe where you need to go isn’t where you think. You ever think about that? You’re just waiting for someone to show you the way.”

Before Tom could respond, Ryan started to laugh under his breath, a weird sound emitting from his mouth. The air in the car shifted, growing thick, almost suffocating. Tom felt his heart rate spike as a sudden, intense heat spread through his body, followed by a strange tingling sensation.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tom snapped, panic rising as his muscles began to twitch uncontrollably.

Ryan smirked. “Don’t worry, bro. You’re about to find out what it’s like to really live.”

Tom’s breath caught in his throat as the tingling spread, intensifying into sharp, searing pain. His body felt like it was on fire from the inside out, muscles spasming and bones popping. His hands, gripping the steering wheel tightly, began to thicken before his very eyes. His fingers lengthened, widening as his palms became rough and calloused, swelling with new, brute strength.

“No… what’s happening?” Tom gasped, watching in horror as his forearms bulged, veins popping out against his skin. His arms were growing, muscle piling onto muscle, forcing his sleeves to stretch tight against his biceps and forearms.

Ryan leaned back, grinning. “It’s starting, bro. You’re just getting jacked like the rest of us.”

Tom could feel his chest expanding, pecs pushing out as his once-slender frame grew broader and wider. His shirt strained against the sheer bulk of his chest, the fabric barely able to contain the growing mass of muscle beneath it. His ribs cracked, reforming to accommodate the new size of his upper body.

With a groan of agony, Tom’s spine elongated, forcing him to hunch forward in the seat as his height shot up. His back rippled with new muscle, his shoulders broadening into massive slabs of strength. The pain was unbearable, every bone in his body felt like it was being stretched and reshaped.

“Stop! Please, stop!” Tom begged, his voice shaky with fear, but his words only made Ryan grin wider.

“Why stop, bro? You’re looking real good now. Imagine how much the boys are gonna love you.” Said Ryan as he wiggled his toes.

Tom’s legs began to throb, his thighs thickening, swelling with raw power. His jeans ripped at the seams, unable to contain the bulging muscles that pushed outward. His calves, once average, now bulged with definition, covered in a layer of thick, coarse hair that sprouted up his legs, across his thighs, and up to his groin.

He felt a strange tug in his groin, and his breath hitched as his penis twitched, growing harder, swelling in size. His balls, once normal-sized, ballooned larger, filling with an almost unbearable pressure. The musk of Ryan’s feet, the overpowering scent that had once repelled him, now seemed intoxicating, and Tom could feel a growing hunger building in his chest.

“No… this isn’t me. This can’t be happening,” Tom whispered, his voice deepening, taking on a more masculine, gruff tone.

Ryan wiggled his toes again and crossed his feet, brushing Tom’s forearm along the way “Oh, it’s happening, bro. You’re gonna be just like the rest of us. You’re gonna love being with your bros. Trust me, man, it’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Tom’s mind screamed in protest, but his body continued to betray him. The hair follicles on his chest started to burn as Tom saw in the reflection of the mirror that his faint dark brown hair was turning clearer, taking a golden hue, almost disappearing in his skin. He saw the same happening in his armpits as they grew thicker and denser there. The scent of his own sweat mixed with Ryan’s musk, creating an overwhelming cocktail of testosterone that filled the car.

His abs rippled beneath his torn shirt, each muscle growing more defined until his midsection was a solid, chiseled six-pack. His body was drenched in sweat, the salty tang of it filling the air, and to his horror, Tom realized he didn’t hate the smell. He liked it. He craved it.

His face contorted in pain as his jawline shifted, becoming squarer and more pronounced. His cheekbones sharpened, his nose slightly thickened, and his brow became more prominent. His once-neatly dark brown trimmed hair grew wilder, curlier, messier style that looked perfect for a frat bro.

But the worst was yet to come. Tom’s groin pulsed with heat, his penis swelling to an obscene size. His balls hung low, filled with a primal need, a hunger for something more. His underwear strained to contain the sheer mass of his manhood, and Tom could feel his arousal building, stronger, hotter, and more insistent than anything he had ever experienced.

