The New Gym Bro

Locker 054

Michael was excited to be picking up a new hobby, he was going to start going to the gym, he was always a pretty skinny guy but he was looking to put on some muscle. Entering the gym for the first time Michael spoke to the guy running the front desk, he got a membership set up for himself and was pointed in the direction of the locker room. Entering the locker room for the first time, Michael was met with a musty smell lingering in the place. Of course Michael wasn't expecting it to smell like a perfume counter so he didn’t pay too much mind to the smell, but as he entered deeper into the locker room the smell got more and more intense. He had passed by a tall gym bro who had dumbly told him “Broooo, locker 054 is unlocked if you wanna use it.”

Michael had decided to find locker 054 and when he got to it he set his stuff down on the bench while he opened it up. Upon opening it he was met with an obviously worn tank top and a pair of gray sweatpants sitting at the bottom of his locker, and on top sat a pair of ripe gym socks. Gagging and turning away Michael was disgusted from the ripe scent pouring off of the clothes and out of the locker. It reeked so horribly that Michael grabbed his stuff and started to walk away when he suddenly thought to himself “Why am I leaving my locker wide open…? Im such a dummy” turning back around he made his way back to the toxic smelling locker. Setting his stuff back down Michael began to get changed, picking up the stinking socks he slipped one foot in and then the other. Feeling the wet feel of the sweat soaked socks would have typically disgusted Michael but now he felt as if this was natural for him. He could smell the newly acquired putrescent stink flowing out of his feet. Taking a deep whiff he felt his head get lighter, and for some reason being here in the gym, in the locker room, at this locker, it all felt so routine.

He proceeded to grab the sweat pants and pull them up above waist, his crotch immediately released the stench of his dried cum and ball sweat wafting towards his nose. It was odd to Michael that he could smell it given that he had showered right before he came to the gym, he shouldn't reek already. Checking if it really was coming from him Michael did something that he would never have done normally, he scratched his balls with his right hand and brought his fingers up to his nose, taking a big whiff he audibly went “Huhuhuhu…so stinky”.

Going back to putting the gym clothes on after his sniff check, Michael put his arm through one arm hole and then the other arm through the other of the white tank top. Now completely on Michael once again smelled a new nasty scent radiating off of him, sticking the same hand he had used to scratch his balls underneath his armpit he left it tucked there for a few seconds. Pulling it out he once again brought his hand to his nose and took a deep whiff. Letting the smell of his wet, tainted, armpit flood his nose sealed his fate. His body began to inflate as his arms grew more muscular, his legs grew sturdier, his feet grew bigger. He let out a deep dump giggle and picked up a can of AXE body spray from his bag. Spraying a spritz on each pit he gave them a sniff to check, to him they now smelled fresh as a daisy, but to anyone else they completely reeked of strong B.O. and cheap AXE. Looking in the mirror Michael saw a hot gymnast reeking of pheromones. Proud of his muscles and progress over the past few years coming to the gym he flexed in the mirror, lifting his arms to do so let out his festering pit stench directly from the source.

After practicing his gymnastics routine for an hour or so he returned to the locker room. Michael got changed back into his everyday clothes that were now too small and straining at the seams. He took the pile of damp gym clothes and set them back in the locker. Adorning his filthy pile with his even smellier socks on top, he leaned in and took a deep sniff of the stinky pile, eyes rolling back in his head from pleasure he knew had had a good workout based off of the stink he and his clothes let off. Closing the locker and leaving it unlocked he had begun to walk to the door when he passed by a lean guy walking into the locker room. “Broooo, locker 054 is unlocked if you wanna use it.” Michael disclosed with his usual idiotic tone.

Ben hovered outside the corner shop, fidgeting with his hoodie strings. Today felt different, charged with a strange energy he couldn’t quite place.

His mate, Jake, swaggered over, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “Oi, Ben, you ever tried one of these?” Jake handed him a tightly rolled blunt, its scent tingling Ben’s senses with its earthy pungency. Without thinking, Ben took it, his hand trembling slightly.

As he took a cautious puff, the world around him blurred and intensified. Heat surged through his veins, each heartbeat echoing like a drum. His skin tingled, every cell buzzing with potential.

His frame began to shift, stretching and expanding. Arms that were once skinny swelled with surprising heft, his chest broadening under the fabric of his hoodie. It clung snugly to his developing form, showcasing the transformation. Abs rippled with newfound strength, pressing tight against his joggers.

A wave of musk enveloped him, a heady mix of sweat and raw masculinity, intoxicating in its intensity. Rather than shying away, Ben inhaled deeply, savoring every note.

Beneath his waistband, he felt an exhilarating pressure. His cock and balls swelled, growing heavier and more prominent, a throbbing force that demanded his attention. Every pulse was a declaration of his new, potent vitality.

With each drag of the blunt, his thoughts shifted. Homework? Video games? Nah, that wasn’t him. His head buzzed with new urges. Partying, pulling, living large in the open air where anyone could see him. Every sensation turned him on, amplifying his raw, untamed energy.

Ben’s tongue darted out, tasting the air, an involuntary smirk curling his lips. No longer the timid boy hiding in the shadows, he was a king of the street, hot, dumb, and ready for action.

His hoodie hung open, proudly displaying his chiseled torso, the chilly breeze licking across his skin as he strutted forward. Each step sent pleasurable tingles, every sway exuding confidence and power.

"Yo, Jake, got another blunt?" he quipped, his voice a deep drawl, laden with mischief.

Not waiting for an answer, Ben leaned in closer, eyes sparking with desire and authority. Boldly, he pulled Jake in by the collar for a lingering snog, his hands exploring with a firm, commanding grip.

Breaking the kiss, he whispered with a smirk, "Let's have some fun, yeah?" His tone brooked no argument, the kingly chav ready to claim the night.

Grindr Gold

This is a rewrite of Rozza’s rewrite of Tinder Gold. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

“Fuck, why don’t you guys respond!”, Tom moaned as he fell back into his bed. Another guy had just gone and ghosted him, the sixth one this week. Tom was pissed and confused as to why he was failing with so many guys. It was true that he didn’t have the looks. Average height, average hair, average face. A face dotted with acne, on top of his unremarkable body, pudgy from years of studying. He was smart, provably so, but also funny and kind. He hoped that would shine through in his bio. Tom went back to his phone and looked over it, and his pics. Maybe there was something he could tweak to make him more attractive. Or it could be a waste of time. All the guys wanted was cheap sex with the man of their dreams, and that was it.

Tom was about to let go of the phone when he saw a new banner at the bottom of the screen, advertising Grindr Gold. “Stop looking for the perfect match - become one!” It totally looked like a scam to Tom, but he had been so unlucky recently that he would consider anything. He tapped the banner, bringing up the purchase screen. It wasn’t very clear to him exactly what they provided for the hefty $250 a month. “Personalized profile to maximize your chance to strike gold.” Whatever. The first month was $10, and he could cancel at any point, according to the page. He could buy it, maybe get a few dates, and then keep the profile as is after cancelling.