“No… no…” Tom moaned, but it wasn’t just the size that scared him. It was the desire. The growing lust, not for women, but for men, his bros. The idea of being surrounded by them, feeling their bodies pressed against his, touching, tasting, servicing them, it sent waves of unwanted pleasure through him as he was trying to restraint those foreign pulsion. Tom turned his head back to throw a look of pleading to Ryan, but the only thing he saw between his locks of curly blonde hair was Ryan gripping his own groin through his jeans while licking his lips looking at him.

Inside his mind, Tom was screaming, fighting to hold onto his old self, but his body was changing too fast, too much. His cock twitched, a bead of precum forming at the tip, staining the inside of his underwear turned into a kaki speedo. His new, massive muscles tensed, and every part of him screamed for release.

Ryan watched him struggle, a grin of satisfaction on his face. “You’re almost there, bro. You feel it, don’t you? You need to let go. Just blow it in your speedo, man, and it’ll all be over. You’ll be one of us.”

Tom’s mind rebelled, but his body was beyond his control. The overwhelming musk, the power coursing through his muscles, the heat in his groin, it was too much. He could feel his balls tighten, his cock throb, and his heart race as the tension built inside him.

“Come on, bro, I gave you a chance to really enjoy this all. Way too long…” Ryan urged, his voice low and commanding. “Fuck it, you wanted this. CUM!”

With a shuddering gasp, Tom’s body obeyed. His cock spasmed, and with a grunt of pure, animalistic pleasure, he came hard, his seed spilling into his speedo in a hot, sticky mess. The sensation was overwhelming, waves of ecstasy crashing through his entire body. His muscles flexed, his heart pounded, and his new frat bro self-emerged in full force. As the orgasm was subsiding, Tom’s clothes torn clothes started to vanish into pure manly musk, evaporating straight from his body and pushing the musk in the car even further. Tom stood there, his new kaki speedo damp with his cum. The outline of his huge cock still visible in the dampness of the tissue. Tom trying to find his breath as Ryan was still boringly stroking his cock and riding the hangover of alcohol and musk.

Tom’s conversion was complete, his body now entirely foreign to him, yet every part of it felt strong, powerful, and, worst of all, desperately needy. His new muscular frame was drenched in sweat, his speedo sticky and soaked with his release. His broad chest heaved, the musky scent of his own sweat mingled with the fresh cum soaking his crotch, the stench filling the car.

Tom opened his eyes after a while when his brain could connect the information around him. He tried to move to take a look but to his surprise he couldn’t do anything. IT was like he was frozen on his car seat. As he started to panic, Tom heard Ryan’s voice from behind him as he felt hands on his muscled sweaty shoulders. “I told you you should have let it go and accept it. But no, you had to fight… I’m sorry bro, but if you had accepted the changes, your soul would have been assimilated. Now you’ll have to live your life from the passenger seat. Too bad for a driver to be a passenger of his own life.” Inside, Tom was screaming in pure, abject horror. He could still feel everything, the slick wetness in his shorts, the stench of his own musk, and the weight of his massive muscles. But it was like he had been shoved into a tiny corner of his own brain, trapped as a mere observer while his new frat bro body had taken full control. He could see, hear, and feel, but he was no longer in command. “See? You should have accepted way earlier Tom, or should I call you Carter!”

Ryan leaned forward, inspecting his handiwork, and laughed. “Oh yeah, bro. You’re one of us now. Look at you—fucking perfect. Just wait until the other guys get a load of you.”

Tom wanted to scream, to shout at Ryan, but his body refused to respond. Instead, his lips parted into a cocky grin, and his voice, deep and full of arrogance, spoke words that Tom didn’t want to say. “Hell yeah, man. I’m ready. Let’s fucking go.”

Inside, Tom’s soul wept. He tried to fight, to claw his way back to control, but the frat bro instincts that now filled his brain were stronger, overpowering his old self. He couldn’t stop the way his muscles flexed instinctively, couldn’t stop the pulse of desire that rushed through him at the thought of being with his bros, couldn’t stop the way his cock throbbed with excitement at the idea of being used by them.

Ryan clapped him on the back, his grin wide. “That’s the spirit, bro. Let’s head back to the house, just got a text from Cassidy and she cancelled our date. That’s okay though, looks like our brand-new slut just arrived. The guys are gonna fucking love you.”

Carter shifted in the seat, his large, muscular frame barely fitting in the compact space now. His legs stretched out, thick thighs brushing against the dash as he shifted, adjusting his still-hard cock in his shorts. His skin felt tight over his new muscles, the hair on his chest and legs sticking to his sweaty skin, adding to the overpowering scent that filled the car. His body, now perfect for the frat life, responded instinctively, craving the approval and attention of the bros waiting for him at the house.

After a while, they were both back at the frat house, every step sent a fresh wave of musk into the air, the smell clinging to his skin, marking him as one of them. Tom hated it, despised the way his new body seemed to revel in the scent, in the sheer masculinity of it all.

The door swung open, and the other Delta Sig brothers were already lounging on the couches, drinking and laughing. As soon as Carter walked in, all eyes were on him, and the room erupted into cheers.

“Damn, Ryan, you did a fucking good job on this one!” one of the bros called out, eyeing Carter with a mix of approval and lust.

Ryan grinned, clapping Carter on the shoulder. “Told you guys I’d bring us a new hole to fuck to replace the last one. He’s fucking perfect, right?”

Carter’s frat bro instincts kicked in, and he flexed his arms, showing off his massive biceps with a cocky grin. His body responded to their approval with an almost addictive high, a deep, primal desire to be wanted by them, to be used by them.

Inside, Tom was screaming, but his body was lost in the moment, his cock already twitching in anticipation as the bros crowded around him, patting him on the back, feeling his muscles, and welcoming him into their ranks.

Ryan leaned in close, his voice low and teasing. “You feel that, bro? You’re one of us now. Doesn’t it feel fucking amazing?”

Carter’s mouth opened, and his voice, deep, confident, and undeniably turned on answered, “Yeah, bro. Feels fucking incredible.”

Ryan smirked, satisfied. “Welcome to the brotherhood, man. Now, let’s get you upstairs and really show you what it means to be a Delta Sig.”

As the group led Tom toward the stairs, the weight of his new life fully settled in. Inside, his old self screamed and fought, desperate to break free. But his body, now a slave to the desires of the frat, couldn’t wait to submit to his bros, to be used by them in every way. ______________________________________________________________ Hey guys! Hope you'll enjoy this story based on this prompt from an anonymous: "An Uber driver picks up a drunk guy with smelly feet who taunts him with his scent and tfs him into a bro to go out drinking with." Hope you like it! As always feel free to message me in dms or ask if you want me to write prompts or just talk. Have a good day! :)

Gym Goggles

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

--- Note: Pokémon Leader TF ---

POOOOT!

"ALRIGHT! NEXT ONE!"

The Coach blew his whistle, and off goes another successful victim--applicant! Gomennasai for that error. But yes, we are all applicants here aren't we?

The next one of us is a delightful little chap who was personally invited to join us in Dorm Desire Academy. Average build, you can tell since he's stripped naked aside from the privates which are covered by swimming trunks. He should be getting rid of them soon anyway.

By the way, you could tell that he's one of those anime-obsessed teenagers if you pay a visit to his room, devoted to reading tons of manga and playing many kinds of anime-based games. Well, you could tell that too if you knew the man personally. I mean, that's why I invited him after all.

Boy, don't you know how these types just absolutely love to imagine being fit, more muscular versions of themselves. Charismatic, shouting and boasting about in their teenage-slang. Cheerful and popular, basically total jocks. I mean! Just look at how great they turned out back in the Academy!

No dumbing down in case you guys are wondering, just pushing aside and reorganizing their talents in academics and pushing it all into sports and leadersip. Though its really case by case scenario if you are going into detail.

But yes, time to start narrating properly again. Let's call the chap "Baikoha" for now.

"WHERE are your GOGGLES?!" The coach shouted."Don't you know that all new students are required to wear their FULL-SET of equipment before the lesson?"