He tapped his screen again to pay, ignored a mile of terms and conditions, and finalized his payment. He looked impatiently at the screen as nothing happened. Everything was the same. A scam after all. A few seconds later there was a knock on the door, giving Tom a jump scare. He got up to go and see who it was, still pissed about his lost $10. He opened the door and almost dropped his jaw on the floor. Outside the door was the most handsome twink he had ever seen, online as well as in the flesh. A shorter, younger boy with bronzed skin, blond hair in a quiff, sparkling green eyes, and just as sparkling, white smile. He was wearing gold shorts, trendy shoes, and nothing else, showing off the rest of his body. It was fit, without being muscular or overly cut, showing hints of definition and abs. His skin was beautifully, evenly tanned and smooth, and like the rest of him looked perfected with many products. His face had been cleansed of any impurities and facial hair, while his golden gelled up quiff was flanked by freshly buzzed sides. Tom’s brained blanked, partly because of the unexpected surprise visitor, partly because of this visitor in particular, and partly because the blood rushed into his quickly stiffening dick.

“Tom, I assume?” the twink queried.

Tom was speechless, struggling with where to look. When he looked at the face his eyes were drawn into the green eyes, and it felt rude and awkward to gaze into an unknown mans eyes like that. Anywhere else on the body was worse. Look at the nipples? The golden bulge?

“I am Grindr Gold, professional dater and dating expert, and I am here to assist you. May I come in?” Tom was struggling to comprehend that Grindr Gold wasn’t a software update, or a service feature, or even a scam, but a real, life something seemingly teleported to outside his door.

“Yeah… Yes! Yes, of course. Step right in.” Tom moved out of the way and waved towards the interior of the messy apartment. “Are you some kind of dating coach? Will you get me laid?”

“Of course! I am Grindr Gold, and I never disappoint.” Gold was slowly turning, taking in the sight of Tom’s small student apartment.

“Wait, your name is Grindr? No, nevermind. What’s first?”

“Take off your shirt and have a seat”, he motioned towards Tom’s study armchair. “We know exactly what everyone is looking for, what types get hookups, what the supply and demand is. I’m here to improve supply where it is needed the most. Firstly, no one wants another post-college graduate. There are plenty of them around. They want a freshly minted fuckboi.“

What did he just say now? Did he just say fuckboi? No way Tom was going to be like one of those dumbasses, who just existed to get laid. But before he could object, Gold began waving his hands. Tom became dizzy and distorted as energy waves from Gold’s hands flew into him. His skin vibrated, turning back years. His fat mostly melted away, leaving a little around his stomach. The hair on his chest receded back into his skin, softening out his pecs. The hair on his legs thinned out as well, but remained spread out for his age. The lines and bags on his face, caused by all the stress of college, faded. His looks had gone from mid-twenties PhD student to a youthful 18 year old.  

“What the fuck! This isn’t what I wanted! I look like a dumb teenager!”, Tom shouted in a decidedly younger voice, as he saw his reflection on his phone screen.

“Relax, this is just the first step to getting you laid. Your profile said you are just looking for a hookup, right?”

“Yeah, but not like…”

“I’m gonna do the best I can, making you the most sought after fuck for miles. Let me change your mind on this. If things don’t work out, we can always go for a different look. Now we gonna get you yeeted up…”

Without waiting for a response Gold started massaging Tom’s arms, infusing them with the same energy. Tom laid back as all he could do was relax in Gold’s hands. Gold moved his hands carefully across the entire surface of Tom’s skin, everywhere his hands went hair disappeared. After finishing with his arms, he moved to his chest and then finishing with his legs, removing any stray patches of hair.  Once he was done, the only hair left was around his dick and his pits. Gold focused harder now, causing his hands to vibrate and made a second pass. This time as they swept across Tom’s body they instilled a golden tan with a touch of Italian olive as he rewrote his genetics. His hands swept through the mess of Tom’s hair, changing it into a light, crisp brown. Then he continued down, focusing on Tom’s face, cleansing it of impurities and perfecting his features. Tom’s nose and mouth shrunk, though his lips grew, and eyes turned brown. Gold poked Tom’s nipples causing them to darken and grow slightly. Golds hands then pushed the energy down Tom, doing unseen magic down his pants.

“Now, anyone can be young and pretty, but there are really only two sorts of people looking for a date around here. Alpha males, and those who wish they were. And there is one thing that get both of them going, that invites them to dominate.” Gold stepped back and framed his hands sideways as if to take an invisible picture. Then he quickly slammed his hands together. To Tom, it felt like crashing into a pool of water. All of a sudden he was being compressed. His height fell from 5′10 foot down to a more modest 5'6. His limbs crushed in on themselves to meet his new height. Feet and hands adjusting down as well. His size 10 feet shrank to a cuter 7.5. His loss of height and body hair made him look not just young, but cute. The kind of look that if he got angry people would find it adorable. How on earth was any of this going to get him laid? Gold smiled, sensing his skepticism.

“Patience fam, the best is on the way! I promised I would change your mind.” Gold took one hand and placed it on Tom’s temple and with the other grabbed his small package.

“Wait what are you…. ohhh…” Tom moaned as his muscles slacked and resistance faded. He could feel a strange hum in his mind and a stirring in his dick. The sensation scared him but it was also too pleasurable to fight. Tom’s hair began to change, his sides faded down so you could see his skin, while the hair on the top also shortened, before collecting into a cute ruffle. Tom’s pecs remained small but the remaining fat converted into muscle giving him a toned look. His arms swelled with strength and pudgy stomach shrank into a faint but hard six-pack. At the same time, his small dick began to grow, gaining inches. His facial features became more pointed, eyes darkening with hunger and lust in them, and his mouth curled into a pout smile, with his lips puffing up into a pseudo duck shape unless consciously pulled back.

Old Tom would be embarrassed at him now, but Tommy was swimming in horniness, as he began to lust for boys and sex. Any knowledge he had gained, and dreams of careers faded and were replaced with a desire for screwing every boy in town. Gold’s smile transformed into a grin.

“One last thing to make you a proper fuckboi!” Gold said as his energies forced themselves into Tommy one last time. Two shiny studs pierced his ears, glistening in the sunlight. A golden bracelet appeared on his left wrist. Tommy looked down, feeling his dick still growing and tingling, and saw Calvin Klein underwear peeking out from a pair of baller shorts, with slowly filling bulge.

“Ahhhhhhhh fuck boooooooooi!” Tommy screamed in his soft, boyish voice as he came, filling his underwear with boy cream. Posters of video games vanished, replaced by posters of boys bands, athletes and cars. His new idols and interests. His computer shrank and changed into a worn-out basketball and books evaporated, replaced with sports gear, outdoor equipment and playboy magazines.

Having done the final touches on wardrobe, accessories and interior decoration, Gold turned to Tommy. “I have a new Grindr bio ready to go for you. Just need a new photo to update your profile with. You should take it with your shirt off. Do it somewhere public, like an elevator or shopping mall, so you look easy and cheap. It’s fucks you want after all, not a boyfriend.”