Baikoha winced, his hands fumbling about in his trunks. Attempting to find the branded pair of swim-gear that's tucked in. "Why did I sign up for swimming lessons again?" He thought. Noting that this week is "Sports Week" at campus, a tri-monthly Dorm Desire event in which its a mandatory for new students to take part in one sporting event each time in the year.

He took out the swimming goggles, light blue lens with rubberized ocean colored sides. It was quite similar to the rest of the goggles of the other participants in line. Although, like what the mini-swimmer's package that was sent to me has said. It's of a completely different branding.

"Congratulations, you've obtained one of the two limited edition "Marlon & Brawly" branded goggles." It said, and judging by the rest of the swimmers' mass produced "Dorm Desire branded" goggles. It looks like him and one other guy are the lucky ones for this semester.

Well, you would be if the coach wasn't pissed off at you.

He quickly wore the eye-wear, a loud "Click" sound signifying the goggles being attached to my face. The surroundings gained a dark-blueish tone, as the chap stared at the deep blue open-aired swimming pool, which seems to be remodeled and designed like the ocean itself.

Stepping forward...little by little. Nervous to mention to the coach that he's "not particularly sure how to swim"..., especially considering that this side of the pool only seem to be really deep. And that's only what it seems! Imagine how deep it actually is!

"So you're one of those newbies huh? The coach spoke,uh ohWell once this week is over, I'll have you diving like a professional!" He gave a really fierce-looking grin, as he raised his right arm and--

"SURFS UP!" SLAP! SPLASH!

The helpless chap is slammed into the pool, water flows and culminates around the branded goggles. Bubbles bubbling about.

"WhaBLURRBBBLEGHHHH!"

Bubbles beam towards the corners of the student's lips.Streaming past the edges of his tongue, the uvula, and into the numerous systems in his body. Body completely paralyzed, limp and light. But alive as ever, with red hot blood pumping to overcome the oxygen deficit in the lung.

Triggering the whole body, as the bubbles work inward. Down the legs, through the arms, chest, and most importantly the head. All of it beginning to realign themselves into a proper swimmer's form. New info being slowly bubbled into his thoughts.

The first were the arms. Starting strongly as they slowly align into position, arms bulking and tanning themselves deeply with the illumination of the sun. Mixed with the cool richness of the minerals in the pool, forming a light chocolate collagen-rich tan showing confidently on his swimmer-ised, nimble and exposed biceps.

Next were the chest. Pecs pumping out like a heart, chest firm, proudly synchronized with the darkening skin tone from each arm. Blood bubbling into the veins, lungs being completely filled with air bubbles, muscles aching for some action. His body stings up!

Arms moving further and wider, involuntary to the new brain sensors as they spread wide! Performing a powerful backstroke underwater, solidifying those strong back muscles that complement the skill and strength of the swimmer. Broad shoulders, with abs glistening with a healthy Tan like the rest of his upper torso.

Legs giving a mighty dolphin kick, popping out those glutes as they form a proud bubble butt, shining out underneath the new trunks growing beneath. Tan line forming just around the waist. Bottom as clear and white as the gentle milky river.

Bubbles leave his pores via the lower portion, releasing the laziness, unenthusiasm, and stress. Legs marloning and Shoot!ing past the unathletic height. The Negative energy being destroyed and bursting all over his feet as two pair of plain-sticky dark blue sandals form over his well-developed feet.

His mouth forms a steady grin, unattractive thoughts seeping out of his new darkened coat, trunks expanding and wet-suiting down his tall legs, brightening into a positive light blue with three thick paler strips down each thigh. Pairs of fins youthfully pop by at the ends of each leg. Completing his favourite wet-suit.

The light brownish hue covers his entire neck and face. His eyebrows and hair dye themselves a sharpedo blue, angular jaw and prominent cheekbones showing off the cheeriness of the man. The man who enjoys being in the water.

"Study-nerd's essays, homework, and watching anime are total bummer dude!" His vocal cords cooled, laced with Surfer lingo. * "Radical thoughts like surfing, swimming and marine biology are totally in."* Hair styling itself into a fin of a sharpedo, with some white dotted sparkles spotted near the front.

"Yo, what's an anime? ...Man, for some reason. I feel like I was in one!"

The man thought, furrowing his well-shaped eyebrows before shrugging off almost instantly. The last bits of the negative bubbles leaving through his mouth, steady and high capacity lungs lay deep in his body. As the soothing wave carries him up the depth of the pool, shooting up as it transforms into a tidal wave and--

"SPLASHHHHHHHHHH!"

The new man rose to the surface.

Flipping up his special goggles and allowing the light blue aura of the pool's surface to diminish any doubt he once ever had. Eyes revealing to be a calm, and a refreshing blue, with the confidence and fierceness of an all time swim-goer.

Embracing and relaxing in his new identity, as Marlon, Former Gym Leader of Humilau City's Gym and now the Captain of The University's Water Sports Group. A Carefree Surfer Jock who loves nothing more than being in the water.

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

The two of them were inseparable, fierce competitors and the greatest of friends back when they met in orientation. Recognizing the other Gym Leader back when they were roomies. 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.

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!

If anyone knows the author, let me know!

Taller and stronger

--- Originally posted by unknown before 2018-08-29 ---

Anonymous asked: Can you help me become a much stronger and taller person? I'm really weak with my muscles and I want to be better

Stronger? Taller? Sure I can.

You see, first, we have to change your mentality a bit. Sure, your muscles might not be too strong right now, but we have to be careful with using words that hold such strong negative connotations. Like: "weak"

If you want a stronger, more built body, your mind has to be just as strong.

So I'm going to boost your confidence a bit, plus add in some extra knowledge about how to properly diet and exercise to maintain your new body. Consider it your lucky day as my first customer on the World Wide Web. I can't always be this generous.

Now, I'm going to need you to close your eyes and imagine with me:

Your height is by far the easiest thing to change. Let's shoot you to, hmm, just under 6 feet. Picture your legs stretching oh so slowly. Feel the tissues and fibers of your muscles pulling up and away from the ground.

See? That wasn't too bad. I doubt you felt a thing.

Now, your strength.

I want you to picture your ideal physique. How strong do you want to be? How big do you want to look? Feel the heat beneath your skin as your imagination begins to grow, and, in turn, so do those muscles.

Your arms and legs begin to swell far greater than your wildest dreams. Your chest and shoulders expand outwards, creating an intimidating and admirable silhouette.

Hmm, some callouses on those hands huh? Nice touch. I mean, it makes sense with how jacked you look. You're looking great.

And I'm going to have to stop you there, before you get a little carried away with yourself.

I've never let someone change themselves, so, I gotta learn how far I can push those limits. But, like I said, it's your lucky day as my first online customer.

I hope you enjoy your new bod - I know I definitely do. Take care of it, cause I don't offer any returns or touch-ups without a tremendous cost, and trust me, no one wants to see what that is.

Magic Mike III: Part 5

“Hello, Mr. Gyllenhaal”

Finally some time to breathe - whilst everyone else was enjoying casting season where they can finally get picked up for other films, Jake Gyllenhaal was just ready to enjoy some time away from the set as pre-production crawled into the focus of everybody’s lives. 

Cast and crew all busying themselves whilst Jake was cast away to some forgotten island off the coast of Hawaii for a holiday.

He had his luggage brought up and continued to listen to the words of the staffer helping him, not even minding how odd it seemed that the man helping him didn’t even look like typical staff. Dressed in a navy blue suit, the staffer stared at him with his hazel eyes as Jake tried his best to pay attention to what was being said.

“Sorry er - what exactly is it that you do?” asked Jake, snapping out of the odd haze momentarily as he began looking the man up and down, taking in his confident demeanour and his striking resemblance to…someone else, another man that he swore was prowling around the studios from time to time on another project.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Gyllenhaal,” said the man, stepping up towards Jake as he leaned in, the mere moments of touch were exhilarating, Jake felt he should’ve backed away but instead let the man close the gap between them. “I’m just a staffer. Why don’t you go outside and relax? And why don’t you leave that shirt of yours behind?”