The Drifter

Every now and again, when things just weren’t going your way, a brisk hike through the woods always helped to clear your mind. The rustling leaves, chirping of birds, the gravel trail beneath your shoes... it just seemed to help all the troubles and struggles of the day melt away. Today, however, something was off. You parked your car in the North Lot, and being so eager to decompress you left the lights on. Two hours later, you return to a lemon. The battery was dead, and with no one else in the parking lot, your only option was to run to the South Lot where the ranger station was. Thus, you sighed in exhaustion as you turned around and stumbled the long three mile trek to the South Lot.

The park was massive, and only had one main road for cars to pass from the entrance to the two parking lots. The winding gravel road was not particularly well maintained, and you thought to yourself on more than one occasion that the designer of the park must have had some bad Acid when he had routed it. Hard right turns, steep hills and filled with potholes the size of bowling balls. This was hardly the way you’d have preferred to get to the South Lot, but it was the most direct route and had the potential of a passing motorist saving your afternoon. Yet, a mile and a quarter in, not only had no one passed by you, but the sun was beginning to set beyond the canopy above. Surely a park ranger would have seen your car and gone looking before closing the gates?

Regardless of how long you had been walking, in your mind, you’d gone fifty miles. Just as the tree stump tumbled over on the side of the road looked awfully nice to take a quick nap on, a faint red light in the distance caught your eye. Just around the bend, on the other side of the ridge was a black car, and it was running. Relief! What modicums of energy you could expend, you did as you booked it down the gravel road, nearly tripping over your own feet three times enroute. Finally, the sound of a running motor brought such reassurance as you came up on the car. It was an old muscle car, a 1969 Mustang, not that you knew it. All you knew and cared about was the assistance from whomever the driver was. Walking up to the drivers side window, you sigh and prepare to thank the driver...

Empty. The car was running, windows down, The Weeknd blaring on the radio. You looked around the surrounding area for the owner, met only with empty woods at dusk.

“Hello?!” You cried out, now worried that you had stumbled upon a crime scene or a trap. No response. You turned around to glance at the car again, only to see the drivers side door was now ajar. You knew that you hadn’t opened it. You knew that there was no one inside the car, and after a peek under the car you knew there was no one around. It was an old car, perhaps it just didn’t shut properly? Ignoring the implausibility of that thought, you took a seat on the drivers seat, and tried to think of a plan. The sun was setting, you’re sitting in an abandoned car in the middle of the woods, and you’re still miles away from the ranger.

“Get in...” an ethereal voice whispered out of the radio, superimposed over the uninterrupted music. You turned to the old radio, second guessing your senses, not even realizing you had brought your legs inside of the car. The door slowly shut behind you as you examined the radio. The stick shifted into drive, and the car began to lurch forward. Panic set in, it was a trap of some sort. Kidnapping? You were poor no one would pay... Human Trafficking? Maybe, but this was awfully elaborate for that. A prank? A TV prank show was not out of the realm of possibility...

“Relax...” the voice cooed over the radio again, it’s soothing and velvety tone was certainly comforting. The car drove slowly, winding down the road toward the rangers station and the South Lot. Bruno Mars was now serenading on the radio, music that you were rather indifferent to before and yet in that moment it felt as if you knew every word and every verse. You allowed the music to relax you, to let you breathe.

“Smoke...” You looked down at the ashtray, a still smoking blunt sat waiting next to a metal lighter. It felt second nature to you to bring the blunt to your mouth, the dampness of its previous owners lips could still be tasted as you inhaled your first toke. You blew rings of delicate smoke as if you’d been smoking since you were a teenager. The haze of weed washed over you and you sank back into the seat, enjoying the vibes of the music, the smoke, and the drive.

“Let me in... Take the wheel...” You did as instructed. It felt so right to just fall, to just be, to just be driven. Your hands touched the worn leather steering wheel, and a shock ran up through your fingertips all the way to your toes. Your hands grasped the wheel confidently, and shifted gears effortlessly. Surges of energy hit you in waves, each one slowly washing you into a clean slate. Those woes and worries that had brought you into the woods in the first place seemed so far away now. Just the thought of snipping that life away, beginning anew as someone else. No cares, no worries, just the wide world and open road to wander.

“Just drive...” the voice now echoed inside your head, entirely separate from the radio. Zayn now crooned his sultry tones over the speakers, your personal favorite. He reminded you a bit of who you wanted to be: laid back, unbothered, stoic, effortlessly cool... that attitude of ‘I don’t give a fuck’ just gets under your skin and takes control. In fact, you wanted it to. You wanted that attitude, that vibe, that life inside of you. And as it began to flow into you from your hands gripping the wheel, you welcomed the change.

It started with pinpricks, as if your arms had fallen asleep. Yet, as they moved independently of you, grabbing the blunt, taking a toke, shifting into 2nd... it became a different sensation entirely. It was as if water was flowing into you, the swishing and sloshing of liquid within you, flooding from your fingertips downward. Your palms grew sweaty and calloused, doubling in size as they continued driving the car. Little scars and knicks from bygone bar room scuffles adorned your knuckles, drifting free spirits aren’t always welcomed in roadside haunts- so you had learned to handle yourself early on.

Your forearms were growing as well, the viscous sensation flowed upward into your arms, large biceps began to expand your shirtsleeves until your grey shirt had ripped. Poke and stick tattoos sprawled up your tanning skin, an outlet for your creativity and frustrations when you are bored at your Midwest rest stops or refueling at the lonely desert gas stations. Thick tufts of hair sprouted from your pits as the liquid flowed into your broadening shoulders, the remains of your poor shirt falling in shreds around you. A subtle musk started to emanate from your pits, peppery and sharp... one of your favorite scents.

Your chest expanded, two pierced Nipples perked brightly on your glistening, sticky pecs; the droplets of sweat rolled down to your navel, lean abs popping up as they passed by. You feel your posture adjust as your ass rounded out, two firm globes had you spreading your growing legs wide and leaning back into the worn leather seats.

One hand on the wheel, you grab your swelling bulge. The constraints of your pants and underwear was mounting rapidly, and in just moments you’d unzipped your fly, and released your throbbing uncut 10 incher. You groped your balls, cupping them as the grew and dropped like two golf balls in a sac. Just the slightest touch of your coarse, calloused hand on the sensitive tip of your head gave you an involuntary gasp. Pre flowed out like a faucet slipping under your musky foreskin, making every movement and jolt of the car an incredible barrage of ecstasy.

Your thighs ballooned out, and your calves hardened after years of hard work doing short stints in mechanic shops across the country. A couple hours per week, just enough to fix up the car, and keep going to the next place. Your slick, ripe size 13 feet were never going to be tied down to any one place. The world was your playground. You love your freedom, you love your independence, you love yourself, and you’re ready to roam the roads carefree from now until infinity.

Your face was the last to adjust, your eyes turning into a bright minty green, with a healthy scruffy beard sprouting up from your eternally youthful skin. As the liquid flowed up your throat, your Adam’s apple protruded even further, as the pressure kept mounting. By the time it had rushed into your head, luscious blonde locks curled out of your scalp, and earrings popped out as a final cherry on top.