For a mere moment Jake thought this was odd and would have declined, the last thing he wanted to do was…relax? But then he realised how silly that sounded. After all, he went away on vacation for that very reason. And this man was someone who at least seemed trustworthy. Jake slipped off his shirt. He suddenly found himself somehow, as if being led by an odd voice in his mind, heading outside to relax and was already thankfully dressed for it.

Soon shirtless in shorts, sandals and sunlight, resting back on a deck chair as he continued to just sit there, resting in the heat.

“And how are you feeling, Mr. Gyllenhaal?” came a familiar voice before Jake’s vision was obscured somewhat in darkness, suddenly seeing spirals emerging in front of him as sunglasses were slipped over his head.

“Good,” murmured Jake, nodding as his body automatically began feeling limp and relaxed, starting to slowly fade away from reality and stare at the spirals in sunglasses. As he started to stare and give in, his own body began to change, aligning itself with his muddled mind.

The deeper he drew himself further into his hypnotic state, the further his face started to change. At first shifting only from his own jaw, growing sharper than it already was and with the hair that formed his beard growing darker as his face began to grow longer. His head enlarged slightly with his forehead widening and his hairline started to come down. 

Age began to fade away from Jake’s visage, small wrinkles that once started to appear in were now a distant memory as his ears grew and suddenly the last sane part of his own mind realised that his face shifted to suit the sunglasses, perfectly keeping them in place and no longer drooping down his once smaller nose.

Jake moaned as he felt his eyes adapting to the spirals, his eyes enlarging, focusing further and further as the sunbaked tone of his face began trickling down towards his neck. His own vocal chords deepening before his own bare torso began to cause his body to bulk and sprout, stretching as he grew towards his full height.

As Jake shifted in the seat, still somewhat confused as to what he was experiencing but letting himself bask in the warmth of pleasure and sunlight as he could see his skin almost moving like the waves as if something was underneath causing his muscles to implode his body into the muscularity of a bodybuilder.

His biceps became bulging brawny limbs as the tone travelled down towards his hands, having no choice to grow in order to adjust to the size of his large arms, the knuckles cracking and the fingers flexing as they adjusted in their lengthened and larger state. All the while his own abs pushed out, pulsating as a great ridge began to form betwixt his pecs carving out the beautiful brown pecs that were now on his own chest.

The same kind of ridge formed down at his stomach where he could see his hard earned abs grew even harder as they soon continued to grow and swell one by one, just as his hypnotic commands were telling him to do so.

It was almost as if his mind was able to alter his body and he was loving how it continued to change as his legs parted slightly, relieving himself as his thighs began to thicken. His own shaft broadening as he could feel his own cock against his shorts. The last dregs of himself fuelling the rest of his body as his feet lengthened in his sandals, stretching them to their limit.

“Now, Mr. Gyllenhaal, just relax, I think the others will be here soon and after all this is the perfect place to begin filming. After all, I think this is going to be a fantastic step in your career.”

The man smiled down at the slumping Jake Gyllenhaal, now unrecognisable and the perfect final addition to Magic Mike 3.

A New Delivery Service

Jimmy picked up the delivery order from the city’s newest, most overpriced, most overrated fusion restaurant, put the delivery bag into his backpack, and stepped out of the door to unlock his bike. He hated menial, brainless, shit jobs like this, ones that got him absolutely no where and ones where the people he dealt with were reliably all motherfuckers. He couldn’t complain too much, though. He got to create his own hours, the constant to-and-from gave him plenty of exercise to maintain his lean figure, he could put in his ear buds and get paid to ride around town listening to music, and there were other perks of the job.

He unwrapped the lock on his bike and put it back in his bag and then pulled out his phone. He clicked back to the delivery app and confirmed that the order had been picked up and waited for the app to load the directions to the drop-off location. His phone chimed as the delivery address was mapped out.

“Bitch, what the fuck??” Jimmy huffed out loud and dropped his jaws at the location. The home he was to deliver the food to was on the literal opposite side of town, up the gradual sloping hill on which the whole town was built, and was apparently a 45 minute biking route. To make matters worse, the app guaranteed a delivery time to its customers within a half-hour window, and docked it from the deliverer’s pay if that window was lapsed.

“Nuh-uh, nope,” Jimmy shook his head and flipped through the app, making his way to the employee support portal. This called for taking advantage of those ‘other perks’ of the job.

He arrived at the ‘Delivery Assistance’ tab of the employee support portal and entered in the details of the delivery. Well, actually he flubbed the details a bit. Exaggerated the delivery distance, over-estimated the weight of the delivery, maybe inflated some more numbers here and there... What the hell, what the company didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

He leaned back after hitting submit, watching the spinning wheel on his phone that indicated that his request was being processed. He anxiously tapped his heel against the pavement awaiting the response, when his phone vibrated.

Request granted!

• Enhancement : current stats X 3

• New delivery time estimate : 20 min.

• Duration of enhancement : 1 hour 20 minutes

Jimmy only had time to wheeze out a shocked laugh as he felt his phone send a jolt through his arm. He was no slouch, but three times his current stats?? And for an hour and twenty minutes?? Talk about a lucky fucking break!

His body immediately tensed up as a high moan suddenly escapes his lips, and he could feel himself spreading upwards and outwards. His calves dropped any hint of body fat and tightened, feeling slightly like a leg cramp, but then loosened as thick muscle twisted up the length of his claves and thighs. He felt his ass lift off his seat with a giggle as his cheeks packed on dense meat. It traveled up his back and torso, carving his back, sides, and abs into a sculpted work of art as he felt his pecs begin to bounce. They thudded bigger and bigger as he looked down and giggled with a deeper and deeper moan, taking a handful of each new massive tit in each hand, his breath quickening as he felt his neck widen and thicken while his shoulders rolled forward. As his shoulders pushed outwards to accommodate his still-growing size, they bursted larger with bulging definition. His flexed his already massive arms as he continued playing with his tits and playing with his nipples. His arms had always been his most treasured feature that he kept proudly displayed with a tank top, and now firm muscle snaked down the expanse of his limbs, rising to the surface and bulging into twisting pythons of muscle. His arms crossed as he flexed and felt the new size of his bulging peaks of muscle. He threw his head back in a way-too-loud groan—garnering plenty of stares from pedestrians—at the next sensation. ‘Guess they haven’t fixed the bug yet,’ he thought with a grin as he felt his cock stir to life within his shorts. His typically 4 inch softie bloomed outward, snaking down his thigh and fattening considerably into a soft 12 inch hog, and quickly swelling into an unwieldy, throbbing 18 inch pecker, a considerable increase from his typically 6 inch hard-ons.

Request complete! Proceed to your destination.

He grinned down at his phone and wheezed another small laugh. He should be grateful that they hadn’t fixed that bug, especially considering some of the incredible shit they unfortunately got rid of with software updates. One of the older bugs was what actually turned him onto working for the app. One of his exes was a delivery biker for the app and would often surprise him all the time as a horned-up 9 foot giant hunk—sometimes smaller, sometimes bigger—to fuck him raw and shower him with unbelievable excesses of cum. Sometimes he’d even get big enough that Jimmy could do pull-ups on his rock hard cock hanging stiffly in the air or even use his ex’s cock slit as another hole during their impromptu lovemaking. Enough local prudes complained to the company that they were sick of seeing a bunch of horny muscular giants running around the city, so they eventually ‘fixed’ it, if you can call it ‘fixing.’

Jimmy couldn’t get over the fact that he had so much time allotted with his enhancements. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten such a long time to enjoy his enhancements… Actually, that wasn’t true. The last time was about 2 weeks ago when he finished a delivery way ahead of time and met his boyfriend at the park after. They both loved when the enhancements came through, they were a great means of keeping things hot, impassioned, and adventurous in the relationship. But most times, Jimmy only ever gets a X 1.5 or an X 2 stat enhancement, rarely ever above that. He was a fucking beast now with his X 3 enhancements, and he intended to share his new beast body with others.

He kicked up the kickstand on his bike and pushed off the ground, feeling the wind blow past his face as his new body propelled him on his bike through the air at a speed much higher than he was used to. He grinned as he pedaled up the hill, barely breaking a sweat, and dialed up his friend Pete, a coworker-turned-friend veteran in his early 40s that was stuck in the gig economy cycle like millions of other workers.