You turned around, grabbing your bag from the backseat, happy to put on your favorite jeans, cleanest tank top, and well worn and loved leather jacket. Your car pulled up to a halt at the ranger station just as you were pulling on your rank harness boots. Musk, weed, and leather smells poured from the open windows as the ranger walked up to the car.

“Hey there’s an abandoned car in the North Lot. Been there for a few hours.” Your velvety baritone voice instantly charmed the man, and combined with the wafting smells from your Mustang he replied,

“Uh... yeah, yeah. Thank you sir... I’ll take a... a... a look...” the ranger stared at the sexy drifter before him, his pants began to tent. You of course took notice, reaching out for a quick grope. He gasped and moaned at your confident grasp. With one single wink, a sticky spot quickly formed in his pants.

“Ay, hurry up and we can go take a drive, whaddya say?”

I enjoyed writing this. Commissioners, your pieces are coming.

Melorius's shop: Thank you for your service

Adam stepped into the small, dimly lit Halloween shop without a clue that tonight would be anything but normal. He hesitated for a long time before deciding to go the office party. At 42, he really was finding those kinds of events more and more boring. He was late to get a costume, and with the Halloween party in just a few hours, he didn’t want to show up empty-handed, even more because Nathalie, his coworker he had kind of a crush on since she was hired a couple of months ago, would be here. Adam looked all day long but couldn’t find anything he liked or at his size. The last place on the block he didn’t check was this weird little hole-in-the-wall shop, a place he wouldn’t normally visit. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

As he walked in, the smell of old leather and musty costumes filled the air. Racks of outlandish outfits surrounded him, superheroes, clowns, knights, cowboys, Indians but none of them felt right. He wasn’t trying to win a costume contest. He just wanted something easy, fun, and simple that might bring him some points with Nathalie.

"Looking for something special?" came a smooth voice from behind the counter.

Adam turned to see an older man standing there, wearing a sharp suit that didn’t fit the vibe of the place at all. His eyes gleamed with a strange intensity, his thin lips curling into a grin that sent a shiver down Adam’s spine.

“Uh, yeah,” Adam replied, “Just something for a party. Nothing too flashy.”

The man, whose nametag read Mister Melorius, gave a knowing nod. "I think I’ve got just the thing for you." Without waiting for Adam to respond, he disappeared behind a curtain and came back holding a dark, pressed military uniform. Adam was about to say no thanks when a shimmer of the dogtag caught his attention on the uniform. He thought for a second and as a reflex, his hands reached for the costume. Maybe it could work he started to think.

"Try it on," Melorius said, handing it over with a strangely eager smile.

Adam nodded and took the uniform, heading into the changing room. It felt… strange in his hands. Light but sturdy, with a coolness to the fabric. As soon as he touched it, something seemed to tug at him, a pull he couldn’t explain.

He quickly undressed, neatly folding his 3 pieces royal blue costume and red tie, then slid the uniform over his body. The trousers clung to his legs perfectly, and when he zipped up the jacket, it felt as if it had been tailored specifically for him. But just as he finished adjusting the collar, a sudden warmth spread through him, like someone had flipped a switch inside his body.

“Whoa…” he whispered, looking in the mirror to see his reflection only to be met with weird sensations invading his lower half.

His breath hitched as a deep, pulsing warmth gathered in his chest and spread outwards. He watched, wide-eyed, as his reflection began to change. His shoulders, narrow and unremarkable, slowly began to broaden. Muscles thickened beneath his skin, his traps rising higher, giving him a solid, athletic look, he never had. His biceps bulged, veins snaking under the skin as they expanded, stretching the sleeves of the uniform.

Adam’s arms swelled as they filled with muscle, his forearms thickening to match. His fingers, once slim and soft, grew thicker and calloused as if he’d been doing pull-ups and handling weapons for years. He tried to flex his hand, but the strength in his grip now felt foreign, almost as if he didn’t recognize his own power.

His chest pushed out next. He gasped, watching as his pecs thickened, rising up under the fabric of the uniform. Each breath he took made his pecs swell even more, the fabric pressing tight against them. He ran a hand over his chest, feeling the firm slabs of muscle there, and while his body was filling out with youthful strength, no chest hair sprouted. Instead, there was just a faint happy trail starting beneath his belly button, leading down into his waistband.

But it wasn’t just his chest. His abs rippled underneath the uniform, once undefined but now clear and sharp as if carved from stone. Each muscle tightened, becoming more pronounced, a solid six-pack replacing the soft stomach he’d grown used to over the years.

"What's happening?!" Adam muttered; his voice slightly higher than before. He tried to tug at the collar, but his hands were trembling. He watched his legs next, his thighs, once lean, ballooned with muscle, stretching the fabric of the pants until they hugged every powerful curve. His calves followed, thickening with each passing second, as if he had spent years running drills and hiking with heavy gear.

Adam felt a strange tightness in his groin. His cock, which had been a respectable 5.5 inches before, began to throb. He looked down, his heart pounding as he watched it grow harder in his pants. But instead of stopping, it kept swelling. The pressure inside his trousers grew unbearable as his cock thickened, stretching longer, now standing at a solid 9 inches when fully erect. His balls, too, grew heavier, tugging down into the tight space of his trousers. The weight of them sent an odd thrill up his spine.

He felt every change in vivid detail, the growing weight between his legs pulling more of his attention as his balls swelled, stretching the skin tight. It wasn’t just physical, his mind seemed to grow fuzzy as well. He clutched his head, trying to hold onto who he was, but each throb in his nuts seemed to drain away another part of his mind, like his very memories were slipping away.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he groaned, trying to focus on his reflection only to realize his face starting to change, to regress. In front of him, his hair started to grow back and took a light brown color, his skin tighten on his bones and muscles and his eyes cleaned of any sight disease..

The muscles in his back stretched next, widening, growing strong as if molded for carrying heavy packs. His spine straightened, the tightness there easing as his posture improved, making him stand taller. His entire frame had become lean but muscular, the body of someone fresh out of boot camp. His feet felt cramped as they grew too, filling out and pushing against the leather of his enw combat boots.

The reflection staring back at him was unrecognizable now, his youthful face smooth and sharp, his jawline chiseled. He was 19 again, with the fresh vigor of someone who had just graduated from military school. His eyes gleamed with a new confidence, the innocence of his late twenties long drained away.

Adam, frozen in surprise and incomprehension in his new 19 years old self wanted to scream for help. He grabbed the curtain of the dressing room only to realize something just woke up a bit lower.

His cock twitched again, harder this time, filling his pants with precum as it continued to throb. The uniform was pressing tight against his groin, the sensation making him grit his teeth. Adam felt like he was falling mentally, his old life, his name, his personality, everything that made him himself was being funneled into his swelling nuts, filling them with the essence of his past self. He tried to fight it, gripping his thickened biceps and flexing his jaw, but the pleasure was too much.