He was already a pretty hunky guy—he always joked about thanking the government for giving him his ‘superman body’ but fuck all beyond that—and he was a hell of a lay, too. Jimmy thought maybe he’d be down to party.

He held the button on his earbud and waiting for the ding. “Call Pete,” he said in a deep voice, the confirming ding echoing afterwards and putting through his call. It rang a few times until someone picked up.

“Yyyyello?” Pete answered with his typical goofy greeting for Jimmy.

“How’s it hanging, boss?” Jimmy replied with a grin. He always loved talking to Pete. He would have considered him sort of a father figure if they weren’t such good friends and even better fuck buddies.

“Currently delivering to the west side, buddy. Enjoying a X 1.5 enhancement on top of it, thank you kindly to my benevolent corporate overlords.”

“X 1.5?! Nice, dude, so they got Super-Superman out here delivering food to the masses now?”

“The people gotta eat, Jimmy!”

“And eat they will! I’m sure a lot of them would prefer a taste of your specialty. What was it today, extra long sausage rolls?”

“You know it! All day, every day my guy!” he responded cheerfully as they both laughed. A brief, semi-awkward pause laid over the conversation. “By the sound of your voice, it seems like I’m not the only one here rocking some enhancements.” There was a slight eagerness in his voice.

Jimmy’s heart leapt as he turned the corner to head further up the hill, his cock twitching and drooling out some pre as it rested stiffly against his tree trunk thigh and snaked out of the leg of his shorts. Jimmy looked down at his massive arms and only got harder. “Guilty as charged, dude.”

“How big, bro?” Jimmy could hear the smile in Pete’s voice.

“Oh, you know, just X 3.”

“X 3?! Shit, well then I guess you and I are pretty evenly matched!” He was right! Jimmy smiled and looked down at himself. Fuck, he loved looking down and seeing a porn star body. The developers had to know what they were doing when they made this feature. And come to think of it, he was basically the same size as Pete now, except almost double the package size, thanks to the system bug.

“I’d say you’re right! Buuut,” Jimmy bit his lip feeling a grin stretch across his face. “I think I have, well… about 3 times more the package you do.”

“Woof, shit… I guess I can deduce that you’re not talking about your delivery order! You’re making my mouth water, stud,” Jimmy could hear the grin in his voice as he painted on his bike. “Making my cock water a bit too, if you know what I mean!”

“I think I do, Pete. I think I do.” Jimmy kept pedaling up the hill while a silence hung over the line for a second. Jimmy could feel his bulging size press against itself as he leaned over to pedal harder. “So… Meet up at the park bathroom after our delivery runs?”

“Fuuuck yes, man! Haha, I was beginning to worry you’d never offer!” Pete chuckled to himself for a second. “Now this is gay culture: two alpha studs swapping spit and jizz in a public bathroom.”

“It’s what our forefathers and foremothers would’ve wanted,” Jimmy quipped back, suddenly realizing something. “OOOOHH I think Richie is working today. Wanna make it a party?”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, the more the merrier!”

“Awesome. Either way, I’ll see you in like 10, good?”

“Good. Keep it stiff for me, stud.”

Jimmy smiled and hung up. That would be no problem; he’d been fully cocked since he heard Pete’s voice, and his unnaturally large cock head was poking out of his shorts by now, leaking sticky pre onto his thigh as he pedaled. He just hoped Richie could join in on the fun.

Jimmy knew that Richie only worked a few days out of the week, but took only the biggest jobs when he did. He loved the extra money, sure, but he loved the enhancements more. Jimmy could remember more than a few occasions that he ran into Richie while he was looking like some body builder fetishist’s giant, sweaty, throbbing wet dream. It was comically different from what Richie was like outside of work. If you saw him on his work days versus his short, twiggy appearance and demeanor on his off days, you’d think they weren’t even related.

He tapped the button on his earpiece again, “Call Richie,” and listened to the ringtone. After a few rings, the line answered.

“YOOOOOOOO,” Jimmy heard a thundering, impossibly deep voice answer.

Jimmy’s grin widened. They’d need a bigger bathroom.