“Oh… fuck,” Adam gasped, his cock leaking steadily now, every pulse sending another piece of who he used to be into the pit of his balls. His mind was going blank. Everything about his past, the awkward college days, his old job, his straight lifestyle, was swirling away, replaced by a fresh, cocky attitude that fit his new body like a glove.

Adam felt the last grip he had on his old life give up in his brain as he mentally heard a Gulp sound and without touching himself, he came. His cock twitched violently in his trousers, releasing rope after rope of thick cum into the fabric, soaking through. His knees almost buckled, his muscles tensing as his orgasm washed over him. Every shot of cum seemed to drain away the last remnants of Adam. He groaned, feeling his pants tighten around his cock as it spurted again, marking the end of his transformation.

His breathing slowed, the intense pleasure fading, leaving him standing there in the dressing room. Adam blinked, his expression now one of cocky satisfaction. His body was exactly what it should be, perfectly toned, fresh out of military school, ready to take on any challenge. He gave his bulging biceps a flex, smirking at his reflection.

Just as the last of his cum soaked through his uniform pants, there was a flash of light.

When his eyes adjusted, Adam found himself standing in a dimly lit room, surrounded by cheering soldiers. The Halloween Initiation party was in full swing, but this was no normal party. The barracks were filled with the scent of sweat and musk, and the energy in the room was electrifying. The blue-balled soldiers had been playing games of dares all night while drinking alcohol and thinning about their girls back home. They were taking turns on each other, their pent-up frustration boiling over into raw sexual energy as each other companies was the only thing available for them at the moment.

Adam's cock, still half-hard from his transformation, twitched at the sight. He wasn’t one to back down from a bet, no matter what it involved. His cocky grin widened as one of the guys, a bulky lance caporal sauntered over.

“New guy, huh? Hope you’re not shy,” the private smirked, pointing toward the center of the room where a game of dares was already heating up. Guys were taking turns on each other, sucking, fucking, the air thick with tension, laugh and alcohol.

“Shy? Never,” Adam said, the words rolling off his tongue like second nature. His old self would have been horrified, but that part of him was long gone. Now, all he felt was the thrill of the challenge, his cock already hardening again at the thought of taking one of those dares.

Within moments, Adam found himself stripped down to his uniform pants, standing in the circle of horny soldiers. His cock stood at attention, rock hard, dripping precum as the dares flew around the room. One soldier dared him to take one in the ass to prove he was one of them, and Adam’s grin only widened.

“Bring it on,” he said, his voice steady, confident.

Across the room, another soldier, Ryan, a tall, ripped guy with a mischievous smirk, caught Adam’s eye. Ryan had a reputation for never backing down from a challenge either, and tonight was no different.

“Alright, new kid,” Ryan called out, voice booming over the music. “You think you’ve got the guts to take on me? I bet you can’t last more than four minutes before I make you tap out. And if you think you can, then let’s make it interesting, I’ll fuck you, and if you make me cum first, you win. But if I fuck you senseless before the clock runs out, you’re mine for the rest of the night!”

The crowd hooted and hollered, clearly loving the idea. Adam, never one to back down, chuckled and shrugged, stepping forward. “You’re on,” he grinned, puffing out his chest as if the challenge didn’t faze him at all. Inside, his nerves tingled with a mix of excitement and tension. His old self would’ve balked at the idea, but the new Adam? He was born for this.

Ryan smirked and cracked his knuckles, stepping forward, already unbuttoning his pants while some of the guys set up a makeshift timer. Adam, shirtless, his abs and pecs glistening with sweat, kicked off his boots and started to peel off his uniform pants, his semi-hard cock springing free to a chorus of cheers and whistles from the guys around him. The thought of bending over for the first time sent a shiver down his spine, but instead of hesitation, all Adam felt was excitement. He was ready to win this bet and prove he was worth being one of them.

They positioned themselves in the center of the room. Adam braced himself on his hands and knees, his ass in the air, and his cock still throbbing as it brushed against the cold floor. The crowd gathered close, cheering and egging them on, chanting Adam’s name. Ryan loomed over him, his own cock hard and dripping, ready to go.

With no further delay, Ryan pushed his cock against Adam’s tight, virgin hole, and the moment Ryan started to press inside, Adam gritted his teeth. A sharp pain shot through him, his body tensing instinctively. The stretch was intense, way more than he’d expected, but he wasn’t going to back down. No way. Not with all these guys watching, cheering him on.

“Hah! You good down there?” Ryan teased, but Adam just barked a laugh through the pain.

“Hell yeah, I’m good. Just fuckin’ do it, man,” Adam shot back, shaking his head, trying to ease himself into the sensation. He wasn’t about to give Ryan the satisfaction of seeing him break.

The crowd roared as Ryan pushed deeper, and Adam’s breath hitched in his throat. He could feel every inch of Ryan’s cock stretching him wide, filling him up. It hurt like hell at first, his ass clenching tight, but Adam just grinned through it, biting down on his lip, determined to win.

He could hear the timer start ticking. He just had to hold out, just had to make Ryan cum first.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, hotshot,” Ryan growled and started to thrust, his hips slamming forward, his cock driving into Adam with rough, forceful strokes. Adam gasped, his body jolting with every powerful thrust, but instead of crumbling, he let out a breathless laugh.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” Adam taunted, grinning as he glanced over his shoulder, catching the strain on Ryan’s face.

Ryan’s cock pounded into him, faster, harder, his grip tightening on Adam’s hips as he tried to get the upper hand. But no matter how rough it got, no matter how much it burned and stretched Adam’s hole, he refused to give in. The cheers from the guys around him only fueled his determination.

“C’mon, Ryan, don’t hold back now!” Adam shouted over his shoulder, half-laughing, half-moan escaping him as the pleasure started to edge out the pain. He could feel his own cock twitching beneath him, leaking pre-cum onto the floor as Ryan’s relentless fucking started to push him closer to the edge. But it wasn’t about him. He had to make Ryan lose it first.

And Ryan was struggling. Adam could feel it in the way his thrusts were getting sloppier, the way his breath was coming in ragged gasps. His cock was twitching inside him, his composure cracking with every second that ticked by. Adam’s muscles tightened, and he arched his back just a little, pushing his ass up to meet Ryan’s thrusts, making it even harder for him to hold back.

“You gonna cum for me, Ryan?” Adam teased, voice ragged, but still full of that cocky confidence. The guys around them cheered louder, and Adam fed off their energy, his grin widening. He was close to winning. He could feel it.

Ryan let out a guttural moan, his hands digging into his hips as he tried to hold out, but Adam wasn’t going to give him a chance. He clenched his ass tight around Ryan’s cock, squeezing him hard, and that was all it took.

With a loud groan, Ryan’s hips stuttered, and Adam felt the sudden warmth of Ryan’s cum spilling deep inside him. The crowd erupted into cheers, fists pumping into the air as Ryan lost the challenge. Adam let out a triumphant laugh, his chest heaving, body shaking with the intensity of the moment.

Ryan slumped forward, panting heavily as he pulled out, but Adam was already standing up, grinning ear to ear, his own cock still hard, bobbing between his legs as the crowd of soldiers slapped him on the back, shouting congratulations.

“You fuckin’ did it!” one of them laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “You made him blow in under four minutes!”

“Hell yeah, I did,” Adam grinned, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He could still feel the dull ache in his ass, but it didn’t matter. He had won, he was one of them, and the rush of victory coursed through him like fire.

The crowd of soldiers slapped him on the back, congratulating him, Ryan approached from behind. The tall, ripped soldier, still catching his breath from their intense initiation challenge, gave Adam a smirk that spoke volumes. Without warning, Ryan wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in close. Adam grinned, thinking it was just part of the celebration, the camaraderie of the guys after a wild challenge.

But as Ryan leaned in, his breath hot against his ear, his voice dropped to a low, rough whisper. “You may be one of us now, Adam,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver down his spine, “but you’re still gonna be my bitch from now on.”

Adam’s grin faltered for a moment, his heart skipping a beat as the meaning of Ryan’s words sank in. Before he could react, Ryan’s hand slid down his bare back, slipping lower until his fingers brushed against his still-sloppy hole. The touch was sudden, intimate, and before Adam could even think to protest, Ryan pushed one thick finger inside, pressing against his sensitive, overstimulated prostate.

The sensation hit him like a freight train. His body jolted forward, muscles tensing, and his cock, still hard and twitching, suddenly erupted. Adam’s eyes widened as he came, hands-free, his cock pulsing and shooting ropes of hot cum onto the floor beneath him. His legs trembled, barely able to keep him upright as the orgasm tore through him, pleasure crashing over him like a tidal wave.

Ryan chuckled softly into Adam’s ear, his finger still teasing his prostate, milking every last drop of cum from him. The crowd didn’t notice, too wrapped up in another challenge thrown to another new private first class, but Adam’s world narrowed down to the overwhelming sensation of Ryan’s control over his body, the undeniable pleasure, and the sharp sting of submission.

As Adam’s orgasm finally ebbed, leaving him breathless and trembling, Ryan pulled his finger out, giving his ass a possessive slap. “Good job, Private First Class Adam,” Ryan muttered, amusement lacing his voice. Then, without another word, Ryan stepped away, blending back into the group, leaving Adam standing there, dazed, his cock still dripping, his body trembling from the intensity of it all.

The other soldiers continued to cheer and party, unaware of the intimate moment that had just transpired, but he knew. He felt it deep in his bones, his new life, his new body, and now, his new place in the barracks.

He was Private First Class Adam, the cocky, easygoing guy who never backed down from a challenge. But now, as he watched Ryan disappear into the crowd, his heart still racing, he realized something else.

He may be one of them, but Ryan had claimed him all the same. And Adam wasn’t sure he minded at all.

...

Back in the store, Mister Melorius went on and grabbed the folded blue 3 pieces costume to put it up for sell, a brand new “40 yo engineer costume” was ready to be sold to someone else. ______________________________________________________________

Hey! Here is today's story. Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always let me know what you think of it and feelf ree to send inbox messages if you want to see what Mister Melorius has in store for you. See you soon!

I got some dirty motocross boots on my doorstep today with a note from Coach: "Great job on the track, here's a pair of my lucky boots." I I don't know how to feel about a used pair of boots, but Coach is always looking out for me. He knows I go through my gear quickly and these boots are a huge upgrade from my current pair. As the star motocross rider for his racing team, I'm not surprised he wants to show me some love. Some on the team joke he gives me more attention because they think he's crushing on me. That's all jealous bullshit I pay no mind to. Coach knows I don't swing that way.

I walk out to my garage to try on the boots. They're definitely a few sizes too big. Coach is a bigger guy, and I don't see how I could wear these for my next race. I slide into the boots and there's quite a bit of space in them.

"How do you like the new boots?" I look up to see Coach standing in my garage with a smile on his face.

He's never showed up at my place before. I'm more concerned how he found his way here, but feel a little inferior standing in his much bigger boots.

"I just tried them on. Thanks so much man, but they feel a little big on me."

"I expected that, but I have some more stuff for you that might help. Figured I'd drop it off personally." He pulls out a pair of bike pants covered in a layer of dirt. "These may be a bit bigger on you, but try them on. They're my special pair and I've had some great rides in them."

Maybe he's on to something I'm not seeing and this is a learning moment. I slide out of the boots and my jeans to slip on his pants. Just like boots they're hanging off me. I try to slip the boots on the boots again. Maybe the pants will fill in the boots some.

"Uhm, I don't know man. They may get caught up in the bike."

Just after I said it, I start to feel a growing surge of energy coming up through the soles of my feet. It's like static electricity tingling all around them. My feet are beginning to pulse and stretch out to fill in the boots. It feels like someone's massaging them and they're really starting to mold to the boots. My feet must now be a size 13!

The static is moving up my legs and I'm overwhelmed with pleasure. I stifle a moan as they begin to inflate my calves and quads. The pants are closing in and the cloth is now hugging me.

"Of fuckkkk" I'm feeling my ass bubble and fill out the back of the pants. My crotch has lightning running through my dick and I feel it begin to bulge and swell. I'm so fucking horny and look up to see Coach. He's got a smirk on his face and there's something really intriguing about him. I steady myself by leaning on my bike as I'm taking in all of his features. I'm seeing him through a new light and he's actually pretty fucking hot.

What would it feel like if he brushed up against me? Why am I thinking this? Oh fuck there's a jolt of lightning going through my ass. My hole is throbbing with energy and I'm breathing heavy like I'm an animal in heat. I slide the pants down to my ankles and push out my ass. Maybe he'll help a guy out.

He walks up and slides his hands down my boxers to find my hole. I find myself leaning back into his chest and let out a guttural moan as he slides his finger into me. I have pre flowing out of my dick as he begins to rub my prostate from the inside. He's got me hooked, and I'm completely under his control. He leans in and whispers into my ear "Prepare for the best ride of your life."

I can't remember what made me follow you, but I am really glad I did ! I especially love your musk related story, BO is such a turn on for me, I'm into stinky men and you describe them so well...

Thanks, bro. I love imagining guys getting sweaty and stinky, dripping musky sweat and leaving smelly sweatprints on everything they touch. Sucking on their cheesy cocks and musky toes…

Dude, when was the last time you showered? The last time it rained? It’s been weeks! And every day, you spend hours sweating in the gym and hiking in the summer heat. No wonder I can smell you the moment you come in the door, considering how much you sweat just sitting down.

Not that it’s a bad thing. Show off those hairy armpits for me, bro. Mmm, smells so tangy and good. Give yourself a good sniff. You can just feel the musky stench dissolving what remains of your brain. Take off those sweat-stained socks and let me lick those big bro feet.

Bro.

BRO!

Bro…

Huhuhu, bruh, you, like, totally came in your boxer briefs, just from sniffing your musky bod! We should, huhu, go and find some lame nerds you can dumb down and musk up with your greasy unwashed musclebod. Like the bros reading this! See that, bros? You can smell my bro’s musky feet right through the computer screen, huhuhu. Let the stench get you all musky and dumb, just like us. Then we can all get even sweatier together, bros!

If this got you horny, consider putting some spare change in my Ko-fi cup so I can write even more hot stories.

The Motorcycle learning experience

— This story was a bit rushed so srry!! Still kinda ate, let me know what u think! —

It was Christmas, and Logan found himself gifted of an intriguing gift: a full-day motorcycle riding lesson with an instructor. As an 18-year-old nerd, he initially felt apprehensive about the gift, that was given from his roommate. Motorcycles, cars, sports… none of those were interesting to him, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless and thanked his roommate before going to sleep for the night.

Months later, the appointed day arrived, and as Logan made his way to the designated location, he experienced an unusual sensation of liberation. It was a feeling he couldn't quite place, but he attributed it to the novelty of learning something outside his usual comfort zone, or because he was about to turn into the hottest biker the world had seen.

Upon arriving at the building, he was greeted by a man clad in a full Dainese leather suit and helmet, arms crossed in anticipation. Logan couldn't help but feel uncertain about the leather attire, but resigned himself to the fact that he would be wearing a suit likely worn by countless others before him—a thought that left him mildly repulsed.

Logan also never really liked bikers, each time he encountered one they were moving around traffic dangerously, almost making cars crash including himself. He wondered why his roommate had the idea to gift him that, it was totally not what he would usually enjoy and his roommate knew it.

"Yo, are you Logan?" the man inquired, removing his helmet to reveal a strikingly handsome, youthful visage reminiscent of a high school jock.

"H-hello...yes, I'm Logan," he stuttered, suddenly feeling more self-conscious in the presence of the attractive boy. Despite his heterosexual orientation, Logan found himself inexplicably drawn to the allure of the leather-clad figure, his attention inadvertently fixating on the notable bulge accentuated by the attire.

"Alright, man, let's get started! I'll teach you the basics, but I've heard you've been riding for quite some time, so I won't need to hold your hand too much," the instructor remarked, interrupting Logan's internal musings.

"Actually—" Logan began, only to be cut off.

"So, first things first, here are your, pants, and leather jacket. Did you bring your own helmet?"

"No, I didn't..." Logan admitted, feeling increasingly bewildered by the instructor's assumptions and distracted by his own conflicting emotions.

"Bro, it's in your biker backpack right there," the instructor interjected, gesturing toward a backpack resting nearby. Logan turned to see the backpack for the first time, realizing he had been oblivious to its presence amidst the flurry of confusion. Overwhelmed by the situation and the instructor's disarming charisma, Logan's thoughts began to slow as he struggled to process what was happening.

“Man, bikers can be dumb sometimes..you’re no exception, but we got a little issue. I only have one pair of boots, which are mine, I ride with them everyday and they’re very good, bro. Just take ‘em.”

Logan took the boots without even replying, his head fogged up.

*arriving in the changing rooms, the instructor was following him.*

“Alright, first, the boots, bro.” The instructor grabbed them, and all of the sudden, shoved one of them into Logan’s face; the boot had a cheesy, hot intoxicating musk that immediately made Logan pass out. The funk was unlike anything he’d ever smelled, it was very hot and humid, while being absolutely disgusting.

-2 hours later-

Logan wakes up, surprisingly finding himself in full Dainese leather that did not fit him at all, the leather suit was ridiculously large, more fitting for a man the size of the instructor, and Logan was skinny. He tried to take the jacket off, but it was stuck to him, he started to panic.

“Nah bro, don’t take it off. You’re becoming a biker boy now.”

“S-stop..get it OFF!” He was becoming mad and anxious, not knowing what was going on and panicking inside the suit.

“Alright bro, it’s coming again.” The instructor was coming with the same biker boot in his hand as earlier, and Logan knew what was coming. He again shoved the biker boot on his face, the odiferous stench inside of it making him pass out again after just a few sniffs.

As he was passed out - the instructor watched Logan’s feet grow, more and more, until they stopped at a size 13.5, with long thick toes and perfectly cut nails. The smell emitting from his new feet was simply rancid, and similar to the instructors. Cheesy, manly, and sweaty. Every time he’d remove his boots, or shoes, the strench would be able to reek up an entire area. The instructor thought it would be good for dominating.

Next, Logan’s legs shrunk a little. Not in musculature, but in height. He became 5’9 fairly quickly, which was still a proper height.

Speaking of musculature, his legs and quads exploded out, becoming full of muscles and veins. They were a sight to see, and his thighs able to crush watermelons easily.

The instructor needed to keep Logan passed out, and this time he chose his feet. He took his big fat muscular biker feet, wrapped in white Nike socks that were more yellowish now, and shoved them into Logan’s nose again, keeping him « asleep ».

After his legs, came the awaited moment of his butt. It was currently hidden beneath the leather, so flat that it couldn’t be seen at all. Suddenly, the once flat buns were becoming stronger, and bigger. They were becoming large, fat and full of muscles. Not necessarily massive, but round with fat and muscles. The two orbs now started to bulge out of the leather pants attractively.

As the transformation continued, Logan would now have another way to dominate and be worshipped due to; frequent & fetid gas. His digestive system changed, matching one that would be made to emit farts very frequently, and even more due to Logan’s new diet, burgers, tacos, and overall greasy foods made his gas smell like rotten eggs & sulfur. The strench would also get caught up in the leather gear and make his entire body stink whenever he was wearing leather pants.

Logan couldn’t feel it, but his penis was now undergoing some changes. The precious 3 inches had been growing at the same time as his orbs in the back, now stopping at an over average but still reasonable 6 inches, but a smaller 3 inches soft, with balls that would be able to produce lots of alpha cum.

The once unassuming upper physique of the 18-year-old nerd underwent a discernible metamorphosis – his abs, once absolutely inexistant ,emerged with striking definition, now a defined sweaty 6pack that would turn heads whenever he was shirtless.

His chest, once modest in appearance, underwent a notable change. It expanded and firmed up, revealing well-defined pecs that seemed almost pillowy in their muscular fullness.The leather jacket sleeves strained against the growing bulk of his arms, which were also changing, combining sinewy strength with a compelling visual presence.

The aroma of genuine leather lingered around him, but other than that atmosphere, a unique fragrance emanated from Logan's body. His armpits, once understated, now emitted a confident, sweaty alpha scent – a true proof of him being an alpha, made to dominate and be worshipped.

As Logans transformation would soon end, his facial features underwent very much needed changes. he once unassuming face of the 18-year-old nerd evolved into something strikingly different. His jawline sharpened, cheekbones gained prominence, and his eyes took on a newfound intensity.

Simultaneously, subtle changes extended to his overall attractiveness. His skin acquired a healthy glow, and any lines that hinted at youth's passing subtly softened, adding an undeniable allure to his appearance.

Then, Logan woke up. Mixed thoughts were in his head, both wanting to escape and other ones where he thought he’d always been a biker boy, dominant and alpha.

“Right. MAX. What’s your name?” The instructor asked.

“I’m..Logan…” Logan, or should I say max, answered.

“No, your name has always been max, you’ve always been a dominant biker boy, 19 years old, bisexual, horny, gross, primal and eager to fuck.” The instructor said, hypnotising Max permanently and overwriting his previous memories.

“Yeah bro, I’m max. Wanna smell my fucking feet ?”

The transformation was complete. Max drove home on his motorcycle, smelling ripe with sweat and very hungry for a hole to fill. It was his new life. Max just wanted to dominate, fuck, spread his funk, and ride.

Miami Heat

When I told my fam I was goin' to Miami for college, they all said I'd regret it. And yeah, I guess it took some gettin' used to at first.

I remember showin' up to move-in day in jeans, sweatin' my ass off, totally soakin' through my shirt, haha. But my roomie came in clutch. He's been in Florida for, like, his whole life, so he gave me some of his stuff to borrow: tank tops, shorts, slides, Miami gear.

I was walkin' around campus cooler than ever. But damn, bro, that heat is something else. I'd come back to the dorm and be too tired to think, hahaha. My roomie and me just chilled out a lot, talked sports, that kinda stuff. Even started hitting the gym together - his idea. And lemme tell you, the AC in there? Fuckin' heavenly, dude.

Now, between all the workouts and the heat, I'm always sweatin'. Honestly...I kinda like it. Like, I smell good. Sorta...musky? I dunno, but I just stopped wearin' deodorant altogether. 'Cause if I'm gonna get drenched anyway, why bother, y'know? And doesn't sweat, like, keep you cool or somethin'? Yeah, so it all works out...

I gotta few minutes before class, right? Think I'm gonna go send my roomie a progress pic:

You Have No Choice

I laughed in Jake’s face as he told me I should consider joining the football team. No way was that going to happen. I prefer studying and using my free time to play video games. Every single one of those guys believed in hard work and being social. That just wasn’t how I was built nor what I wanted. “Benjamin, this isn’t a request,” he said to me. The audacity of him trying to bully me into joining was laughable as I turned to leave. Jake’s strong hand grabbed my shoulder, as I turned back to him a rag went over my face. The lockers around me began to fade as I inhaled the sweet aroma. The last thing I remember was him smiling before the hall went dark. 

The pungent aroma of smelling salts awoke me later. It made my lungs burn, I coughed and groaned trying to stand up. I grunted feeling my hands bound tight. “Jake,” I spat. “Let me go I swear to god.” Jake gave me a wicked smile and sat on my chest. He called his team in, one by one they filtered in from every angle. Ice ran through my veins as fear spread throughout my limbs. I wracked my brain watching them file in, trying to figure out if I’d wronged them. My attention was drawn away as a shimmering object swung back and forth. It took a moment to focus on it before I could tell it was Jake swinging the coaches whistle like a pendulum. 

“Benjamin Arthur Wild, you’re feeling sleepy and relaxed.” His voice was monotone, and all I did was laugh. Jake thought they could hypnotize me; what a crock. His teammates forced me to watch it, one held my head still while another forced my eyes to remain open. As I watched it swing back and forth my muscles relaxed and I felt groggy as my body became heavier. The lights in the locker room were getting brighter, blinding me. The last thing I remembered was having nonsense whispered in my ear before losing consciousness. 

Jake watched Benjamin go limp on the bench. “Bring it. He’s ready.” Jake began to whisper plays in Benjamin’s ear using his words to plant a seed deep into his subconscious. “Benjamin, when I snap my fingers you will wake up, but with I give you the commands you will do as you’re told.” He waited until he heard Benjamin murmur an affirmative before snapping his fingers.

Something woke me from a pleasant slumber, my eyes slowly focused staring at the bright lights in the ceiling. Two linebackers started to untie my restraints as Jake watched. “Feeling better?” He asked, as the two linebackers helped me up to a sitting position. I felt out of place and all I could do was just nod while I rubbed my wrists from the restraints. 

“I’m going to go,” I said with a shaky voice, but he said stay, and I felt compelled to stay suddenly. 

“You know Benjamin, your arms are looking a little weak. You should pack on some muscle.” My head lifted when he said muscle. I immediately grabbed the dumbbells sitting right next to the bench doing bicep curls. My muscles ached as I pushed them past their limits. I saw that the weights I was lifting, they weighed far more than I should’ve been capable of handling. Fifty pounds was a lot, Jake realized I was struggling because he asked for someone to bring out the protein powder. 

I saw them mix it up. The chalky mixture was disgusting. I didn’t want to even let it near my mouth, but Jake convinced me by just saying the word drink. No questions asked, I grabbed it and downed it. It was gritty, and my face showed my disgust, but I finished every last drop. The guys smiled seeing I couldn’t resist. I begged for another and downed that one too. There was no stopping myself and it scared me. He commented on my muscles again and I returned to lifting. It felt easier this time. My mind was racing as I tried to figure out what was going on and then it hit me. He had done it, he’d hypnotized me. He was using trigger words to get me to do things I wouldn’t normally do. 

I had to stop them. Who knows what else they could do to me. I heard another command telling me to stop. I looked up at Jake seeing a devious grin on his face. “Let me show you why you should join,” he stepped out of my way, allowing me to see myself in the mirror. The meek thin boy I once was gone. My body now filled with lean muscle, my arms defined, and a sculpted chest. I wanted to scream at them, but he gave me another command, harder. I didn’t understand what that meant, but my cock stirred inside my underwear. He said it again, harder. It was starting to hurt as my member pushed against my tight jeans begging to be freed. A couple guys decided to help as they pulled my pants down, my cock flopping out as stiff as a flagpole. Jake squatted down. “Final chance Benjamin. Join now and I’ll let you keep your mind. Fight me and you’ll be overruled.” 

I never thought he would do something like that to me, I had to fight back. I had this new stronger body and I felt like I could use it to break free. I told him to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine and he just smiled. “I understand.” He reached out grabbing my cock stroking it. The guys behind me held me down, keeping me from stopping him. I felt the pressure building. I wasn’t sure where this was going, but the look he gave me told me I made the wrong choice. “Don’t worry. You’ll be happy when we’re done Ben.” My eyes went blank and my mind began to dump everything about me, my personality, my quirks, my favorite things. He turned the shorter version of my name into a trigger and it was wiping me clean.

I felt my personality, my likes, my hopes and dreams drained and deposited into the bank that was my balls. He turned the real me into spunk; spunk that he planned to blow from this built body. His hand quickened speed. My body tried to hold onto the last of what is me before giving in. I gasped as “me” blew across the room splattering across the floor. 

Jake looked at the shell of a man. He left the important stuff. All the memories, and lessons Ben would’ve learned in life, but he would rebuild Ben as a brilliant football player. He wouldn’t want to play video games and didn’t mind doing hard work. Ben would be more submissive in the locker room, but a powerhouse out on the field. He started to feed these ideas to the blank slate watching as a new personality overtook Ben until he built him back up. Ben looked up at him with a fierce stare before he returned the same cocky grin. “Bro. I’m ready to get out there and practice. You got my jersey?” Jake smiled as he handed him number 97. The guys left the locker room. Ben stepped in the spunk on the floor not aware that had been him as he headed out with his team to go practice.